Page 20 of Lilies in Autumn

Serena scoffs. “Well, after my mom found out that my dad wasn’t going over to ‘fix the plumbing issues’ in their house, she filed for divorce. Around the same time, Marina’s dad moved back to Italy, where he’s originally from, to be closer to his parents. From what I know, he stopped paying alimony and child support as soon as he moved and hasn’t seen her since. I guess, to her, my dad is her dad now. She’s territorial over him, especially because she lived with him full-time in the house I grew up in, in my old bedroom, no less. Mom and I moved to a different school district so that I wouldn’t have to see her every day before they transferred me up to the high school.”

“Wait, wait, wait. She took your old bedroom?” CeCe looks at me in horror. “Did she want to be you?”

Serena’s quiet, sad laugh succeeds in breaking my heart just a little bit more. “I think she wanted to erase me. I was a daddy’s girl before the divorce and so was she.” She shrugs as if that explains it. “One of us couldn’t be the center of his attention anymore, and I was too angry at him to fight her for it. Besides, when I moved, they began testing my IQ pretty rigorously, and I didn’t have time for family, friends, or distractions. My mom tried to get me involved socially, but the coursework was just too heavy, and I was too depressed to interact with kids my age after school.”

Holy shit. What kind of parent not only cheats on his wife with her college friend but then moves her daughter into his daughter’s old room? It’s like a soap opera, and not the good kind. If I ever needed evidence that men think with their dicks first and brains later, this is it.

I look at Serena, taking stock of her kind eyes and sad smile. This eighteen-year-old girl has been through so much heartache and has done so friendless and alone. I don’t know her dad, but I hate him for what he did to her and her mom. Maybe that was overly dramatic, but when I envision myself in her position, my dad leaving for another woman and replacing us overnight, I feel physically ill.

“So, how does Devin factor into this?” I question. That night, he mentioned that he was connected to both Serena and Marina before pressuring her to leave.

“Hmm,” she hums softly. “That’s the worst part of this entire thing. Not that I lost my dad, because I think I’ve hated him since he cheated on my mom. That resentment was abrupt and all-encompassing. Devin? That was different.” Serena’s head tilts back, her eyes searching the ceiling for answers. “Just like Marina, I had to go to my dad’s each weekend—it was an order of the court. There’s an old, solid oak tree on my dad’s property that borders Devin’s house. When I was little, my dad had a tree house built for me. I used to sneak out there, read, and just escape from all the turmoil in my life. Devin used to check up on me.” She smiles fondly, seemingly at a memory. “He used to bring me English tea biscuits because he knew they were my favorite. He’d bring me his mom’s old Nancy Drew books because he knew how much I wanted an adventure of my own.” A laugh escapes her before her face transforms into a scowl. Leaning forward, she puts her elbows on the table, lowering her voice to a near-whisper. “Like I said, I always loved Devin, and it’s no secret, he’s well aware of my past infatuation. He’s a couple of years older than me, but he would tell me all of his secrets, and confide in me. He was… sweet. I fell in love with him quickly, like lightning hitting sand during a summer storm. He was—”

“What are you ladies having?” We all startle, looking toward the waitress at the end of our table. Serena places her order: French toast with bananas and strawberries. CeCe immediately shouts for the same while I settle for an egg white veggie omelet with a fruit cup on the side. The waitress takes our menus and flits to her next table. The waitress—whose name tag reads Fiona—had impeccable timing in the sense that she interrupted just as it was getting good. I look back to Serena, waiting for her to continue. From my peripheral, I see that CeCe is doing the same.

“As I was saying…” Serena pauses to sip her coffee. “He was just everything to me. The older we got though, the less I came over to my dad’s house. I was busy with high school by the time I was twelve and shuffled from one academic after-school program to another. Soon, my weekly visits transitioned to monthly visits and then it became sporadic. Sometimes, I would go six weeks without going over there. As my visits became more infrequent, Marina and Devin got closer. They started dating a year or so ago.”

“Okay,” I hedge. “But that still doesn’t explain why he was so pissed you were there on Thursday.” He was aggressive in his words and movements, intent on hurting Serena as much as possible. It was obvious that there was a deeper issue than the one she laid out to us moments ago.

“I made a promise a long time ago and couldn’t deliver on it when he came to me.”

I roll my eyes. “Promises made as a child can’t always be honored.”

