Page 81 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
When I crawl into bed around ten that night, completely exhausted, Fischer still hasn’t responded, and I tell myself not to worry.
That doesn’t mean I accomplish that, but I try my best, spending the night dreaming that Fischer has decided to cut all ties because I’ve moved far too quickly and scared him away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fischer
October 24
I’m pretty sure Grant isgoing to kill me, but I don’t care. The Greenwood is all ready to go, barring some sort of disaster, and there’s only so much we can do now but wait. So I take Thursday off of work and drive to Santa Fe to see my parents for the first time in I don’t know how long.
As I drive the two hours in silence, I ignore the text on my phone burning a hole in my pocket. She invited me out.With her family. For her, that’s probably not a big deal, but as soon as I read that text, I knew I was faced with a choice that would have devastating consequences.
If I agree, if I go with her tonight, I won’t be able to say goodbye to her. I don’twantto say goodbye, but what can I really offer her? I’m a bitter and jaded man with a barely functional heart and a smile that has to be pried out of me with an emotional crowbar. Micah is adept with a crowbar, but I can’t imagine she can keep up the effort for long. What if I can’t change? What if my darkness overpowers her light and snuffs it out?
I can’t do that to her.
When I pull up outside my parents’ house around nine, I gaze at the walls of the place I grew up and try to remember how growing up felt. I spent a lot of time away from home because it was so cold and unfeeling, but my childhood wasn’t a bad one. My parents were never cruel, nor did they ever fight in front of Grant and me. But the absence of sadness isn’t the same as happiness.
“How are they going to help you?” I ask out loud. It’s the question I’ve been asking myself since I texted Grant about not coming into work and turned my phone off. But my gut told me I needed to talk to my parents, so here I am. Wondering why I’ve decided to listen to my gut now, of all times, when I’ve always been more driven by logic.
“It’s because Micah has you feeling things you’ve never felt before,” I tell myself, unlatching my seatbelt. “And becoming a better man means facing the parts of you that you don’t want to face.”
I can’t bring myself to get out of the car yet. Clearly this is going to be a process.
I haven’t talked to my parents since Miranda stole everything from me, so I have no idea how they might receive me. I think they were proud of what I was building, so they could definitely see the loss as a failure on my part.
I unlock the door and take a deep breath.
They’ve probably followed all of the news stories to make sure I haven’t besmirched their name. Bradley is common enough, and Santa Fe far enough from Sun City, that I hope they haven’t been affected. I would know for sure if I had been brave enough to face them before now.
I push open my door and breathe in the flowery scents in the air from their immaculate garden. I can’t count the different varieties of flowers planted around the house, but I have a feeling none of them would be Micah’s favorite. I still don’t know what the answer is, but I’m glad she appreciated my non-favorite bouquet yesterday. At least, I think she appreciated it.
Finally, I force myself out of the car and onto the gravel that spreads over the driveway, feeling the same trepidation I felt the first time a cop brought me home after I got drunk at a high school party that got raided. I never think about those days of rebellion if I can help it, short-lived as they were. Back then, my life was so sterile that I just wanted to feel something. Grant had already graduated and headed off to Harvard, leaving me to take the full brunt of Mom and Dad’s disapproval for not living up to my potential.
Thank goodness I was only a sophomore and had time to clean up my act—and my grades—so I could get into Columbia and start living a respectable life.
“Look at me now,” I mutter as I begin the trek up to the house that was always far too big for four people.
I wish I could have brought Micah with me. She would have already gotten us inside and had my mom fawning over her. But I need to tackle this hurdle myself, even if it takes me two full minutes to ring the doorbell.
When Mom opens the door, recognition doesn’t set in at first, which makes me feel great. But then her dark eyes pop open wide, and she takes a step back as if to take me in. “Fischer?”
I clench my jaw. “Should I be worried that you have to ask?”
Then she shrieks and throws her arms around my shoulders. It’s so far from what I expected that I tense up, something she definitely notices because she releases me immediately. “Oh, I’m sorry! I know you don’t like…”
My mom just…hugged me. I genuinely don’t remember the last time she did that, if ever. And because today is apparently full of surprises, I scoop her back up and squeeze. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a hug from my mom until I got one, and now I don’t want to let go.
“Fischer,” she says, her voice full of emotion.
My breath shudders into me, and though I could stay in this embrace for hours, I release her and step back right as my father appears in the foyer.
They both look the same, if a bit older than I saw them last. Mom is short and solid, her honey-colored skin sporting a few more wrinkles than before while her dark hair hangs in a thick braid down her back. She’s dressed for work despite working from home, a crisp maroon blouse and black slacks adding to her formidable look. Dad wears a tailored suit, as always, but he has yet to put on a tie. He and Grant look so similar that if it weren’t for the gray spotting his temples, Grant Sr. could pass for Grant Jr. if he tried.
It’s the smiles that are throwing me off. From both of them.
“Uh, I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced on a workday,” I say to Dad. He and Mom work their investment company together, but he’s really the one who runs the show. “But I needed…” How do I even put it into words?
