Sail (Wake #2) (5 page)

Saturday, January 2, 2010

I WOKE UP FEELING like the world was spinning in the same direction as I was. It was the beginning of me taking back control of the steering wheel of my life. And knowing that win, lose, or draw, I was going to make the decisions for myself and what I wanted.

Stretching my arms and legs, I felt rested and surprisingly fantastic, considering the shit of a day I knew I might have in front of me. My phone fell on the floor, and it reminded me I’d fallen asleep after talking to Casey. And while my body woke up, my mind informed me of the plans and decisions it had made for me while I slept peacefully, dreaming of big brown curls in my face and his sweet, warm breath in my ear.

It felt like a Sunday even though it was only Saturday. Middle of the week holidays always screwed with me. Days seemed to disappear. I hadn’t even made any resolutions and it was already the second day of the New Year.

I used the room phone to call downstairs for some coffee and eggs to be brought up and then I flipped on the television. I hadn’t slept in as late as I thought I might, having not had any rest for a few days. But honestly, the sleep I’d been getting in the past few months had been restless anyway. I’d toss and turn and get up for water. Or I’d get up and reread old Casey text messages in the bathroom and check out Twitter to see if there were any new pictures of him.

The unhealthy behavior wasn’t normal. I wasn’t well. Did I really think I could last a whole year like that? None of it had felt right. It was as if my life was being filmed in front of a live studio audience and no one showed me the script.

That was until New Year’s Eve.

Until my layover in Reno.

Until last night.

Everything was so much clearer. I was taking the path of most resistance from everyone and every outside force, except my heart. My heart was pumping in his name, chanting, “Casey. Love. Affection. Forever.” Its steady cadence pushed me forward.

I’d been there for him last night. We were there for each other. If this was going to work at all, that was the biggest thing we had to work on. It wasn’t so much an honesty thing as much as it was necessary transparency.

We didn’t have a flair for lying to each other. We never did. Our missteps were taken with doubt and insecurity. I’d bet on safety and used my happiness as the wager.

After the room service was delivered and I took another quick shower, I picked my phone up off the floor with a mission, and grew a pair of balls.

But first, I wanted to prove I wasn’t just talking the talk to Casey, and I sent him a message.

Me: Good morning. I slept really well last night. I’m going to talk to my parents today. How’d you sleep?

After I pressed send, I propelled myself forward and instead of waiting to hear back from him. I dialed my mom and dad’s house. On the third ring, my dad picked up.

“Good morning and Happy New Year, Blake,” he said. They had caller ID so he knew it was me.

“Hey, Dad. Happy New Year.”

“How was San Fran? Are you back home?” His calm and steady voice fueled me. Reassured me.

For so long I’d been worried about what they would think of me. Of the situation. Of Casey. But there was only one way to truly find out. To throw the cards in the air and let them fall where they may.

“San Francisco was…interesting. I’m back in Seattle now. Are you and Mom going to be around today?” I wasn’t going to tell them on the phone. I wanted to look them in the eyes and come clean about what I’d been doing. I needed to take responsibility—if for nothing more than to prove I could. I wanted them to see it wasn’t easy for me and I hadn’t made my decisions spontaneously or without a lot of thought.

“Yeah, I’m going with Shane to the gym. But we’ll be around. You and Grant coming over?”

This was the test. The first step. The starting line.

“No. Just me. Grant isn’t coming. Something happened at Micah’s wedding. I need to talk to you and Mom about it.”

“Are you all right? What happened?” Anxiety laced his words.

I made sure my voice held firm and that I sounded confident. If I sounded worried and unsure, that would leave the door open for their opinions and I didn’t want the impression I had any doubt. Of course I wanted to like their opinion, but I didn’t need it. What I needed was support, one way or another.

“I’m fine. Pretty good, I think. I was thinking about coming over in an hour or two.”

“That’s fine. You have a key if nobody is here. Mom’s at the store, but she shouldn’t be that long.” He paused. “You know, I can stay here. Shane can go by himself if you want to come now. I’m here.”

God, I loved my dad. But I’m sure he probably guessed what it was about, considering I’d told him much of the truth from the start. Well, everything except that I was undeniably in love with Casey, and that I was ending my marriage with Grant as soon as possible. He didn’t know any of that.

“No, it’s fine. You go with Shane, and I’ll be by later.”

“If you’re sure, all right.”

“I’m sure. See you later, Dad.”

“Okay, Blake. See you in a bit.”

When I hung up, I saw Casey had replied to my text while I was talking to my dad.

Casey: Good morning to you too. I slept pretty damn well. Don’t worry about your mom and dad. It’ll be okay. I’m here if you need me. Call me later.

Even though I’d been so scared of the coming conversation with my family—and consequently with my husband—for so long, having almost reached it, I wasn’t worried it was going to be as bad as I’d made it out to be. I’d just have to see how the rest of the day went.

Pulling up to my parents’ house in a cab was a little weird. I’d need to go get my car and figure out what I was going to do for living arrangements soon.

Shit. I was doing the same thing I’d pitied Shane for not so long ago. He’d moved back into my family’s house during his separation and subsequent divorce, around the time I’d met Casey.

I could handle staying there for a few nights, but I didn’t think I’d be able to move back in with all of them. It’d be too weird, like we were children again. In some ways I still
was
a child, learning how to be in love—real love—for the first time. I’m sure to Mom and Dad, Shane, Reggie, and I would always be just kids. They were good parents and knowing we could always count on them made us trust that, no matter what, we could always come home.

I walked up the steps and instantly knew Mom was home. The volume with which she was listening to her favorite album was the tip off. Clearly my dad was still gone because the Grease soundtrack was cranked. As I opened the door and stood in the foyer of their split-level townhouse, I smiled to myself and listened to her croon. That woman knew every single word. To every single song. On both sides of both records. I’d heard her sing them plenty of times, but never when she thought she was alone.

