The Road Home Page 20

  “No, look, I’m okay. I…I’ve been stressed. That’s all.” Lila forces herself to smile. “I promise.”

  Carol chuckles as she peers from behind her glasses. “You are a horrible liar.” And she’s right. Lila has never been able to tell a convincing lie. It’s a great trait to have when she wants to earn trust, but every now and then, she wishes she could at least fib without being caught.

  “I could die,” Carol says, breaking the small amount of silence. “This fucking disease might win.” She shakes her head slowly. “I need you to promise me you’ll tell the volleyball girls I love each and every one of them. Okay?”

  “Oh, Carol,” Lila whispers as tears start to fall again. “Stop. I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “You think there’s a good time to have this conversation?”

  “No, probably not.”

  Carol sighs deeply. “You need to promise me you won’t stop teaching. You’re amazing.”

  “Stop.”

  The smile spreading across Carol’s lips causes Lila’s heart to clench. This woman cannot die. She simply can’t. Lila has no idea what she will do without her. Yeah, sure, she still has her parents, but she never sees them, never talks to them. It’s weird. She knows it is. But Carol and David became the parents she needed, and the reality of losing half of the family unit she’s grown to care so much about is crashing down on her. The weight is as suffocating as Vale Park sometimes seems. She hopes to God she finds a way to handle all of this because learning how to breathe again after having someone taken from her is not something she is eager to tackle.

  “You’re going to get better, right?”

  Carol’s eyelids slide open, and she picks her head up “I am going to try.” She places her cold, cold hand on Lila’s cheek. “I promise.”

  And the word promise sounds as weak as Carol looks. Lila has no idea if God is real, but if there is a higher power, she prays for strength, for Carol, for her, for Gwen. And for the word promise.

  * * *

  “No, Samantha, I’m not doing anything stupid.”

  “Oh, really? You don’t think it’s stupid to fall into bed with this girl?” Samantha’s voice is laced with irritation as she rolls her eyes on the FaceTime call. “You do not need the drama or the heartache.”

  “I love how you assume heartache is what I’ll get. You realize I can actually be in a relationship, right? It’s something I’ve chosen to not worry about.”

  “Until now.”

  “Yes, until now.”

  “I think you’re being ridiculous.”

  Gwendolyn laughs. “I am not surprised by your candor. At all.”

  “Well, crap, I’m predictable.” Samantha shrugs. “Now what?”

  “I have no idea, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Gwendolyn sips her iced vanilla latte. She’s tucked away in a corner in the bustling Blackbird Café, hoping to find a little solace from the thoughts of her father’s indiscretions. It’s not helping. At all. Because every single college student who enters the café makes her think of the girl her father was fondling in broad daylight in the middle of the sidewalk on one of the busiest roads in Vale Park. The last three who entered had blond hair, so it’s not them. She’s looking for a redhead. A young, impressionable redhead who has no idea that the man she’s fucking has a wife who is dying from cancer.

  “What else is going on? You seem super on edge for someone who’s having sex on the reg.”

  “We’ve had sex twice. Calm down.”

  “Whoa, sorry.” Samantha laughs. “Again, I say, you’re on edge. What’s up?”

  “Oh, Sam…” Gwendolyn sighs. “I saw my dad making out with a girl who had to have been half his age.”

  “Holy shit, Gwen, are you serious? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “Yeah, I guess I’m okay.” She looks up when another gaggle of girls comes into the shop. Brunettes. “I think it must be a college student, but I don’t know. I chickened out trying to talk to him the other night.”

  “My God.” Samantha shakes her head. “What the hell are you going to say to him?”

  “I have no fucking idea. Ask him why he thinks now is a good time too fuck around on Mom? Ask him how long he’s been doing it? Ask him if Mom knows?” She pops a piece of the muffin that the counter girl talked her into buying into her mouth. As she chews, she says, “I am so mad at him.”

  “I can only imagine. My dad never cheated on my mom. He left her instead. I’d like to say I don’t know which is worse, but I feel like it’s cheating.”

  “Was your mom trying to survive cancer?”

