Page 89 of Reckless At Raleigh High
“It’s nothing really. Just a little trinket—” Silver begins to say, but I cut her off, crushing my mouth to hers. The kiss is long, and deep, and it burns in my fucking soul.
When I pull back, I say, “It’snotnothing. It’severything, Silver. It’s more than I know what to do with. Thank you. I’ll die before I take it off.”
We pack up our picnic, and we get ready to head back to the apartment. As we leave, I whisper a goodbye-for-now to my brother, not caring if Silver hears it.“See ya around, little man. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Happy birthday, Alex.”
44
CAMERON
When you have kids, your dreams, your hopes and your aspirations are no longer your own. Every positive thing you wish for becomes a wish offered up on behalf of someone else. For your children, you pray for health. You pray that they’ll be content and never suffer heartbreak or misery. As they play and you watch their personalities develop one day at a time, you hope that life will be kind to them, and you’ll be able to arm them with every skill and character trait they’ll need to navigate the murky, treacherous waters of adulthood. Most of all, you hope that they’ll find someone to love and be loved by. For a family and a support network of their own, that will bring them joy and fulfillment. At least that’s how it was for me. From the very first moment I held Silver in my arms, I knew that whatever wishes or luck I’d been allotted in this life were now all hers. Max came along, and it was only natural that his name be added to my fevered pleas for happiness and safety.
I gave up on asking for anything for myself. Seemed greedy, when I had two small people depending on me, who needed me to take care for them to the best of my ability. I never resented the fact that I’ve had to sacrifice most of my own dreams along the way. I’ll forever keep on using up every scrap of chance, luck, and fate that comes my way on my children, too, but…tonight, I make a rare exception. I allow myself one wish, purely for me and no one else.
God, I hope everything goes well tonight.
The house is eerily quiet as I collect the keys to the new car from the mail stand. I hover by the front door, my palm resting on the cold, smooth metal of the handle, listening for a second to the roaring silence.
A year ago, my kids were bickering with one another, the television was baring, my wife was hollering at anyone who’d listen, trying to find something she’d misplaced, and everything felt so alive. Now, the cavernous old house feels abandoned. So weird. It feels as though I’m a stranger here now. A ghost, haunting empty, forgotten rooms.
Outside, the evening’s balmy, dusk just setting in. My favorite thing about summer: the fact that it doesn’t get dark until eight in the evening. A light, playful breeze tugs at my jacket as I jump in the car and tap my destination’s address into the onboard GPS. During the twelve-minute drive across town, my mind races out of control as I consider all of the things that could go wrong once I arrive.
By the time I pull up to the curb outside the small, neat little cottage set back from the road, I’ve almost talked myself into calling the whole thing off and driving back home again with my tail between my legs.
“Jesus, Dad. Don’t be such a coward. I thought us Parisis were made of sterner stuff?”
The voice in my head—Silver’s voice—might be a figment of my imagination, but that’s exactly what my daughter would say to me now, if she were sitting next to me in the passenger seat. She’d roll her eyes, laughing at my discomfort, and then she’d find a way to bribe me into hauling my ass out of the car and up the flower-lined pathway that leads to the cottage’s red front door. Silver would never let something so irrelevant as nerves prevent her from taking a step into the unknown. She proved that well enough when she packed up her room and moved across the country to Dartmouth with the guy she promised to marry. Kid always has beenfarbraver than me.
Steeling myself, I glance down at my phone, checking the screen for the fifteenth time since I left the house. No cancellation texts have come through. No apologetic messages, asking for a rain check. Looks like this is all still a go…
Come on, you stupid bastard. You got this. You’re handsome. You’re funny. Your beard looks fuckingamazing. Get out of the damn car or I’m gonna kick your ass.
As pep talks go, this one’s pretty bad. The promise of a beating’s obviously an empty threat, since I’m not a fan of pain and I’m hardly going to thrash my own backside, but it does light a persistent albeit small fire underneath me. Next thing I know, I’m grabbing the flowers I bought at the boutique florists on the high street from the seat next to me, and I’m getting out of the car and slamming the car door closed behind me.
