One Pink Line (12 page)

The Beta house was having their end of the year dance at a hotel in Indianapolis. Jenna and I assumed that one of the guys would ask us to go, since they had no legitimate dates to invite.

“Well, with that chivalrous invitation, how could I say no?” Jenna accepted. “I get shotgun on the drive down.”

Kevin looked at me and winked. “Guess that leaves you and me, sister.”

“I would love to,” I said. “But what about Alexa? You know she’s going to blow a gasket if she doesn’t get asked by someone.”

Rocco belched. “I talked with Tim’s housemate, Barney, he said he’d take Alexa and double-up with Tim and Andrea,” he said as Kevin began to clear the table to “Blue Suede Shoes.”

“Great,” Jenna clapped. “We have to make sure we get rooms on the same floor, and maybe we can drive down early and spend the day at the indoor pool?”

“Can I book a massage for you as well?” Rocco asked sarcastically.

“If you want to make up for the pathetic invite, you can,” she told him.

He leaned back, balancing his chair on only two of its four legs. “The dance is in two weeks, if you want to change your mind and catch Casablanca at the Student Union instead, let me know and I’ll go stag.”

“You’re a shit,” she slapped him.

Jenna and I did the dishes, and then set up the make-your-own sundae bar we brought. After we were through, the four of us went to Harry’s bar to meet up with the rest of our friends who skipped dinner on account of studies, but always made time for Harry’s. Three Long Island iced teas later, I was back in my bed, belly full and head spinning. There were three messages from Ethan on my answering machine.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

grace

“I
want to speak with my father tomorrow,” I repeated. “Do you J-know how to reach him?”

Mom glanced at the clock on my nightstand. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

She forcefully gathered some of my clothes off the floor and shoved them in the laundry hamper. “It’s just not that easy.” she snapped at me, which was not something she did very often. It was clear I’d hit a nerve, but at that age, I struggled to appreciate her sensitivity to the subject.

“Goodnight, Grace, we can talk more about this later, okay, honey,” she regained her composure.

“Okay, Mom.”

She closed the door behind her, and I grew more anxious to understand why she reacted the way she did. My confidence slid off the bed that night as I grew more and more insecure about who I was. My whole world seemed like one huge embarrassment, and all I could picture were people pointing and whispering. Especially people in my own family who’d been privy to my shame for years.

“Mom,” I approached her in the kitchen the next morning as she was wiping Patch’s hands clean.

“Morning, honey,” she said to me, and then kneeled in front of Patch. “Go get your book bag and your gym shoes, okay?” she told him.

He scurried away and she began to rinse his cereal bowl. I could feel her wishing me away.

“Mom, I really want to call my dad.”

She dropped the bowl in the sink and it sounded like it broke, but didn’t. She placed her hands on the edge of the sink. “He’s not your Dad.”

“Why are you getting so mad?” I asked sincerely.

“Because it’s very complicated, and this man has never been in your life, and you cannot just call him up out of the blue.”

I felt a surge of adolescent defiance when I realized that I wasn’t going to get what I wanted. “Well it wouldn’t be out of the blue if you’d told me the truth!”

She gestured to the kitchen island for me to have a seat. “I know this is hard for you, and I knew that once this day came, that it would be the hardest thing we would have to face as a family,” she said softly.

I could tell that she didn’t want this to turn into a fight. She hated arguments and did not respond well to me yelling at her.

Then it hit me. Maybe he didn’t even know I existed. I mean, she’d already kept this information from me; the one person she apparently loved more than anything, so maybe my father was also in the dark.

I was breathing heavily, and my face was scrunched in anger, but I lowered my voice. “Does he even know about me?”

She tilted her head toward the ceiling and left it there as she answered. “Yes, Grace, he does know about you.” A slow trickle of air escaped her nostrils and she turned to face me. “Which is precisely why this is going to be so difficult for you, and I.”

“Why for you?”

“Because it kills me to see you struggling with this, and quite honestly, I have no idea whether he’ll be willing to talk to you or not.”

Her words slapped me across the face, and left a stinging burn.

“What do you mean, I’m his daughter, why wouldn’t he want to talk to me?” I asked, thinking she was delusional and selfish. How could she have said that to me?

Patch walked back in the kitchen and handed her his gym shoes. She stood up, placed him on the island, and began to lace him up.

I pushed my stool away from the granite counter top and created a loud screech against the wood floor. “I want to call him, and he wants to talk to me!” I screamed at her like a frustrated basketball coach, and both she and Patch jumped out of their skin. I grabbed my backpack and headed to the bus stop in tears.

As I approached the corner where two of my neighbors were waiting for the bus, I decided to walk to school instead. The fact that I was going to miss the first bell, and be late for classes had literally no effect on me whatsoever And heck, since I was going to be late, why not skip school altogether.