  “Um, no.” Her shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. Do you want me to come back? I will.”

  “Oh, Sam, no, but thank you for asking. I’ll figure it out.” Gwendolyn stops chewing and swallows. “Oh my God. They’re here.”

  Samantha gasps. “Shut up. Seriously? What are you going to do? Gwen, don’t do anything stupid. You hear me?”

  Gwendolyn heard her, but she doesn’t acknowledge before she says, “I gotta go,” and disconnects. She pulls her earbuds out and yanks the cord from the end of her phone. She stuffs both into her bag as she observes her father and the redhead. She’s pretty sure it’s the same girl. Fuck, it better be the same girl. If she finds out he’s diddling more than one girl on the side, she’s going to cut his penis off.

  He laughs and slips his arm around her waist. Gwendolyn’s stomach starts to churn; muffin and vanilla latte coming back up is not going to be good. The only table they can sit at is near the front of the café . The decision to stay and confront them is a stupid one, but she’s made it before she can try to talk herself down. When he takes two cups of coffee and turns to the open table, the redhead slips her hand to the back of his pants where she holds on to his belt. The intimate touch screams familiarity, and Gwendolyn’s immediate thought is, this is not a new relationship.

  She waits a few seconds before she springs into action. She wants to make sure she catches him in the act, even though everything she’s observed is enough to make anyone believe. At least, that’s the thought. When she sees him lean over and kiss her on the lips, it’s time. She stands, almost knocking over the small table, and maneuvers through the crowd. When she gets to their table, she pulls out a chair and plops down. She’s not sure if it brings her joy or hatred to see the look on her father’s face, his eyes as big as saucers.

  “Gwendolyn.” His voice is much calmer than his expression.

  “Hi there, Dad. How are you?” She crosses her arms and leans on the tabletop. “Not at class? I thought you had class right now, which is why you can never help with Mom’s chemo.” Oh, good one, Gwen.

  “We are not doing this right now.” He goes to stand, and she holds her hand up.

  “I swear to God, if you stand up, I will cause the biggest fucking scene.”

  He must believe her because he settles back in his chair. His eyes move from hers to the redhead’s, and Gwendolyn wants so badly to punch the woman. She hasn’t moved, and the look of pure terror on her face is almost enough to make Gwendolyn feel better about this entire display.

  “So,” Gwendolyn says, folding her arms again. She looks at the redhead. “He’s married. And his wife is going through intense chemo. Did you know that?”

  She nods.

  “Oh my God.” Gwendolyn looks at her father. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Gwendolyn. I can explain.”

  “Can you?” She’s getting ready to cry. The tears are welling. She never in a million years thought she’d be so wrecked by something like this. Up until two months ago, she’d written her mom off, so why would it upset her that her father has done so as well?

  “Yes.” He nods. “I think maybe we should speak about it somewhere else.”

  “No,” she says as she stands. “I don’t want to speak with you at all. I am telling Mom.”

  “No.” He stands and puts a hand on her arm. “You cannot tell her. You know what
this will do to her. She’s too weak.”

  Gwendolyn’s jaw drops. “Are you fucking kidding me? You have some nerve, telling me how weak she is while you’re fucking this cunt?”

  The redhead gasps. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, you heard me, you poor excuse for a human being with a bottle-dye job.” Gwendolyn rips her arm away from her father and points at him. “You are no longer my favorite. I hope you know that.” And she walks away as fast as she can.

  It’s not until she’s safely tucked inside the car that she lets herself break down. She cries so hard she can barely catch her breath. But the tears aren’t from what she expected. Not heartache or sadness. They’re from the immense amount of relief. Because she finally confronted him. She stood her ground. And she is impressed with her ability to spit out the word “cunt” when appropriate.

  The hard part now is telling her mom. She doesn’t want to. Unfortunately, her father is right: she’s too weak. But what is she supposed to do? Hold the information in until her mom gets better? When she starts the engine, the reality of the situation slams into her. She cannot ruin her mother with something as big as this. Not now. She’s going to have to hold it in. At least for the time being.

