CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

HARPER POLSEN

I don’t have as bad a hangover the next morning as I used to get sometimes when I went out partying, but I’m definitely glad to have my own bathroom. I take a quick shower, change into some real clothes, and brush my teeth, all the normal things.

And then I can’t avoid my mother anymore and I know it. I leave my room, hoping against hope that at least I’m not going to face Mom and Bev and Nolan and Dad, all arranged in the living room or something, waiting to scold me.

Mom’s in the kitchen with Dad nowhere in sight, and she looks up when I come in. Her expression isn’t very cheerful and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to enjoy whatever it is she has to say, but I know that at this point we might as well talk about it and get it over with.

“Can I at least get some coffee before you lay into me?”

Mom points to the pot, still a little less than half full, next to the sink, and I move about the kitchen grabbing a mug, filling it with coffee, adding some sugar and milk, and stirring it more than it needs before I take my first sip.

“Your father had to run to the office, so I figured we could get this out of the way before he comes back. Clear the air, so to speak,” Mom says.

I shrug, since that was more than I’d hoped for, and take another sip of my coffee. I grab a cranberry-orange scone and a napkin, and follow her to the table.

“First of all, I’d like to point out that I’m an adult, and that I wasn’t doing anything illegal or wrong last night,” I say.

“I’m aware that you didn’t break any laws last night. You’re over twenty-one. Both of you are single. Technically what you were up to wasn’t even immoral,” Mom says.

“Here’s where the ‘but’ comes in,” I say, breaking off a piece of the scone and putting it in my mouth.

“I want you to really think about what you were up to, and what you’re trying to accomplish,” Mom says.

“What I was up to was fooling around with a hot guy, and as for what I was trying to accomplish…” I have another bite of my scone and chase it with a big gulp of coffee. “I mean, I would think that’s obvious.”

“You’re not in college anymore,” Mom says.

“I think that’s apparent,” I tell her.

“You’re not in college anymore. You’re an adult, and you need to start looking for someone to settle down with,” she continues, as if I didn’t interrupt her.

I don’t really say anything to that, instead just continuing to eat my scone and drink my coffee. I’ve gotten these lectures before, and I know there’s not a whole lot of point in arguing with Mom until she’s said her piece.

“I want to see you in a stable relationship with someone who can give you, and your career, the kind of support you need. I want to see you with someone who’s serious the way you are and who you can count on to be there for you,” she says.

I can’t keep letting her talk. I finish the scone and drink a sip of coffee to clear my mouth and set the mug down. “But what if that isn’t what I want right now?”

I look around the house. My parents got married right out of college, and Mom already had me by the time she was the age I am now.

“Zane is practically a sibling to you,” Mom says, sighing. I cringe at the way she put it.

“Well, if he’s practically a sibling to me, he’s practically a son to you, however, that didn’t stop you ogling him and commenting on how hot he is a few days ago,” I point out. The words are out of me before I can even decide whether they’re a good idea or not.

“You grew up with him. He’s like a brother to you,” Mom continues.

“But we’re not related,” I insist.

“Even if that weren’t an issue, there’s the fact that he’s due to reenlist in a couple of months once his tour of duty is over,” Mom says.

I almost wish I’d chosen water instead of coffee. The caffeine is starting to kick in, at least a little bit, and my stomach is not all that happy with just a scone and some caffeine in it.

“What does that have to do with anything? And anyway, he doesn’t even know whether or not he’s going to reenlist.” I stop short, I was going to tell her that her point was moot, since I wasn’t even really looking for a relationship with Zane. Why didn’t I just say that then?

“There’s no future in any kind of relationship with Zane, and fooling around with him like this is going to put a strain on everyone,” Mom says.

“How is it going to put a strain on anyone?” I stare at her in amazement. She was somehow making Zane and me doing something together into a whole-family situation?

“Things are inevitably going to get awkward between you and him if you don’t nip it in the bud. Then once it becomes clear that there’s something going on between the two of you, something that went bad, there’s going to be all the awkwardness between his parents and your dad and me,” Mom says.

For a few moments all I can do is stare at her. I’m so taken aback by what she’s saying that it’s hard to even process what it was that she said.

“First of all, I never said that I’m even interested in a relationship with him,” I say. I try to get my wheeling and spinning thoughts to focus.

“Look, sweetie, you and Zane are just different kinds of people,” Mom says. That comment stirs something in me and suddenly instead of feeling anxious, or annoyed, I’m feeling hurt and angry.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s still in that ‘rack ‘em up’ phase of his life where his only goal is how many girls he can get with, and all you’ll be to him is another notch on his belt,” she pauses. “But you’re the smart girl, the career-minded girl, the one who’s going to really make something of herself. You need to be smart enough not to get all wrapped up in some guy who’s just going to forget about you as soon as you’re gone again,” Mom’s voice is consoling, but the words she’s saying are just like throwing kerosene on a fire that I’m starting to feel.

“I can’t believe this. I really can’t. You’re basically saying that because Zane is some kind of man-slut, I need to be the sensible one and not do anything with him or… I don’t even know what you think the downside of this is for me, other than that apparently I’m some lonely-heart virgin or something,” I say, shaking my head.

“Sweetie, it’s just that I know both of you. You’re not, either of you, made for a long-distance relationship,” Mom insists.

Before I even really know what I’m doing, I’m on my feet.

“I’m done talking about this,” I say. “I really don’t want to hear another word out of you about Zane, or me, or… or how Zane and me having a little fun is going to somehow ruin your friendship with Bev and Nolan.”

I hurry to my room, not even listening for Mom to call me back, not paying any attention to anything other than the need to get my purse and get the hell out of the house, as far away as I can go.

Mom tries to catch me at the front door, but I bark something about how if she tries to keep me from leaving the house I will absolutely call the police and have them be the reason the family is scandalized. It’s a stupid threat and I know it, but it gets me through the door.

Then I’m in my car, pulling out of the driveway, and turning onto the street to get as far away as I can as quickly as I can.