Page 98 of The Vacation Mix-Up
We continue walking until I can no longer bear the dreadful silence. “Uh, I’m just going to go back to the room for a little bit and do some work, so I’ll… I’ll see you later.”
“No sweat.”
Nodding, I peel away from him, tears threatening to fill my eyes. I should go to the stupid spa and use my stupid voucher on a stupid facial, or maybe on something to help my tear ducts dry the hell up. Acupuncture, perhaps.God knows I need something, anything. Ever since Mom passed away, I’ve been drowning, my emotional control a delicate thread. Gossamer in the wind. The ability I once had to keep myself grounded and focused has vanished, and that’s an awful feeling, especially for someone who’s always had her sensibility in check. It is despair in full throttle. You know the crash is imminent, yet you have no way to apply the brakes to prevent the collision. So, you crash. You crash and surrender to the helplessness and pain.
I consider going to the spa for some form of remedy, but all Ireally want to do is speak to Mom, to tell her what happened, how it made me feel, and to ask for her advice. She was always good at that.
Rushing to the cabin, I enter and beeline for the safe, carefully cradling the urn as I take it out and hug it to my chest.
“Hey, Momma. How are you?”
I feel absurd every time I talk to her, knowing she can’t answer, but I do it all the same. Albeit nonsensical, absurdity far outweighs not talking to her at all. It’s all I have left. The only piece of her I can cling to.
“I kissed Riley,” I explain. “Or he kissed me. Or—” I slump onto my bed and scrub my face with my hand. “I don’t know who kissed who, but we kissed, and it was incredible.” Sighing, I roll onto my side and prop my head up with my hand. “But I think he hated it. He’s getting a divorce, and us kissing probably messed with his head. Either that or I kiss like an overexuberant donkey.” Mortification once again swirls through my veins, and I slap my hand to my head. “Ugh! Mom, I feel like such an idiot. What am I going to do?”
“Who are you talking to?” Riley asks from behind, startling the heck out of me.
Rolling like a tumbleweed, I hide the urn behind my back and scramble to my feet. “What are you doing here? I-I… didn’t hear you come in?”
He takes a step closer. “Who are you talking to?”
“No one.” Blood rushes to my face, and I panic. “Haven’t you heard of knocking? Get out!”
He narrows his eyes and tries to look past me, to what I desperately don’t want him to see. “What’s behind your back?”
“Nothing!”
His voice softens. “Riles…?”
“It’s…” I edge away from him, the overwhelming pain in my chest tearing open as I choke back a sob. “It’s nothing.”
“You said Mom.”
The room tilts, and I’m not sure if it’s from aswell or my buckling legs. I stumble, heat surging to my head, as everything around me spins.
Riley reaches out, his strong hands steadying me before I fall, his eyes kind but concerned. “You can talk to me, Riles.”
“I—” A sob rips past my throat, tears blurring my vision as I present the urn from behind my back. “I was talking to my mom. She died six weeks ago.”
He stares at the pot, then at me, and just when I think he’s going to call me crazy and flee the room, he pulls me into his arms, rubbing my back soothingly as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
Shocked, I pull back and wipe my face with my sleeve. “Why would you? I’ve been hiding her in the safe.”
His eyes close momentarily. “That’s why you didn’t want me to have the code?”
“Yes. I can’t trust you with her. You lost my bathing suit. You might lose her too.”
Pain etches his face as he gently presses the pads of his thumbs under my eyes. “I won’t use the safe. I promise. I won’t go near her.”
Nodding, I sniffle and take a seat on the edge of my bed.
“Are you okay?” he asks, sitting beside me.
“No. Not really.”
He hugs me to his side, and I don’t fight his comforting embrace. Comfort isn’t something I’ve felt since Mom’s death.
“What happened?” he asks, but then adds, “You don’t have to tell me, of course. But speaking from experience, believe it or not, talking helps.”