  But if he steps out of line…that’s it. She’s going to let the bad news fly. If for no other reason than to expose what a fraud her father is.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lila gasps. She leans forward on Gwendolyn’s childhood bedroom floor—and hers as well—and says, “You did what?”

  “I confronted him. I saw him at the Blackbird with that girl.” She is lying on her back, looking at the ceiling, which still holds a poster of NSYNC. Her smile is striking, even though the content is uncomfortable, and there is an all too familiar tug inside Lila’s chest. “I swear, it was a total adrenaline rush.”

  “What the hell, Gwen? Do you really think that was a good idea?”

  “Um, yes, it was a very good idea.” She turns on her side and props her head up with her hand. “You don’t?”

  Lila sighs. Her heart rate has increased significantly since the conversation took this turn. She is going to have to break a promise and tell the truth if this keeps up. “I mean, I guess? It seems a little reckless.”

  “Well, I’ve never been someone who plays it safe, so it kind of makes sense, right? And besides…” She rolls back onto her back. “He needs to know that I know what he’s doing. And it’s fucking not okay. I cannot stand liars.” The way she digs her index finger into the carpet when she says liars causes Lila’s throat to clench. “He shouldn’t be doing this to Mom.”

  Is it really lying, though, the not telling? Is it lying by omission? Which technically is still a lie. And Lila has to agree. Liars do suck. Then why, oh why, has she been doing it so much lately? Lies make no sense, and she’s been horrible at them her entire life. She can’t keep eye contact, she bites her lip, and she fidgets. She almost always gets called out on her bullshit.

  The issue is her constant need to not disappoint the people who have taken the time to get to know her, to love her back. Growing up, she never let herself get close enough to anyone because being close meant being able to disappoint them. Then her parents left, she stayed behind, and slowly but surely, her walls started to come down, and when she found out how wonderful being close to people felt, she decided to stop pushing people away. She let Carol be her mother when her actual mom was half a world away. She let David be her father because her real dad was too busy being good at his job rather than being a father. She stopped lying. She stopped trying to be the perfectly imperfect asshole and started caring about people. About the Carters.

  And now she’s falling in love with their daughter and here she is, trying to lie to her. And for what reason? Because the idea of Gwendolyn’s face holding the sure signs of disappointment—the sad eyes, the downturned mouth, the flared nostrils—is causing Lila’s skin to crawl. She cannot even fathom breaking Gwendolyn’s heart. Why, then? Why is she having the hardest time telling Gwendolyn the truth? Why can’t she open her mouth and spit it out? Carol knows, Gwendolyn. She knows. And Carol doesn’t have the fucking energy to deal with it. She has let him do himself for years. And the first time Lila saw him cheat, she felt the exact same way as Gwendolyn does now, except Lila didn’t have the courage to make him feel like a piece of shit. She hid behind it for months until she finally broke down, sobbing over her homework, and Carol made her spill. And spill she did.

  “I need to tell Mom. Don’t you think?”

  This is the moment when I should tell her. Right here. Gwendolyn spilling her guts to Carol would solve everything because Carol would be able to say she knows, and everything would be fine.

  But what if Carol says that Lila knows? Has known? Has always known? And Gwendolyn knew nothing…yet continued to love her father as the saint she thought he was. The truth sits like ice cubes inside her mouth, in her throat and lungs, freezing and unmovable.

  The truth means this is the moment she disappoints Gwendolyn, who will not take the truth well at all. Lila wouldn’t take it well if the roles were reversed. “Is it something you can keep bottled up?” She feels the words come out of her like a cold winter wind.

  Gwendolyn lets out a laugh. “Ha. Probably not.” She sighs and finishes her thought with, “I should. Shouldn’t I?” She turns again to her side before settling on her stomach, resting her chin on her folded arms. Her legs are bent, feet in the air and crossed at the ankles. She’s adorable, so Lila closes her eyes and pulls in a breath. “I want you to be honest with me.”

