Sweet Nothing(52)

“You’ve barely said anything in the last hour,” she said.

“Sorry. I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

I sighed loudly, rolling my neck from side to side, needing to stretch my stiff muscles. “A lot of stuff, baby. Do you mind getting us snacks?”

She thought for a moment before she smiled and shook her head, causing her messy bun to bob back and forth.

I handed her a twenty from my wallet. “Could you grab me a vanilla Frappuccino while you’re at it?”

Avery took the bill from my fingers and pushed open her door. She walked across the lot, giving me a reprieve from her line of questioning. A couple of guys noticed her tiny skirt that was barely visible beneath my Adidas hoodie, and I bristled.

I got out of the car and began pumping gas while watching Avery through the large glass window of the gas station. She hated road trips, but she was excited to drive down with me to meet my family. I struggled to create a better memory for her, knowing what waited for us in Richmond Hill. I was dreading having to see my mother again. Last time I had been home, she was falling down and incoherent for the majority of my visit. But, if enduring her for a few days would make Avery happy, then I would gladly suffer through her presence.

While I waited for my tank to fill, I pulled out my cell phone and called my mom. After several rings, she answered, uncertainty in her tone.

“Hello?”

I squinted one eye, already regretting the call.

“Hello?” she said again.

“I’m coming home for the weekend,” I blurted out.

“Josh? This weekend? You could have let me know a few days ago. The house is a mess.” I rolled my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. My mother hadn’t cleaned her own home in years. She paid someone to come do it every few weeks.

“I’m not worried about the house. I’m bringing a friend.” I glanced up at the window to see Avery standing at the cash register, waiting to pay. “Is that going to be a problem?”

She was silent for a moment before responding.

“Of course not. Your friends are always welcome here.”

I mumbled a good-bye before disconnecting the call.

Avery returned, smiling brightly with her hands loaded with candy. “I thought you said it would be warm when we hit South Carolina?”

“I said it would be warmer. I told you not to wear a dress.”

She narrowed her eyes as she handed me my drink and made her way to her side of the car, slipping inside.

I hung the gas nozzle back on the pump and pressed the heels of my hands against the top of the car. I needed a second to get my head right before climbing into the car next to the girl I was trying to marry.

“I just wanted to look good for your parents.”

Rubbing my palm against my stubbled jaw, I spoke without looking at her. “I know, baby. I’m just … a little stressed.”

“If you don’t want me to meet your parents—”

“It’s not that, Avery. It’s my mom. She’s going to make this weekend hell.”

“I can handle one weekend.” She touched my leg. “Nothing she can do will ever change the way I feel about you. You know that, right?”

I recoiled from Avery’s sympathetic frown. Her feeling sorry for me was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want her settling for the pathetic paramedic with a sad story instead of choosing Italian leather and a house in Alapocas. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, that fantasy sparkled in her eyes every time she looked at Doc Rose.

“Josh,” she prompted.

“I may have … downplayed Mom’s drinking problem. Last time I saw her, she could barely function.”

“Oh …” She fell silent.

“It’s okay, Avery. You didn’t know. I didn’t tell you how bad it was. I haven’t told anyone,” I said, sighing.

“Josh—”

“It’s not a big deal, Avery. I should have told you. It’s just a tough topic.”

“But it is … a big deal,” she said. “If you want to talk more about it, you can trust me.” She blinked her big green eyes, hopeful.

From the beginning, my past had been off limits. To Avery, talking things out made everything better. “Trust has nothing to do with it. I just don’t want to keep reliving it.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but saw me readjusting my grip on the steering wheel. I started the car and headed to the on-ramp of I-95.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

“I know you want to help, baby, but there isn’t much to say.”

“You’re stressed. I just thought that maybe talking about your mom would make you less worried about seeing her.”

Stepping on the gas, I hurried to get up to speed with the other drivers. I drifted in and out of the passing lane as my memory was assaulted by visions of my childhood.

“She never recovered from losing Kayla. Their marriage suffered because of it. Nothing was the same after that. It was bad, and then it got worse. A lot worse. She turned to vodka, and he turned to other women.”

Avery’s fingers pressed into my leg. “That’s awful.”

I tossed those words around in my mind. Awful. Was it? She had checked out of our lives years ago. Not only had she withdrawn from me when we lost Kayla, but she had completely ignored my father. He was hurting too, and she had forced him to grieve alone. I didn’t blame him for seeking companionship from other women. He had suffered as much as she had, but he had been forgotten.