The hopefulness that was bubbling through me deflates. “We’re leaving anyway, might as well let me spend the little time I have left with them before I never see them again. Plus, it’s a completely random town, Tony won’t know I’m there.”
&nb
sp; She sighs and grows serious, setting her wine glass down. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation this morning. I really am trying my best here, Amelia. I know it must be hard for you to go through all of this, and I know that I’m hard on you. I want you to live your life but I just want you to be safe …” She trails off, thinking, and I don’t dare breathe. “You’ll need to check in every morning and night.”
“Ahh!” I squeal, not really believing that she’s agreeing. I wasn’t even completely sure that I wouldn’t have to sneak off.
“And you still have to be responsible. No getting drunk and posting on social media,” she continues, a small smile growing on her face.
I nod vigorously. “Yes, yes. Same rules, etcetera, etcetera. Thanks, Mom!”
I wrap my arms around her, and for the first time in what feels like forever, feel like our relationship isn’t past saving, that she really truly does want me to be happy, and is willing to compromise so that I don’t feel like I’m living out a jail sentence. For the first time in a long time, I feel like my mom gets it.
9
On Monday morning I wake up pretty early, excited about our trip. I do a quick workout then text Aiden, asking if he and the twins want to come by a bit earlier for pancakes. After I shower and get dressed, I smile at Aiden’s reply.
Trying to buy the twins’ happiness through fluffy, sugar-loaded clouds of joy? I always knew you were smart. Be there in 15
Just as I finish mixing the batter, the loud purr of an engine alerts me to Aiden’s arrival. Smiling, I rush to let them in before anyone rings the doorbell and wakes up my mom.
There are two adorable, mini-Aidens standing on my porch. They have some telling features that mark them apart, but I have difficulty remembering which features belong to which child. The difference between them and Aiden is striking. They’re so young and carefree, whereas you can tell that Aiden’s been forced to grow up, and has carried more than one type of burden for too long.
“Boys, where are your manners?” Aiden scolds them as he walks in and catches them throwing their shoes and jackets on the floor.
I close the door behind Aiden and tell the boys it’s okay, watching their faces turn bright red in the most adorable way.
Aiden wraps his arms around me and gives me a quick, chaste kiss that still manages to fry my brain and leave me smiling at him like an airhead.
“Ewwww!” The twins grimace at the same time.
Aiden chuckles and lets go of me. “Come on, boys. Go wash your hands so we can have breakfast.”
I point out the bathroom and as they walk away, the boy I now undoubtedly know is Jason mumbles to his brother, “Well, now we know why Aiden’s in such a good mood all the time.” I muffle a laugh but Aiden just smiles unabashedly.
After breakfast, Aiden grabs my giant, slightly overstuffed duffel bag from upstairs and shoves it in the trunk of the Challenger. I make coffee for my mom as a piece offering for when she wakes up, and we jump in the car, heading to the designated meeting spot.
We pull into Noah’s driveway, the first ones there. Charlotte opens the door for us, red faced and clearly embarrassed. I wonder what’s wrong with her. She closes the door behind us and as we walk in, I discover why she looked like that. She met Noah’s mom, Judy Adams.
“Noah, really. I’m just trying to help!” a motherly voice exclaims from the kitchen.
The three of us sit on the couch in the living room where we see Chase, who’s desperately trying not to laugh.
“Mom! You can’t just do that!” Noah argues, clearly annoyed.
“What’s going on?” I whisper to Charlotte when Noah’s agitated voice answers the question for me.
“You can’t just barge in my room and throw, like, a dozen different boxes of condoms at me!”
I slap my hands over my mouth so that a surprised laugh doesn’t escape. What did we just walk into?
“STDs are a thing, Noah! You’re going on vacation with your friends, you need to be safe,” Judy explains, and I’m so glad we got here in time for the entertainment.
“God, Mom! What is your deal? You’re so embarrassing!” Noah groans.
“I’m not ignorant, Noah. I know what goes on—”
“Jesus, Mom!” He cuts her off. “I don’t need my mommy buying me condoms! And eight boxes? Really? I’m going away for twelve days.”