The Way to Game the Walk of Shame(67)

“I want you to understand how glad I was that Brandon came into our lives. He’s not perfect, but life with him is. He’s reliable, and he takes care of us. And he puts me first. He makes my life easy. And the only way I can repay him is to make him happy. Even if that means cutting your dad out of our lives.” Mom smoothed the wrinkles in her pants before standing up and pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. “But that wasn’t my decision to make. It should have been yours. So here.”

The yellow sheet was barely three inches wide and had a long, ragged tear on one side. Some numbers were scribbled on it, squished together. A bank account? “What’s this?”

“That’s your dad’s phone number.”

Bam! And just like that, I slumped down on the arm of the seat across from her. It slid back a few inches on the hardwood floor. I clenched the paper so hard, it crumpled in my hand. “I thought you didn’t want me to contact him.”

“I didn’t. I still don’t.” Mom crossed her arms and looked away. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I just don’t want you to hate me for it later on. And you’re right. It’s your choice whether you want to see him or not.”

Her sad tone nearly killed me. Judging by the circles under her eyes, this had been bothering her for a while. And the slight indention in the couch cushion that refused to go away showed that she had been waiting for me for a pretty long time.

I was a shitty example of a son. The worst ever.

“Mom.” I stood up when she headed toward the kitchen. She stopped, and her shoulders stiffened. I swallowed and shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “If you never gave me his number, I wouldn’t blame you. Yeah, I was a little pissed for a while, but I wouldn’t hate you. I can’t.”

Mom finally turned around. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but I wasn’t too worried. She cried over everything. Once she cried because the neighbor’s dog died. And she hated that thing, said it barked at her every time she came home. That didn’t stop her from crying for an hour when it got run over, though.

Besides, the broad smile on her face as she walked toward me was a big indication that everything was better now.

She had to tiptoe to kiss my cheek, something she hadn’t done in years. I hadn’t noticed how small she was now. Or how much taller than her I was. “Just go do what you have to do. I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready.”

I nodded. Now that the crisis was averted, I barely even noticed when she left the room. My eyes were glued to the numbers in my hand. Ten digits. Something small and simple that kindergarteners were learning. Yet now it seemed like the most important thing in the world to me.

My footsteps thundered up the stairs as I raced to my room. I dropped my bag and paced. Back and forth. Should I call now? Maybe I should wait. Florida was in the same time zone as North Carolina (or at least close enough), so he was probably getting ready to eat dinner, too. Now might not be the most convenient time to call.

But when was a good time to call and say, “Hey, Dad. Remember me? Your son that you haven’t talked to in years? It wasn’t either of our choices, though. So what’s up?”

What was I going to say to him?

As I stared at the little piece of paper, I could hear Taylor’s voice in my head. And not in a very good way. Okay, she was yelling at me to stop being a wuss and just dial the damn number. And she was right.

Still, my hands shook as I punched in the numbers. I could feel myself getting sick from the clenching and twisting of my stomach. That feeling grew with each ring.

“Hello?”

There it was. The voice I hadn’t heard in over four years.

And just like that, my nervousness disappeared. Like nothing had ever happened. I was eleven again, waiting for him to come home from work so we could go to the aquarium.

“Hi, Dad.”





25

-Evan-

As I drove to Taylor’s house, I replayed my conversation with Dad over and over in my head. And his offer to move in with him after graduation. He had a spare bedroom at his rental, and Troy University was nearby. It even had a good marine-biology program, one that I actually got into because of Taylor. To be honest, I had just filled out the paperwork to get her off my back. I didn’t really expect to get in. But now … now everything was falling into place. It was perfect.

Even though I was dying to get away from Brandon, I still didn’t know how I could be away from Mom. She didn’t want me to go, but I had to do this for her. She wouldn’t have to be between Brandon and me anymore. She could finally be happy.

While Mom updated Brandon on the situation—I’ll bet he was breaking out the good wine to celebrate—I raced over to Taylor’s house. I wanted to tell her about Dad. I wanted to tell her about the university acceptance. I needed to tell her everything.

In my excitement, I didn’t remember about Mr. Simmons until I had already rung the doorbell. Shit. I wondered if there was still enough time to hide.

The door opened just as I was about to dive behind the rosebushes. Thank god Taylor was the one who opened it. “Evan? What are you doing here?”

She looked beautiful. I had to physically stop myself from hugging her. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Is the coast clear?”

“Uh, yeah, Dad’s out with some friends. And Mom’s on the phone with my grandma in the kitchen.” She looked around for a few seconds before stepping back. “Do you want to come in?”