Page 93 of Holding On

"I don't want to get into it, okay?"

We get in the van and as he's pulling out of the parking lot, Mike says, "So you and Ethan had a fight. That's why you came home yesterday afternoon."

"It wasn't a fight. And I don't want to talk about it so change the subject."

"Becca, you don't need this."

"Need what?"

"This back and forth shit where you like each other and then you don't. You just started dating. You shouldn't be fighting already."

"We weren't fighting. He was just in a bad mood yesterday."

"And he was taking it out on you."

"That's not what I said."

"You don't have to. I know that's why you left. It doesn't take a genius to figure this out, Becca. It's like I said, the guy is nothing but drama. His life. The people around him. You don't need that shit."

Mike's really starting to piss me off. What I do with Ethan is none of his business. I'm not a kid. And I'm not letting my brother tell me who I can and can't date.

"And how about you and Tricia?" I say, anger in my voice. "If you want to talk about unhealthy relationships, then let's talk about you and Tricia."

"It's not the same," he says, his jaw tightening.

"Oh really? And why is that? Because you two hid your feelings and never talked about stuff? Does that make you two better than Ethan and me? Maybe if you and Tricia had actually fought once in a while and got your anger out, she wouldn't have just left like that."

He stops at the intersection and looks at me. "Are you really gonna go there?"

I hear the hurt in his voice. I shouldn't have said that. He's spent God knows how many hours analyzing what went wrong in his relationship with Tricia. The last thing he needs is for me to pile on more guilt and even hint at the fact that he was partially to blame. It wasn't his fault she left. Tricia's just selfish and didn't want to stick around to help Mike recover.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that." I turn toward him as he drives down the street. "It wasn't your fault, Mike. There was nothing you could do or say to make her stay."

"Let's not talk about it."

We're quiet the rest of the ride there. When we reach the hotel, I see a shiny, black Lexus with Illinois plates parked in the valet area.

"I bet that's Jim's car," I say. "I'm assuming he's rich. She wouldn't date him if he wasn't."

"She said he works in finance. Manages retirement accounts."

"What else do you know about him?"

"He's divorced. Has two sons. I think they're both in college."

"Great. So if they get married we'll have new siblings."

"It's not like we'll have to interact with them."

"I know, but still. It's weird."

We walk up to the hotel entrance and go inside. The restaurant is off to the left. I spot Mom right away, sitting at a table sipping a Bloody Mary, a gray-haired man in a suit seated next to her.

"Over there," I say to Mike, pointing at Mom.

I'm already feeling sick seeing my mom. Maybe it's mean to say that but I really just want her out of my life. Seeing her just reminds me how much it hurt when she left. I wish she'd just leave Mike and me alone and stop showing up like this.

She gets up as we approach.

---