One foot in front of the other, Cam. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right. Nice work. You’re not nervous at all. You’re confident. You’re a fucking catch. You’re successful. You’ve got money. You’ve got all your own teeth… Oh, that’s just great. Awesome. Well done. You’ve got all your own teeth. Like she’d go out with a guy who was missing—
I’m halfway up the path, berating myself for being weird, when the front door opens and a man steps out into the fading, honeyed light. Our eyes make contact, and I nearly drop the bouquet of flowers onto the ground.
“Al—” I catch myself before I can finish his name. It isn’t Alex. This man’s older, with deep frown lines and a tired, sickly look to him that makes me think he drinks too much. A broad smile forms on his face, altering his features entirely so that he looks nothing at all like my future son-in-law in less than the blink of an eye.
“Yeah, we share a passing resemblance, huh?” the guy says. So this must be Giacomo. Has to be. There’s no other reasonable explanation for how similar he and Alex look. Their dark hair and their dark eyes are so alike it’s uncanny. The way he holds himself, like he’s ready and prepared to throw a punch at the slightest provocation, has Alex written all over it. But there’s something fundamentally different about this man. There’s an edge to him that I don’t like. I can’t put my finger on it…
“You always early for a date, man?” Alex father asks, as he slaps together a pair of leather gloves. He puts them on, frowning at me like he can’t quite figure out what to make of me. “You ask me, looks a little too keen. S’posed to make ’em sweat a little, y’know.”
Rocking back on my heels, I take a look around the front yard—the small yet well-manicured lawn; the rose buses underneath the cottage window; the little yellow windmill, nestled in amongst the ranunculus and the pretty wild daisies—and I run my tongue over my teeth. “This might come as a shock to you, Giacomo…but people aren’t toys. You’re not supposed to play games with them or try to manipulate them. Life’s far less complicated if you’re straight up with people. I’ve found that being honest…beingyourself…it gets you way further than if you’re constantly striving for control and power over others.”
Giacomo huffs down his nose, flaring his nostrils. He doesn’t seem to like or agree with the statement I’ve just made. He squints off to the right, where a huge cruiser is parked against the curb fifty feet down the road.Hisbike, I presume. “Kids made it safe to New Hampshire, I heard,” he says stiffly. “Personally, I can’t see the attraction. Tying themselves to a stuffy institution like that for four years. Spending all that money on an education that’ll end up being no good to ’em. Shoulda gone traveling or something. Gotten some real-life experience.”
“Oh, yeah? The foster care system? Getting shot? Raped? Arrested? Nearly killed a couple of times a piece? I think both our children have had enough life experience already, don’t you? Dartmouth’s exactly what they need right now. It’ll be good for them. They’re both too smart…brilliant, actually…to be wasting their intellect riding around the country on a motorcycle, waiting for trouble to track them down and destroy their lives all over again.” I can’t get this bitter, acidic taste out of my mouth. It seems to grow worse whenever Giacomo speaks. This is the man who abandoned Alex and Ben when they needed him. He’s the piece of shit who abused Alex’s mother, and left her high and dry in her darkest hours. Looking at him now, I’m surprised to realize that I don’t just want to hit the bastard. I want toreallyhurt him.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “I’d have thought you’d be long gone by now. Monty’s dead. The Dreadnaughts have been disbanded. Alex is gone. There’s nothing to keep you in Raleigh anymore.”
Giacomo wags a finger at me, a fake smile plastered all over his face. “You…you don’t like me much, do you, Cameron?”
“I’d be lying if I said I did.”
“Everyone’s so quick to judge, aren’t they? Oh, Giacomo’s the bad guy. Giacomo’s a piece of shit. Giacomo doesn’t deserve to breathe the same fresh air as the rest of us Raleigh well-to-do’s. Well, I…am officiallyhurt, Cam. Us about to become family and all. Does this mean you won’t be setting a spot at the table for me when my son and your precious little firecracker come home for Christmas?”
