The girls aren’t talking to me. Well, they aren’t talking to me any more than usual. And after these last few days of silence, I’m not sure what to do. I’m lost—angry—upset that so many things are the way they are in my life. I should be grateful I have two healthy daughters and a killer job that more than pays the bills. But I’m just fuckin’ terrified that I’m ruining their lives.

After I caught that fucking boy in Rianna’s room again—this time they were making out in her bed—I freaked out. It, in turn, led to the birds and the bees talk and ultimately her confession of not being a virgin. Which at fourteen years old is too young. Hell, I don’t even think I lost my virginity until I was sixteen.

Regardless, my reaction to it all was . . . dreadful. In my defense, I have no clue how I’m supposed to be okay with the news that my little girl is sexually active.

Then the shit that went down with Mia . . . God, it’s taking everything I have to keep that out of my head, too.

I can’t believe I finally got up the courage to go to her. But I just felt like I needed her, a woman, to help me understand what Rianna told me. But she has a fuckin’ boyfriend, and like a dumbass, I had no idea.

Getting up from my couch, I grab another beer, and just as I crack it open, Rianna comes upstairs from the basement. She rolls her eyes at me and turns right back around. “Come on,” I groan to her retreating back. It’s obvious she’s still pissed at me, but fuck, give me a break. I’m really trying here.

The steps halt creaking, a sign she’s stopped walking, and she asks, “What?” I take a deep breath, wishing I could shake some sense into her but knowing I can’t.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.”

There’s no response, and I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand.

Think, fucker, think.

The stairs squeak again, and I just blurt out the only thing I can think of. “I was thinking of going camping this weekend.”

The squeaking stops again. “You were?” she asks, and the question in her tone settles my stomach a little. Camping is what we always used to do as a family. Before Georgia left, we went all the time.

“Why?” she asks and finally comes upstairs so I can see her face.

“Why not?”

“Uh, we haven’t been since before Mom left.”

“I know, and lately things have been rough between us all, I thought it might help.”

Hell, what can it hurt?

“Aren’t I grounded again?” she asks. Referring to the order I threw down after catching that fucker in her room again.

God, why does my brain go there? The thought alone makes me angry.

“Ria, I’m trying here.”

She shakes her head and says to me, “Then stop controlling everything we do.”

“I don’t mean to. I try to give both you and your sister space, but what you told me and then this boy being in your room twice now has really messed with my head.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about him anymore because he broke up with me.”

That little fucker. I’m going to kill him.

“Oh, Ria,” I tell her and walk across the room so I can pull her into a tight embrace. How could he do that to her? Be with her like that and then just break up with her? She holds me back the way she used to when she was little. Hugs from her like this are something I miss so much. No matter how old she gets, I’ll always think of her as my little girl.

“I’m sorry.”

She sniffles against my chest, and I pat the back of her hair, holding her just a bit closer. I’m not really sure what to say. She’s too young to be upset about a boy, especially to have a broken heart over one. Yet, here she is. She should have her mother to talk to. Anger boils like an old friend inside me, and I swallow it down. We don’t need Georgia; we only need each other. “So, what do you say? Wanna get out of here and go camping?”

She nods, and I hope it will help, hell . . . what can it hurt?

* * *

“You do realize you picked the busiest weekend in the world to go camping, don’t you?” Chandler says to me through the phone, as I load the last of our gear into my SUV. His words are a blur because all I want to do is ask him about Mia and find out if she is really seeing that guy. He hasn’t said a word about it, which is unlike him, so maybe he doesn’t know, either. “You hear me, pussy?” he yells.

“Yeah, I fucking hear you. Winter Island State Park was the only place that I could find with any spots left, and I need to get away, so we’re going.” My head is so full, I feel like it’s about to explode.

“You know why they have open spots? Because it’s near that creepy ass ghost town of Salem, and no one wants to go there.”

“Whatever, you know that’s all a myth, right?”

“Fuck you, those witches still live there.”

“And what, you think they are gonna come to the campground and fuck with me?”

“Absolutely I do, man,” Chandler says, and I can’t help but chuckle at him.

“You’re out of your mind, you know that? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should come camping, too. You need some fresh air to clear your head.” It’s a hollow suggestion. There is no way in the world he’d go camping.

“Fuck you!”

“Sure thing. I gotta hit the road.”

“Sounds good, have fun being murdered by a cult of witches.”

“Bye, douche bag.”

“It was nice knowing—” I hang up on him and shake my head. Only Chandler would be scared of witches.

Regardless of how busy it’s gonna be, I’m still excited to go. We’ll have our own spot and our peace and quiet to recharge.

I slam the back of my SUV closed and head inside, yelling, “Ready?” to the girls as I head to the basement.

“You’re not bringing that,” I hear Rianna yell and it stops me short. Maisy and Rianna are standing at the bottom of the stairs, and they have a framed picture of Georgia between them.

“It’s only a picture.”

“Yeah, and it’s weird you wanna bring it. Mom isn’t dead. If she wanted to be here with us, she could be. She left us, Maisy.” Rianna tugs the frame, but Maisy doesn’t let it go.

As I look at Maisy gripping onto the frame, I can tell she is hurting. I make my way downstairs. “What’s wrong?”

“She wants to bring that with us, and it’s weird, Dad.”

“Give your sister some slack, okay?”

“Why, you don’t give me slack?”

I take a deep breath, doing my damnedest not to fight with them this weekend. “Will you give us a second?” I ask Rianna, and she trudges up the stairs with her backpack in hand.

Maisy sniffles and I reach for the photo out of her grip, which she hesitantly gives over to me. “Don’t cry, honey.” It’s a photo of Georgia fishing from when she and I first started dating. She was pregnant with Ria and looks so young.

“Why did mom have to leave us?” I’m not sure how to answer her. In the years since Georgia left, she’s never asked me that. I can’t say it’s because I wouldn’t stop fighting or because she chose drinking over her own family. There is no way I’m telling her that her mother just didn’t love us enough to stay.

“Sometimes people change; one day you’ll understand.”

She blinks at me with her big blue eyes, watching as I flip the picture over and pull open the back of the frame. “Here, keep this in your pocket,” I say as I hand Maisy the picture.