Page 50 of Ghost of Ex-mas Past
Arlo is quiet while I take deep breaths, move the car seat back to give myself more room, and stare at the odometer.
13,729. 13,729. 13,729.
There’re small things my therapist taught me, but they help.
Eventually, I calm down. Arlo has probably heard my heavy, measured breathing throughout this entire ordeal, and he’s been waiting patiently.
“I’m here. I’m better,” I say.
“Good. Talk to me more. You said you don’t know what you’re doing? Tell me what you’re literally doing right now and how you got there.”
Another coping mechanism.
I explain how after his call I left my family. I borrowed Bea’s car and left her—and everyone else—extremely pissed at me. I drove halfway to the city before my brain caught up.
“What were you going to do when you got to the city?”
“Go to the office and...I don’t know. Try to fix things.”
Arlo goes quiet for a moment. “Fix things? How?”
“I don’t know! Talk to someone at ImmUniverse, I guess. Talk to a lawyer. Call Tasha.”
“None of that requires your office. You could have done those things with your family around you, supporting you. And I highly advise you not to talk to anyone at ImmUniverse. And why would you want to?”
I’m silent for a beat too long.
“Charlie,” Arlo says carefully. “The deal is over. Not formally, but you don’t want to do this deal. I know you. This is not what you want anymore.”
My chest gets tight again and I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m back where I started last year and in an even worse spot. My exit strategy has failed and I’m trapped again, my business an albatross of stress pulling me down. Any dreams I have of caring for my family, taking care of Bea...they’re all gone. Or at least delayed an indeterminate amount of time.
When I can finally speak, my voice is hoarse and choked. “I wanted it so badly.”
“I know you did. But don’t sacrifice everything else for this, okay?”
I nod. He’s right, of course. I feel dumb for not seeing it myself.
“Okay?” he repeats, and this time I say it out loud.
“Okay.”
“Would it be helpful to review some of your other exit strategy options now, or do you need to get off the highway?”
I give a shaky laugh. “Can we do both?”
“Of course.”
I run my hands down my face and square my shoulders. I press the gas pedal and speed up, merging back into traffic as Arlo and I talk through some options while I take the next exit.
25
Bea
Someone knocks on my door,and I look up from my laptop. “Come in,” I call.
All three of my sisters poke their heads into the room. When their eyes land on me—with my laptop out, my tablet next to it, a notebook in my lap and a pen in my hand—their faces shift. Yvette grins, Naomi’s eyes narrow, and Kayla sags and rolls her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Naomi puts her hands on her hips and glares down at me. It’s not super effective because she has to bend over to look at me since I’m on the bottom bunk.
