Page 90 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

Meri was right too. I’d been kept in a jar, and sure, I’d wanted that studio, but more than that, I’d wanted to show them I could make this happen. Sean and my father were always against me. Nick was the first person to tell me that I should—that Icould—go for it.

If I couldn’t have him, at least I’d have that.

Monday morning, I prepared myself to go back to the office. I went through the motions of ironing my clothes and picking out a tie. It was navy blue, the shirt was pale blue, the slacks were a charcoal gray. I looked like a storm cloud with no rainbow in sight.

When I’d woken up on the couch that morning, I’d thought for the briefest of seconds that Brit was in a bunk above me, that I could hear her breathing. Then I saw the plain white drywall of my ceiling and I remembered.

Now when I entered my office Tom was in my chair, his boots on my desk. With his dark beard and flannel shirt, he looked like he’d gotten lost on the way to the local brewery.

“Get the fuck up,” I said.

He laughed and bumped his fist against mine, taking that as the “It’s good to see you” that it was meant to be.

He made a show of looking at his watch as he exited my spot. “Still on Caribbean time?”

“I’ve been in the States for five days trying to get home.”

“Sounds like the trip from hell.”

I pictured Brit’s bare feet on the dashboard of the Rover, legs crossed, head tipped in the sun. Then the back of her head as she ran away from me. “Some of it.”

“So what’s the plan?” he asked, getting straight to the point. Thankfully. I wasn’t in the mood to chat. “Your dad is losing his shit.”

I pulled out my computer and made room for it on my desk. “It was my fault.”

Tom gave me a hard look. “We both know it wasn’t.”

“I usually take these meetings.”

“You weren’t in the state, Nick. This is his business, and he’s been running it since before we were born. You’re here now to clean it up, so don’t take the blame for this.”

His voice was sharp and the admonishment caught me by surprise. Tom and I had been close since we were kids, but lately it was in more of alet’s grab a beer and talk Fantasy Footballway. Now he sounded like Alex.

“Either way, it’s my problem now, right?” Even I could hear the bitterness in my words. I waved a hand over my laptop as it booted up.

Sorry you didn’t get the girl, but here’s a lifelong albatross around your neck instead.

Tom sat back down, this time on the edge of my desk. “I was hoping maybe you’d stay away a little longer.”

“Thanks, asshole.” I tried for a joke but then I realized I was the only one kidding. Tom’s jaw was set and I felt the air in the room shift away from business. My skin started crawling with the urge to leave. The last thing I wanted was to have a heart to heart while I was trying to keep it together. Not if it wasn’t from my brother.

“I’m serious, Nick,” he said. “You’ve always pushed yourself too hard, but since Alex . . . It’s not sustainable.”

That was rich considering no one else had picked up my slack while I was gone. I pushed my hand into my hair and squeezed. “If you wanted me to stay away, why didn’t you handle this shit for me while I was gone?”

It was unfair and we both knew it. My dad wanted me on the projects he thought were important. He didn’t trust anyone else.

Tom eyed me, his expression neutral. “Go ahead,” he said, holding out his hand. “Go off.”

“What?”

“You wanna be pissed off, go ahead. God knows you deserve it.”

I blinked at him. My brain was in a fog and I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me.

I thought about telling him about it. Brit, my mom, the way I felt buried by all of it. How the thing I’d always wanted had turned into a consolation prize, but even worse, now I wanted something else and those two things weren’t in the same place. And one of them wasn’t speaking to me.

I thought about flipping this desk over and storming out but I barely had the energy to sit there and scowl at him. “It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.

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