After about an hour and a half, my mom found me at the park. Her eyes were puffy and red and she approached me as if she was trying to catch a stray cat.

“You had me worried sick, honey.”

I let my feet dangle in the sand beneath my swing.

“Grace, I take full responsibility for everything, okay. I’m not angry with you, and it’s completely my fault that you are sitting here,” she came closer and crouched down in front of me. “I was completely naïve, and in denial about the effect all of this would have on you, and if you will give me another chance, I would like to sit you down and explain everything,” she reached for my hand and I let her take it. “Please give me the chance to make this right.”

I nodded.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sydney

I
could hear Ethan leaving a message as I stepped out of the shower. I grabbed my robe and ran into the kitchen.

“Hello,” I said breathlessly, and hit the stop button on the answering machine.

“Hey you, I was just leaving a message.”

“Sorry about that, I was in the shower and heard you. How are you?”

Ethan had been getting tired of not being able to reach me. I wasn’t home very often during that last semester, and he was always complaining that every time he called he had to talk to the machine.

“I’m good, what are you up to?” he asked.

I was about twenty minutes away from being picked up by Kevin for the Beta formal in Indy, but I hadn’t told Ethan about any of it. He knew I spent a lot of time with Kevin, Rocco and my other guy friends, but an out of town, overnighter might have pushed him over the edge of his tolerance wall.

“Just getting ready to go out.” Enough said. “How’s work?”

“It’s work.”

“Have you finished training your intern?” I asked. Ethan was given an intern for the spring, and he had been bringing them up to speed.

“Yeah, he was here every afternoon for two weeks, and then he starts full time in June. It’ll be nice having someone to boss around. Anyway, Caddyshack is on WGN tonight, maybe we can watch it together on the phone? We might even get through the whole thing.”

I glanced at the clock; Kevin was due to be at my apartment in ten minutes. “You’re going to be annoyed with me, but Jenna is going to be here any minute, and I’m dripping wet.”

“Sounds hot.”

“Pretty chilly actually,” I said.

He let out a sigh of frustration…if he only knew. “Alright, Syd, have fun, and be careful. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Call me later, okay?”

“Okay,” I said and my knees buckled from the guilt. I lied to Ethan and I wouldn’t call him later. Kevin and I were just friends, but Ethan would never tolerate me spending the night with him in a hotel room, and I didn’t have the energy to argue about it. This was one of my last collegiate hurrahs, and I simply had no desire to create unnecessary drama. I knew I would have to spend Sunday afternoon on the phone with Ethan backpedaling and apologizing.

We said our goodbyes, then I hung up the phone and shook my head. I was annoyed, and wasn’t going to let Ethan bring me down this weekend. He was always making me feel badly about enjoying myself. Not this time. I removed the charcoal pearl necklace I’d just put on, grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

“I thought you called shotgun?” I asked Jenna as I peeked inside Kevin’s car. She was already in the backseat with Rocco when they picked me up for the dance.

“My date is riding back here with me,” Rocco answered for her and threw his arm around the back of her neck.

Jenna grimaced and shook it off her shoulders.

The drive to Indianapolis was about an hour, during which we stopped at McDonalds for Jenna and me, Hardee’s for Rocco, Steak ’n Shake for Kevin, and Dairy Queen for the group. The lingering scent of fried grease was barely tolerable.

After arriving at the hotel and checking in, Jenna and I went straight to our rooms, while the guys went straight to the bar.

When we reached the fourth floor, our rooms were at opposite ends of the hall, so we parted and agreed to meet back at the elevators in fifteen minutes. I put my tote bag on the bed, and hung my dress in the closet in hopes of removing the wrinkles inflicted from Kevin’s trunk. I fished my Le Sportsac make-up case out of my backpack, reapplied some eyeliner, and brushed the Quarter Pounder off my tongue in less than five minutes. Then I thought of Ethan. Staring at the two queen-size beds meant for Kevin and I made me think of Ethan. I tugged on the roots of my hair. All I wanted was guilt-free fun, but I instead I felt like a naughty toddler. I would get mad at Ethan for making me feel badly, and then I would feel like a complete shithead for blaming him.

I left the room and waited for Jenna in the hallway.

“Sorry, my curling iron took forever to warm up,” she said, walking briskly toward me and zipping her purse.

“I’m feeling bad about Ethan.”

She gave me a knowing eye roll. “Why, what’d he say?”

“Nothing, he called me this morning, but he doesn’t know where I am.”

“So no worries then, my pretty,” she said and repeatedly tapped the elevator button.

“How does he always seem to know when I’m out doing something I shouldn’t be doing?” I asked.

“What shouldn’t you be doing, Syd?” she padded her lower lip, then tucked her lip-gloss into her front pocket. “He’s miles away, and what does he expect?”

“He doesn’t expect anything…except that maybe I’m not road-tripping with frat boys all over Indiana.”