Page 15 of Every Beautiful Mile

I smile, hopeful.

With his hands held out, frustration fills his voice. “What will I even tell Abby?”

Marin groans and drops her head back. “Oh my God, Finn. Abby?”

Who the hell is Abby?

“I don’t know what you see in her besides her boobs. Which, big deal,” Marin says, rolling her eyes.

I scrunch my nose. “What are we talking about here?”

“My girlfriend? Abby?” He says it like I’m an idiot, but I’m too consumed with the fact my son has a girlfriend that I didn’t know about to care about his shitty attitude.

“Abby…” My voice trails off, wondering what advice I can give about a girlfriend I found out about three seconds ago. “I’m sure she will understand.”

I am actually not sure she will understand because I have no clue who she is.

How long have they been together?

What does she look like?

Is she nice?

Oh. My. God.

Are they having sex?

My stomach drops to where my bare feet meet the cool tile floor beneath me. For the life of me, I cannot remember if Travis talked to him about how to be safe when it came time. The thoughts spiraling inside of me have the force of a hurricane and threaten to wipe me out in the middle of the living room.

Finn points a frustrated hand toward the map. “Marin, you seriously want to do this?”

“A ten-week road trip, and we can go anywhere we want? Are you kidding me? Of course, I do, Finny! This is something people talk about doing when they retire. We are just teenagers, and mom’s paying. It will make us cool and worldly.”

Her vintage skirt floats through the air as she twirls theatrically.

Finn rubs a finger on the bridge of his nose again, squeezing his eyes shut before blowing out a long breath.

“Can’t you go without me? I can stay with Grandpa and Poppy. Or Uncle Gabe!”

The words hit like a wrecking ball. Not only does he not want to go, he wants us to go and him to stay. Ten weeks away from each other? I’m not sure if I want to cry or scream.

The entire island of Key Largo might pity me, but my son does not. If anything, he has taken whatever the opposite sentiment is and then gone a step further.

My jaw clenches. “No.”

I barely recognize the hard edge in my own voice.

Marin sucks in a breath, and there’s turmoil in Finn’s eyes. A thick quiet hangs in the air between us, but I refuse to look away first.

His shoulders sag as he shakes his head, muttering, “If you don’t care if we want to do this or not, why are you even asking?”

I almost choke on the frustrating anger that burns through me.

“Ignore him, Mom. This is going to be great!” Marin says.

Then, like her brother and I aren’t one breath away from triggering the start of World War III, she pokes him in the ribs and makes him chuckle through a groan in a way that defuses the situation just enough.

We stare at the map, and I let out a long exhale.

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