“Serena,” CeCe says her name softly, as though she’s afraid of scaring her off, unlike me, who wants to pound her father, stepmother, stepsister, and former neighbor with my dad’s golf clubs. “Whatever promise you broke, you need to remember you went through something traumatic at the same time. From what you said, it doesn’t seem like he was there for you all the time, either.”

I nod in agreement but keep my mouth shut. Telling her that I’ll get my dad’s Callaway five iron and drive to their house in a rental car probably won’t do much good. If she gives me a sign that retribution is on the table, I’ll be sure to speak up.

“Allow yourself to move on from this. Don’t listen to him if he tries to pressure you into leaving again. You have every right to a happy life; he doesn’t get to control that.” CeCe may be dramatic, but it’s times like this when I’m grateful for her compassion. Where I’m a swing first, think later type of person, CeCe empathizes and looks at a situation from every available angle, even if her first response is aggression. Her support of Serena mimics my thoughts, but her way of expressing herself is more mature and well-thought-out.

“Yeah, what she said,” I echo.

We fall into comfortable conversation. Serena tells us about STD’s poetry reading event the previous night while I recount how our parents drove up and forced us to dinner because they already miss us at home. When our food arrives, CeCe is in the middle of telling Serena about the mud and leaves caked to my body by the end of the party. Serena’s snort of laughter convinces me that her spirits are lifted from the black cloud that encapsulated them since Thursday night.

“Oh my God, you fell off of Greyson Jansen? That is the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”

His last name is Jansen? Jesus, my grandmother would be so disappointed that I’m this interested in a non-Italian. Maybe he’s Italian on his mother’s side?

“I didn’t know his last name, but if Greyson Jansen is a cross between a Viking and a motorcycle outlaw, then yes, I fell off his lap, into the mud, and then ran away after calling him a serial killer.”

CeCe continues eating her breakfast; she’s heard this before, but Serena stares at me with a slack jaw and wide eyes. In the few times I’ve interacted with Serena, she didn’t seem easily shocked. Based on her expression, I assume this is a big deal.

“Serena, why are you looking at me like that?” It’s unnerving, like her face is frozen in place. I have the overwhelming urge to close her mouth but keep my hands on my fork and knife. After minutes of silently staring at me, she finally snaps out of her trance.

“I’m sorry, but Greyson doesn’t show interest in anyone. He’s never lacked admirers and doesn’t have to make any effort in getting a girl into bed. If anything, he must push them out.”

I bristle; it sounds like she knows him well, or maybe his reputation precedes him. I can’t help but ask how she knows this about him.

“Well, he is pretty well-known on campus. His dad is Greg Jansen, the baseball player turned sportscaster. His whole family is loaded and famous. We also have a mutual friend.” A blush forms on her face. I raise my brow, surprised to hear about a shared friend, but even more shocked that Greyson is related to one of the most famous sports figures of our generation. I glance at CeCe. From her facial expression, it seems like she’s just as surprised. “No shit?” I begin. “Wait, who’s your mutual friend? Was it one of the guys he came with last night?”

Serena shrugs. “I’m not sure who he came with. His name is Dylan. We grew up together, too. He’s Devin’s less douchey friend. I didn’t see Dyl there, but I’ll text him later to see if he showed up.” She looks away in consideration. “I think Greyson probably came with his roommates, Dante and Lincoln. They tend to travel together like a pack of wolves.”

“Fucking Dante,” CeCe mutters into her French toast.

I’m not surprised that Greyson attracts women without much effort; not only is he the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, but he’s wealthy, well-connected, and has a famous family. I remember watching a documentary on Netflix about Greg Jansen’s baseball career. His father, Greyson’s grandfather, was a sought-out hedge fund manager that made billions for his clients while his brother, Greyson’s uncle, is a prominent movie director. I vaguely remember the reference to a wife and son, but it didn’t show their pictures or mention their names.

If I thought Greyson was out of my league before, now it’s confirmed. There’s no way in hell he’s interested in me when he has access to models, movie stars, and beautiful women from all around the world. My self-loathing sinks in just a little bit deeper, grasping my heart and squeezing painfully. I may have interacted with him only briefly, but the fantasy of what could have been, in a world where girls like me dated guys like him, filtered into my thoughts frequently.

He’ll just continue being the fictional giver of my stolen, self-induced orgasms. Under the covers, where no one can see me touch myself, I’ll pretend it’s his hand until someone more realistic can erase those dreams.

---