“We parents do like to fuss,” she agreed, nodding. “So, what are you up to? I can hear those gears turning from over here,” she said, leaning back against her car.
“I am about to do something that is, objectively, supremely stupid and maybe a little bit vengeful,” I admitted.
“Well, that sounds like a lot of fun,” Lo said, making a laugh escape me, reminding me why I loved her so much.
I mean, I guess when you’d run a paramilitary survival camp for most of your adult life, you kind of had a different outlook on life and what is and isn’t fun.
“Right?” I asked, smiling. “Don’t worry. Cash is going to be telling you all about it in the coming days,” I told her.
“Oh, girl,” she said, shaking her head, again seeming to know without me having to say anything.
“You can’t tell me he doesn’t have it coming,” I said.
“No, no, you’re right. He could probably use to get his ass handed to him. I guess I’m just more concerned about your well-being in the whole thing.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten a lot tougher over the years,” I assured her.
It was then that her keen gaze met my eyes, seeking, and seeming to find what she was looking for.
“I can see that,” she said, nodding a bit solemnly. “It never gets easier,” she said, shrugging, “watching all you kids learn about the harsher shit in life. I guess we all want to think that we could shield you from all of it. That’s naive, of course, but it’s what we all hope for.”
“Hey,” I said, moving toward her, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “We’re all doing alright.”
“But are you?” she asked, and it felt like a bigger question than I could ever answer. Because it didn’t feel like it was just about me. It was about all of us.
“Maybe not,” I admitted, shrugging. “But you have to at least put your faith to rest that you gave us all the tools we could possibly need to deal with our shit, right?” I asked.
To that, she let out a small, airy laugh.
“With you, darling, I’m a little worried about just how many tools I’ve given you. Not to mention yourfather,” she said, cringing a bit. “And how you might choose to use those tools. And on whom,” she finished.
“Oh, come on Lo,” I said, turning to leave, walking backward as I added, “a little castration never hurt anyone,” I told her, turning away at the sound of her laughter.
Oddly, I felt better about my decision after talking to Lo. As much as she was kind of hands-off with all “her girls,” she would absolutely say something if she thought we were being completely stupid.
That said, it was no secret that Lo was a complete hopeless romantic. When we were really young, we used to steal her steamy romances that she would leave around the gym and read the totally inappropriate for our ages material.
She loved a love story.
And I could totally see her urging me to go through with my plan because she had some misguided notion that it might end up with Valen and I somehow ending up together.
Which was just about the most ridiculous thing I’d heard in years. Which was saying something because I’d recently been told when staying at a lady’s house that if I put a knife under my pillow, it would stop my bad dreams.
Little did she know, I slept with a knife under my pillow every night.
But, yeah, my plan wasn’t going to end with Valen and I getting back together.
Oh, no.
That was dead.
Dug up by scavengers, eaten to the bone, then re-buried by the sands of time.
It couldn’t be revived.
I just wanted him to pay a little bit.
I wanted him to know that you couldn’t go around being that much of an asshat and not have someone make you suffer for it.
I wanted him to suffer.
Then I wanted to move on with my life.
Finally.
At least, you know, that was theplan.