In her solitude the woman wailed. It wasn’t bad; she sang in key. It was just funny because it was
my
mom. Overdramatic was not her gig, but she could’ve made a damn fine career as a backup singer for the Pink Ladies.

“Mom!” I shouted from the door as I pulled off my coat and tucked my scarf and gloves in the sleeve. “I’m here!”

She popped her head around the staircase wall and smiled at me. She didn’t react as if Dad had mentioned to her I wanted to have a come-to-Jesus meeting about my life, like I’d alluded to on the phone. She was happily bee-bopping around in the kitchen like I wasn’t about to drop a bomb. That suited me just fine, at the moment anyway.

“Hi, sweetheart. Let me turn this down.” She went back into the kitchen for a towel and walked across the living room to the stereo, turning the music down to an almost normal level. “Did you know that a little theater downtown is redoing Grease? I could be Rizzo.”

“You totally could, Mom.” When I stopped at the stairs, it was evident she’d been in there whipping up something for dinner. By the looks of it, she was making meatloaf. Yuck. I promptly decided it would be a good idea to stay at the hotel for another night. I’d need to grab some food that didn’t resemble a flesh pile.

“So how was the wedding? Did you take pictures? Did Grant have a good time?” she asked as she went back to her wad of meat.

Taking a seat at the island, I absentmindedly opened a cooking magazine and began flipping through it, trying to land on what to say and what to hold back. I’d really hoped I could talk to both of them at the same time, but if my dad didn’t show up, I’d be spilling it to my mom alone.

“The wedding was beautiful, it was totally Micah. When is Dad supposed to be back?” I asked. My leg was bouncing on the rung of the stool I was perched on. I felt waves of nervousness come and go like an emotional tide in my belly.

She cracked a few eggs and tossed the shells in the trash, but when she did, the face she gave me indicated she’d caught on to my conversation shift.

“Anytime now. Is everything okay, Blake?” she questioned, wiping her hand on a dishtowel tucked into her yoga pants.

“Yeah, I mean, everything is going to be okay. I just sort of wanted to talk to you both. Together.” I flipped through the magazine. There was no way she was going to let it drop and my prayers were answered when I heard the shutting of car doors outside.

She cocked her head sideways and then returned to the oven to preset the temperature.

“Just face it, you’re old,” my brother, Shane, told our dad as they came through the door below in the foyer of their split-level house. “And since there isn’t any proof that what you say is true, I’m sticking with my gut and believing your alleged benching stats are nothing more than an old man’s fishing tale.”

“You’re a shithead. When are you moving out?” my dad swiftly argued back, both of them laughing.

“I can’t very much leave my feeble parents now. Not when my father is mental and his physical condition is declining so fast.”

“Declining? I ran three miles today,” Dad countered. “That’s more than you ran, son.” I watched my dad’s chest puff up with pride as the two bickered back and forth.

“I told you. Today wasn’t my cardio day. I’m
alternating.
”

They squabbled as they filed up the stairs.

“
Alternating
between bullshit and reality as usual,” my dad teased. Then, when he noticed us, he said, “
Both
of my girls. Hi, baby girl,” he added, just to me, as he rounded the island and went to my mom, wrapping his arms around her.

“You’re all sweaty, Phillip.” She squirmed, but smiled showing she really didn’t protest as much as she tried to let on.

“I know. It’s from all the circles I ran around your first-born,” he affirmed as he kissed the side of her head. They’d always been loving in front of us—nothing too disturbing—but the older I got, the more I appreciated their affection for one another. I valued seeing the love my parents still had for one another. Sitting there, I was a little jealous of how easy it came for them. I wondered if they’d ever struggled in love. Probably not.

But with my eyes wide open, seeing them together felt like the confirmation I was looking for. I was leaving a
marriage
I wasn’t in love with, a
man
I wasn’t in love with, and it was the right choice. The only choice I had if I wanted real love. Real intimacy. With Casey.

Preparing to deliver the news with regards to my marriage, I hoped their lack of love trouble didn’t affect how they viewed mine.

“Blake wants to talk to us,” my mom stated as she skillfully danced out of his arms and rummaged through a drawer for a whisk. Pointing the utensil at him she continued, “Go shower, and we’ll all sit down to eat.”

I’d be choking down flesh pile with my family. Crow and meatloaf for dinner.

My brother filled a glass with water and turned around to listen when Mom had said I needed to talk, like something major was going on. I suppose there was, but the attention shifting to me like that made me even more nervous on the inside. On the outside, I tried to maintain my cool.

“Are you okay?” Shane asked, concern wrinkling his brow. For the better part of the last few years, Shane had fallen into a sort of life slump. Since moving back in with Mom and Dad, his post-divorce life seemed stalled. Over the past year, he’d drunk more than I was used to seeing from him, became more closed off, and I even worried if he’d suffered a little from depression. But then again, who wouldn’t?

Looking at him, I acknowledged he was the one who invited our dad to the gym and I realized he was beginning to look better. Starting to look like pre-Kari Shane. It made me happy seeing him coming out of his love-funk. Hopefully, he was bouncing back from wherever he’d gone.

“I’m fine,” I assured quietly and shook my head to dispel his brotherly worry. “I’ve just made some decisions and want to let you guys know what’s going on. You two go shower, and I’ll help Mom with dinner. It’s fine. Really.”

They all sort of looked at each other agreeing, then Shane and Dad left to clean up.

“I’ll wash up and help you out,” I told my mother, then made my way to the powder room to wash my hands and get a grasp on my nerves. I really missed Casey, but I knew this was the only way I’d ever get him.