Along for the Ride(73)

‘Lacey McIntyre?’

‘Eighth grade. Spent months working up to asking her to a dance, and she shot me down cold. In full view of the entire lunchroom.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Tell me about it.’ He turned again, going down a narrow street with only a few houses on it. Thwack. Thwack. ‘Winning over Belissa’s dad, who still hates me. Convincing my little brother not to be such a chump. Learning to fix my own car.’

‘Wow. This is a long list.’

‘I told you. I’m very good at being bad at things.’

I glanced over at him again as we came to another stop sign. ‘So you never get discouraged.’

‘Of course I do,’ he said. ‘Failing sucks. But it’s better than the alternative.’

‘Which is?’

‘Not even trying.’ Now he did look at me, straight on. ‘Life’s short, you know?’

I’d never met Abe. Or even heard much about him, aside from the few things Maggie and Leah had said. But suddenly, in that moment, it was like I could feel him. Sitting in the very seat where I was, riding along with us. Maybe he’d been there the whole time.

Eli took another turn, and I realized we were in my dad’s neighborhood, the surroundings suddenly familiar. His house was quickly approaching, and on my side to boot. It had to be a sign. I reached over, picking up a paper from the stack between us. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘This one’s mine.’

I drew back my hand, trying to use my elbow for leverage the way I’d seen him do, and this time aimed not for the driveway but the porch. It came closer, closer, and at the exact right minute, I let it fly, watching as it arced high over the lawn… before landing with a slap on the windshield of Heidi’s Prius.

Eli slowed to a stop. ‘I know it’s family,’ he said, ‘but that demands a do-over.’

I slid out of the car – again – and walked over to grab the paper, tucking it under my arm. Then I crept up as slowly as possible to the porch, trying to be quiet as I bent to slide it onto the perfect center of the mat. Just as I did, though, I heard my dad’s voice.

‘… just my point! I wanted you to have what you wanted. But what about what I want?’

I shrank from the door, backing down one step as I glanced at my watch. It was almost three A.M. Entirely too late for most people to be up, unless something bad was happening.

‘Are you saying you don’t want the baby?’ Heidi said. Her voice was higher, shaky. ‘Because if that’s true…’

‘This isn’t about the baby.’

‘Then what is it about?’

‘Our lives,’ he replied, sounding tired. ‘And how they’ve changed.’

‘You’ve done this before, Robert. Twice. You knew what it was like to have an infant in the house.’

‘I was a child myself then!

I’m older now. It’s different. It’s…’

Silence. All I could hear was Eli’s car, the engine murmuring behind me.

‘… not what I expected,’ my dad finished. ‘You want the truth, there it is. I wasn’t ready for all this.’

All this. Such a round, all-encompassing term, as wide as the ocean, which I could also hear, distantly – the real waves this time. But even with all that vastness, it was impossible to tell what, or who, it really included. It seemed safest to just assume everything.

‘This,’ Heidi said, ‘is your family. Ready or not, Robert.’

I had a flash of all those cul-de-sac games I never really played, but knew the rules to nonetheless. You hide: whoever is It counts down, and then – ready or not! – they came looking for you. If they got close, you had no choice but to stay put, hoping not to be found. But if you were, there was no wiggle room. Game over.

I could hear my father starting to say something, but I wasn’t a child this time, and didn’t have to stay and listen. I could leave, disappear into the night, which was vast, too, wide and all-encompassing, with so many places to hide. So I did.

‘Forgive the mess,’ Eli said, reaching inside the dark room for a light switch. ‘Housework is another one of my failings.’

In truth, his apartment was simply plain. One large room, with a bed on one side, a single wooden chair and TV on the other. The kitchen was tiny, the counters bare except for a coffeemaker, a box of filters beside it. Still, I appreciated his efforts to pretend otherwise, if only because it meant we weren’t talking about the fact that I’d pretty much lost it only moments earlier.

I thought I’d been fine as I backed away from my dad’s house, walking across the already dew-damp grass to the truck. Fine as I slid in, picking up another paper to throw. But then, Eli had said, ‘Hey. You okay?’ and the next thing I knew, I wasn’t.

It’s always embarrassing to cry in front of anyone. But bursting into tears in front of Eli was downright humiliating. Maybe it was the way he just sat there, not saying anything, the only sound my hiccuping sobs and loud sniffles. Or how, after a moment, he just drove on, throwing papers at houses while I looked out the window and tried to stop. By the time he’d pulled into the dark driveway of a green split-level house a block from the boardwalk, I’d gotten calmed down enough to be racking my brain for some way to play the whole thing off. I was thinking I’d blame sudden-onset PMS, or maybe my devastation at sucking so entirely at paper delivering. Before I could say anything, though, he cut the engine, pushing his door open.