Page 228 of Falling for You
I raise myself up on my elbow and lean my throbbing head against my hand.
‘I’ve booked flights for tomorrow,’ I say. ‘For me and Stevie.’
‘And?’
I pause.
‘And what?’ I say.
‘And you’re coming back to live in New York, like your dad has just told me?’ Her face is scrunched up in annoyance.
‘Linda,’ I hear Dad’s voice somewhere in the background, ‘he wants to come back home.’
I sigh. ‘Yeah. I thought you’d be pleased,’ I add, sounding like a petulant child.
‘Well, I’m not!’
‘Thanks.’
‘You’ve been there five minutes, why are you coming home?’
How about, because the further away I go, the worse you seem to get? Because I’m terrified that I’m running away from you to live out my dreams like the selfish asshole that I am? Because I’m heartbroken and sad and, yeah, life here isn’t like the movies we spent years watching, because guess what? Life isn’t a movie.
But I don’t say any of that. She wouldn’t understand, and I could never bring myself to tell Mom that one of the reasons I want to come home is because of her. It would be too cruel.
‘Because I want to,’ I say eventually. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll send Dad over our flight details. See you soon.’ I hang up before I give her the chance to reply and throw my phone onto the floor. And then I fall back to sleep.
I wake up a few hours later from a loud banging on the flat door. My first thought is how the hell did Stevie ever survive without me if he can’t remember his goddam keys. My head is still throbbing as I haul myself off the sofa, andI vow to chug a gallon of water as soon as I let Stevie in. I tug the door open, rubbing my head, and am about to immediately turn back and throw myself back on the sofa when I take in the small, glamorous woman stood in front of me.
‘Aunt Tell?’ I manage. ‘What are you …’
‘Can I come in?’ She walks past me before I have a chance to answer and I wince at the state of the flat. There are old beer cans and plates stacked up on the coffee table, and a stench of sweat and stale alcohol that I only notice as Aunt Tell walks in.
‘Sorry,’ I say quickly, rushing to open a window, ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone.’
‘Remy said you’d be in,’ she says, perching dubiously on the sofa. ‘I thought I’d pop by.’
‘Would you like a coffee?’
‘He said that you were going back to New York.’
I’ll take that as a no. I lean against the windowsill. ‘I want to be with Mom.’
She purses her lips, looking around the room. The back of my eyes starts to throb as we sink back into silence.
‘Look,’ I say. ‘Now isn’t a great time. I—’
‘I spoke to your mom.’
She keeps her eyes fixed on her handbag, which she’s been idly fiddling with since she arrived.
‘Oh?’
‘We spoke on the phone,’ Aunt Tell continues. ‘It was nice. She’s exactly as she’s always been.’
I shift my body weight. ‘You caught her on a good day.’
‘We had a good laugh together.’
