Page 65 of One-Star Romance

“It’s been a couple of times now. Your mother usually comes and takes him home, talks him down.”

And with that, Rob did understand, fully and irrevocably, what he’d been convincing himself not to see for over a year now. The moments of confusion that his father had covered with bombast, the way he missed details of Rob’s life, it went beyond normal aging. His father was a lion, a star, the man who sucked up all the oxygen in the room. Rob had found it so much easier to believe that he was becoming more of an asshole rather than less of himself.

“Hello?” Bill asked.

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry,” Rob said.

“I’ve tried to convince him to go back inside, but I don’t think he’s pleased with me.”

“Right. Um. Let me try to call my mother. I’m sure she’s close by.”

“Gotcha,” Bill said. “I’ll keep an eye on him in the meantime.”

“Thank you.”

Rob hung up and dialed his mother’s number, waited as it rang to voicemail, then dialed again, over and over. No answer. He sent her a text. Where are you? Dad’s in trouble.

Nothing. He tried his father, but no answer on his phone either. Rob stood there, resting his head against the wall, a sick sensation in his stomach. Where was his mom? And what the hell had she been thinking, hiding this? A nagging ache in his head told him that he had made it easy for her, in the way he’d found it increasingly unpleasant to talk to his dad, hurrying off the phone when he could, throwing himself into wedding planning and letting weeks go by without contact.

Then he pulled himself upright and snapped into action, stepping back out into the party, powering through the guests toward the front door as he wrote Bill a text: Not sure where my mother is but I’m on my way. There in 50. Someone followed him outside into the crisp night air. Natalie.

“Are you abandoning ship?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun—” Her words cut off at the devastation on his face.

“What happened?” she asked in a low voice. “Are you okay?”

“I have to go. My father needs help.” He headed toward his rental car, pulling the keys out of his pocket. In his haste, the key ring fell onto the ground.

Natalie stepped forward and scooped the keys up before he could get to them. “You are not allowed to drive right now. Ten minutes ago, you were nearly weeping over an inflatable Santa.”

“I was not,” he grumbled. She shot him a disbelieving look, and he knew she was right, no matter how sober he felt at the moment. “Fine. I’ll see what the taxi situation is.” He reached in his pocket for his phone, scanning the various apps for available cars. They were all at least twenty minutes away, and the cost would be astronomical. But better than nothing.

Natalie was still standing there, shooting a look back at the party, shifting from side to side. She let out a sigh and muttered something like Fuck it under her breath. Then she pressed the unlock button on his keys and headed toward the rental car.

“Well, come on,” she said.

25

The forty-minute car ride was a mostly silent one, Rob’s face turned toward the window, Natalie keeping to the speed limit, putting her Los Angeles driving training to good use.

She could tell herself a lot of stories about why she was here with Rob right now. She was trying to be a good citizen of the world. Rob had been kind enough to her a couple of times, so this was a quid pro quo. Alternatively, Rob had been a real dick to her a couple of times, and she was showing him how far above it all she was. Still, she clenched the steering wheel tight, anxiety thrumming in her over the feeling that she was transporting precious cargo.

When they were a few minutes away from their destination, Rob’s phone rang, and he snapped out of his catatonia to answer faster than Natalie had ever seen him move. “Mom? Where are you? Are you okay?”

Natalie could hear a woman’s voice, low and panicked, on the other end of the line. “New York? What are you doing there?” Rob asked. Another pause from Rob as his mother spoke. “Right.” His voice was bitter. “Well, Dad’s wandering around in the cold.” He shook his head. “How could you leave him? How could you not tell me—” He cut himself off with a glance at Natalie, suddenly brusque. “Never mind. I’ll be there soon, and we’ll talk when you get home.”

He hung up and dropped the phone into his lap. After a moment of dazed silence, he said, “She decided to go see a show. Didn’t check her phone until intermission.”

“And your dad is…?” Natalie began, turning on to Rob’s street.

He leaned toward her and spoke urgently. “It’s dementia, I think. I don’t know what he’ll be like. I only just realized that he even…Well, I’ve thought maybe, a few times, but I’d written it off, and my mom didn’t tell me anything.” He took a deep breath. “This isn’t important to you. Sorry. You can wait in the car if you want. Or go back to the party. I don’t want to ruin your night.”

He seemed so at loose ends, so unlike his usual self, that she couldn’t help herself. She placed a hand gently on top of his. “I’ll stay. I’m here for whatever you need.”

He blinked quickly, his eyes shining in the dim light, and she realized that she needed to pay more attention to the final stretch of road.

As she turned into the driveway and parked the car, they spotted Rob’s father, agitated and pacing on the front porch, his breath making puffs of white in the chilly evening. An imposing man, wearing a blazer as if on his way to teach a course. He must have been freezing. Had he locked himself out, or was he staying in the cold out of stubbornness?

Rob peeled out of the car, taking the porch steps two at a time with his long legs as Natalie followed.

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