Page 45 of Coping Skills

Chapter Eighteen

“Mamá, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just too soon. I can’t handle being there for Thanksgiving break.”

Elena heard her mom sniff, and felt a familiar twinge of guilt. But she was taking her therapist’s advice and doing what she needed to to protect herself. And right now she was still trying to process everything that had happened since June. Her attempt to apologize to Daniel yesterday had been a spectacular failure. She was too raw and vulnerable to put herself in range of her father’s outbursts. She needed time and space to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t ever going to be the papi she’d grown up with.

“Can you at least come for Thanksgiving Day? Tomás will be here.”

Passing the phone from one hand to the other, Elena considered that. She could feasibly drive down on Thursday morning, have dinner with her family, and then drive back that night. Or stay with Hannah’s family. Hannah and Matt would be down there for Thanksgiving with her parents.

But she hadn’t even been able to handle an hour at Fall Break. Did she really think she could take several hours on top of a two and a half hour drive? And they were predicting snow this week.

“I don’t think I can.Lo siento.It’s supposed to snow this week, and the roads will be bad.”

Her mom’s sigh caused another pang of guilt. “Okay, mija. That’s probably smart. I just don’t like the thought of you sitting alone on Thanksgiving.”

“Some friends that live too far from family are having a Thanksgiving dinner for those of us still here. I was planning on going to their place.”

“Okay. Good. As long as you’re not alone.”

She smiled. “I won’t be. I promise. And I’ll have a lot of time to study for the LSAT, since Hannah and Matt are leaving on Tuesday. My time alone will be put to good use.”

“I’m glad.” Her mom let out another sigh. “I’ll talk to your papi about closing down operations, too. I’m sorry that I’ve expected you to keep things running all this time. I was just hoping …” She sniffed, and Elena felt more guilt at her mother’s tears.

“I know, mami. I was hoping that too. But I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

Her mom sniffed again. “I know. We’re going to apply for Social Security disability for him. So we need to close the business anyway.”

“Okay. That’s good. Thank you for understanding.” That was another thing her therapist had encouraged—talking to her mom about closing her dad’s business. Despite the lack of consulting, his clients were still referring web design work to him, which meant she was doing it. And she couldn’t handle the workload anymore. Not if she was finally going to take the LSAT, and she was determined not to put it off anymore. She only had a few more weeks to study. Hannah had been helping her. Not spending time with Daniel had helped free up time as well. Though the memory of the anger on his face and the way he’d practically run away from her after his game yesterday still stung. She couldn’t blame him, though.

After hanging up with her mom, she got out her test prep materials and settled in for an afternoon of studying. They had classes on Monday and Tuesday, but she’d finished the two papers due this week last night, needing something to distract her after Daniel’s rejection. She had other reading to do, but that could wait until tonight. She’d decided to apply to Stanford as well as some other schools. The thought of going far away had a much greater appeal than it used to, and her therapist’s repeated assurances that she wasn’t abandoning her family by pursuing her dreams made it easier to consider.

The guilt still reared its ugly head. She could deal with it better than she used to, either by ignoring it or reminding herself that taking care of her own needs made her better equipped to care for others.

The six hour drive to Portland gave Daniel lots of time to think. He skipped his afternoon class on Tuesday so he didn’t spend most of the drive in the dark. With his phone connected to the car’s bluetooth, he had his favorite playlists going the whole time. And while he sang along to some of the songs at the top of his voice, the way he only did when alone in the car, most of the time he thought about Elena.

And how great he’d thought everything had been.

And how it had all gone to shit in the blink of an eye. Or a kick in the head, as the case may be.

He’d been thinking about her almost nonstop since she came to the game. Coop’s attempts to distract him at the party didn’t work, and he’d left early, only able to fake having a good time for so long before he couldn’t anymore. And his teammates didn’t deserve to have him bringing them down with his moody bastard routine.

Coop had hassled him about calling Elena the next day, but he’d told him to drop it, and, for once, Coop had listened and let it go. But maybe his roommate had a point. Maybe if he let Elena apologize, it would give him the closure he needed to move on. The problem was, he didn’t know if he wanted to move on.

So he found himself stuck in this state of limbo, wanting two contradictory things. Part of him wished he could go back in time, back to when things with Elena were good. And the other part of him wished he could fast forward to a point where he didn’t still want her and miss her while simultaneously feeling betrayed by her.

But that would mean closing the book on her, on them, and moving on. And he couldn’t bring himself to do that yet.

He’d thought leaving, going home, would do him good. But once he found himself there, everything irritated him. His brother, Marcus, was too messy, the TV too loud, his mom too curious about everything. And then he and his brother had to go to their dad’s on Wednesday for Thanksgiving a day early with him and his latest girlfriend. They seemed to be getting younger. This one didn’t look like she was much older than him.

When they got to his house, Daniel had knocked, like he usually did. Marcus looked over at him and shook his head. “I don’t know why you always knock. Dad’s cool with us just coming in.”

Before Daniel could say anything, the door opened, and their dad stood there gesturing them inside. He wore jeans and an untucked button-down shirt with vertical blue stripes. He looked nice, put together, from his closely trimmed hair and goatee with the slightest amount of gray at the temples and sprinkled in his beard, to his tailored shirt and designer jeans, all the way down to his brown leather slip-on shoes.

As though to prove Marcus’s point, their dad pulled them each in for a quick hug and said, “What’s with the knocking? You know you can just come in. This is your home.”

Daniel grunted and looked away, managing to stop himself from denying that assertion. Their dad’s house was always that—their dad’s house. They’d stayed with him on alternate weekends and holidays. Now that they were both over eighteen, they were forced into this charade of duplicate holidays. Their parents alternated who got them on the actual day, and who got a different day. Since Mom had them for Thanksgiving Day, they’d be at their dad’s on Christmas Day, celebrating with Mom on Christmas Eve.

It didn’t matter. Mom’s house was home, and the celebrations with her were the real holidays as far as Daniel was concerned.

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