  For someone who turned such an amazing corner, who turned her life around from going nowhere fast to excited and engaged, Lila has sure backtracked when it pertains to the idea of not being perfect for Gwendolyn. She is starting to hate herself for being this way. But she loves how Gwendolyn perceives her, and she loves how that perception rules her thoughts, her heart, her soul. The idea of upsetting Gwendolyn and this insanely wonderful and weird camaraderie is too much for her heart to handle when they’ve come so far. “I think you should see if you can keep this inside. For now.”

  “Really?” She doesn’t seem shocked. “I figured you’d be the one person telling me to tell her.”

  She pulls a deep breath in through her nose and holds it for a couple beats. When she releases it, she adds, “Maybe she already knows.”

  Gwendolyn’s eyebrows raise practically to her hairline. “I highly doubt that. Mom? Not leaving him instantly? No way.”

  She tried. She did. Lila thinks she should keep pushing. Tell her. Tell her the mother fucking truth, you coward. “May I say something? And you promise to not get mad?”

  Gwendolyn laughs. “I don’t like how that sounds, but yes, you may.”

  “You spent so many years hating your mom. Why do you all of a sudden feel this urge to—”

  “Break her?”

  Lila’s breath almost catches at the accuracy that statement could have. Carol has already dealt with the heartbreak, though. “Or upset her?”

  “I don’t want to do either of those things.” She rolls her head to the side and sighs. “I hate having this knowledge.”

  An uneasy silence falls around them after Lila focuses on the ticking of the Garfield clock next to her bed. Their bed. God. There is a moment—it’s a small moment, but it exists—where the thought pops into Lila’s mind: maybe this isn’t what they should be doing? None of this was supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to be watching fireflies together at dusk, holding hands, making out in dark corners, fucking until all hours of the nights, finding solace in each other’s arms, all while dealing with a dying mom. They were raised by the same people, under the same roof, ten years apart. They both have too much to lose if this goes south. And if Gwendolyn finds out she’s been lied to, it’s going to go that direction a hell of a lot faster than Lila can anticipate. Then they stand to not only lose each other, but…Oh God.

  Lila’s stomach starts to twist, turn, tie itself
in knots as the reality slams into her.

  They could also lose Carol, too. Their mom.

  She clears the emotion rising like bile in her throat and goes to stand up. “I think I’m going to head home. I’m super tired.”

  “You know you can stay the night, right?”

  “Yeah, right.” She laughs. It’s the fakest laugh she has ever made, and Gwendolyn is questioning it by the look on her face.

  “What’s going on?” Gwendolyn repositions herself on the floor, legs folded in front of her, and tilts her head. “You’ve been very strange.”

  She thinks, if she forces another laugh, she might get away with it this time, but she decides to not push her luck. “I’m tired. It’s been a long week.”

  “It’s Monday.”

  “I mean since the tournament. Y’know, all the things.”

  Gwendolyn’s eyes narrow. Her brow is furrowed. “Lila…what aren’t you telling me?”

  “I gotta go.” She rushes to the door as nonchalantly as possible. “I’ll text you.” She almost escapes unscathed when all of a sudden, Gwendolyn pulls her back.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Her eyes are so dark right then, almost green in the dim bedroom light. She places her hands on Lila’s face and runs the smooth pad of her thumb over Lila’s cheekbone. “If you need to talk, you can talk to me. Okay?” Her tone is so wonderful, her touch so perfect. Lila finds herself melting before she can snap out of it.

  She understands why the idea of hurting Gwendolyn is causing her so much anxiety and discomfort. She knew it before. But standing there now with Gwendolyn’s skin on hers, her eyes such a fascinating color of care and passion, she cannot argue the fact at all. “I’m falling in love with you, Gwendolyn. And this…all of this…” She stops as a sob creeps out. She slaps her free hand over her mouth as tears slide down her cheeks. This is not the direction she saw any of this going. “I need, like, maybe a second of space. Okay? Like, a second. Or ten.” She puts her hand on the doorknob, and Gwendolyn pulls her again.

  “Wait a second. You’re going to tell me you’re in love with me and then leave? Are you serious?”