CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
MILO
It had been a half hour.
I’d stopped pounding on the door and was now rummaging through the different drawers of the guest room for a protein bar . . . those things never went bad, right?
Starved, I walked into the adjoining bathroom and was half tempted to start eating cough drops when a soft knock on the door interrupted my search.
“Yes?” I said in an exasperated voice. “Have you come to set me free?”
“No.” The voice was Jenna’s. “Actually, I’m here to help you, but you have to promise not to run past me or punch me in the face.”
“Jason’s black eyes were total accidents.” I crossed my arms defensively. “Swear.”
“Honey, you don’t need to defend yourself to us.”
“What do you guys want?”
After a moment of silence Jenna said, “We have food.”
I chewed my lower lip and looked down at the bag of cherry cough drops in my hand. “What kind of food?”
“Chocolate-covered almonds, fruit snacks, three different types of cheeses, and some crackers.”
I scowled and looked down at the floor. “Do the crackers have sea salt?”
“Yup!” Dang, I could practically see Jenna’s beaming smile through the door.
“Fine. I won’t run.”
The lock turned and Jenna and my mom both entered, then slammed the door behind them, barricading it with their bodies.
“Guys, chill.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not an escaped convict.”
Mom’s eyebrows rose as if to say, Sure you aren’t, honey. Sure you aren’t.
Geez, you hit one person with a ping pong ball and accidently impale him and suddenly you’re a felon!
“The food?” I sniffled, sitting on the bed.
“Here.” Jenna unloaded a giant basketful of goodies onto the bed. It was like staring at heaven. No, seriously. I wasn’t one of those girls who got tiny hunger pangs when it was time to eat, then took a few sips of water, burped, wiped my mouth, and announced I was full.
Hell, no.
Carbs. Give. Me. Carbs. Give me protein. Give me chocolate and I’ll be your best friend.
My mom was actually so concerned with my chocolate addiction when I was little that she had to repeatedly tell me that if a nice young man or woman offered me candy I had to scream at the top of my lungs.
Unfortunately for her, she never told me that Santa was supposed to offer candy to kids. Thus my being blacklisted during the Christmas of ’04 from the mall.
I swear that damn Santa still gives me the stink-eye.
“So!” Mom clapped her hands. “We don’t have a long time, so there’s really nothing to be done with that hair of yours.”
I touched my hair self-consciously with one hand while I gnawed on a Snickers bar with the other. “What do you mean? Time?”
“Yeah.” Jenna tapped her chin with her pointer finger. “But I think if we keep it down and just wrap it into a low bun it will look really classic.”
“Great idea!” My mom reached for my hair and pulled. There was no escaping. She was like a girl who had just discovered her first Barbie and didn’t realize that plastic hair didn’t grow back.
“Ouch!” I snapped as my roots begged for relief. “Mom! This is why I never let you do my hair when I was little!”
“You’re fine.” She pulled again. I sighed.
She tugged again. My head followed the direction of the tug, it had no choice unless it wanted to get ripped off.
Not fine, not fine, not fine. “What’s going on?”
Jenna walked out of the room and returned with something in a garment bag.
“Just in time!” Mom announced, forgetting to let go of my hair as she walked over to Jenna and pulled me onto the floor. “Oh, sorry, honey.”
“I’m good.” I pushed to my feet and approached the shiny black bag. “What’s this?”
“Your dress.” Jenna giggled. “Duh.”
“I already have my dress for the wedding.” I pointed down. “I’m wearing it.”
“Right, but Jason’s wedding isn’t happening,” Mom explained. “So you need a new dress.”
“For the new pretend wedding?”
“For . . .” Mom looked at Jenna, then thrust her hand into the air. “For your father’s and my vow renewal.”
A tear started rolling down her cheek.
“He’s been such a good, good man, and all this time, he’s stood by me. Through . . . thick and thin, through war and peace.”
Weird speech, but I hugged her anyway.
“And we can’t get the money back—it’s too late—so we thought it might be nice, with friends and family around us, to make that commitment, especially in front of our children.”
And suddenly I was feeling emotional because I’d done nothing except lie to her, lie to Colton, cause harm to Jason, and allow Grandma to sink her claws into an innocent young man who might not make it through the night without getting taken advantage of.
“Mom.” I sighed and fell into her arms. “I’m so sorry! You guys deserve this, you deserve a chance to renew your vows. I feel selfish, and stupid. I was throwing a fit and—”
“Oh, sweetie.” Mom laughed. “We’re used to that.”
“I’m sorry for that too.”
“Honey, the heart wants what it wants.” She peeled my arms away from her body and held my hands out in front of me. “Never apologize for fighting until your last breath for what you want in life. That’s how things happen, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Mom’s eyes twinkled. “You have to want love more than your next breath. Love shouldn’t be something you jump into because it’s the right time in your life or because your friends are all married. It should be something that happens naturally, and in the end it turns into the supernatural because suddenly you can’t imagine waking up every day without that other half. You no longer want to be an individual but a team. There is no coexisting in marriage—it’s a partnership—and you have to want it, you have to sometimes make yourself want it, but the need has to be before the want. Do you get what I mean?”
“Kind of.” I nodded.
She slapped her hand over my mouth and pushed me against the bed, both plugging my nose and making it so I couldn’t breathe out of my mouth. Holy crap, my mom was killing me. She’d officially snapped. I knew I was the bad kid, knew it!
I thrashed about for what felt like minutes when really it was like ten seconds.
Jenna watched in absolute horror.
Then Mom pulled away her hand. As I gasped for air and stared at Mom like the lunatic she was, she leaned over and whispered, “You have to want it as much as you want your next breath—you have to want Colton as much as you need air to survive—love is survival.” With that she pulled back, stood, and offered a bright smile. “So why don’t we get you dressed?”
And my parents wondered why their kids hadn’t turned out normal.
What’s worse?
She made absolute perfect sense.