Page 137 of Sweet Caroline
“You sure?”
“Listen, between you and me,” he says, “he’s had a hell of a month. Doing a bit better lately but, let’s just say, it’d do him some good to see you again.” Gus leans back against the counter and folds his arms over his chest, watching me with something glittering in his eyes. Then his expression turns more serious. “Unless… Would that whole situation with your dad be a problem? Or do you think we could steal you for one night?”
“No,” I blurt out. “That’s not— I mean… that won’t be an issue.” I don’t go into details, not trusting my composure yet on the subject. Processing my father’s toxicity in therapy has been an emotional ride—and one I’d rather not get on at this moment.
“Alright, then you have to come.” Gus pauses, probably watching the cracks form in my resolve in real time. “I can double-check with Miles if it’d make you feel more comfortable.”
I bite my lip, anxiety already swirling inside me about seeing Miles again. “Um, yeah, okay? As long as he’s alright with it.”
“Nice! I’ll text you the details.” He turns to snag his phone from the counter behind him. “Supposed to be cold this weekend, so dress warm.” He stops whatever tapping and swiping he’s doing on the screen and looks up with a smirk as he hands me hisphone to get my number. “You ever been up on Westview Crescent in December?”
I frown as I take it from him. “Don’t think so? Why?”
He sticks his tongue in his cheek, clearly trying to fight off a grin.
“Specifically in December?” I ask, confused. When I finish typing in my number, I pass the phone back to him.
He winks. “We’ll keep it as a fun surprise.”
30
MILES
“Where should I stand, like, up here? Or—?” I take another step up onto Gus’ small gazebo—theGuszebo, I call it, ’cause I’m an absolute cheeseball. “Nah, that’s too high. Feels weird, like I’m Lord Farquaad or something.” I move back down a step.
Gus shoves a mini doughnut in his mouth as he kills the music from the small speaker on the back porch, then gestures for me to go ahead. “Alright,” he mumbles around his bite, “let’s hear your little speech, Lord Fuckwad.”
“Okay, whoa.” I clutch my chest. “Didn’t realize there’d be hecklers at my own party, but alright, alright.”
Gus gives me a shit-eating grin as he jogs down the porch steps, then spins one of the camping chairs around to face me. He sinks down with his back to the fire, uncapping his thermos of hot chocolate.
Strings of golden lights are draped all around Gus’ yard and the gazebo, making it look pretty damn magical back here—and helping me see my audience, who are otherwise backlitby the bonfire.
“Gotta hand it to you guys,” I say, nodding to Jude and Olena, who’ve snuggled up close in a double-wide camping chair, a thick blanket spread across their laps. “This is pretty dope.” I can’t help but check over my brother’s shoulder one last time, toward the back gate.
She’s still not here.
It’s been nine excruciating days since I held her in the ER. Despite being desperate to see Caroline again, I’ve held off on reaching out, figuring she was stressed and busy with George. When Gus told me she’d come by the station a couple days ago, my palms started sweating instantly. And, when he asked if it was cool for her to come tonight, I thought I might throw up. In the best way.
Digging out my speech from my coat pocket, I decide to just go for it. No sense in waiting any longer. Maybe something came up. Or maybe she decided not to come. That second possibility stabs me in the gut.
“I did have a few things I wanted to say.” I take a steadying breath as I unfold the paper, orienting myself, and angle it so I can read in the dim golden light.
“You got this!” Olena calls out.
The reassurance is sweet, but I’m actually pretty good at talking in front of people. The nerves I’m feeling have less to do with the three sets of eyes on me and more to do with the absence of Caroline’s. I glance at the empty camping chair beside Olena and clear my throat.
“In AA,” I start, “the first step is admitting you have a problem. Doing this took me a while. Well, way longer than it should’ve, anyway. Y’know, no one loves having to admit they’ve lost control and need help. But I’ve been working hard this past year on being honest. With myself, and with the people I love.” I flick my gaze to Jude, knowing I owe him a lifetime of honesty and then some for what I’ve put him through.
He ducks his head slightly and Olena slips her arm around his.
It’s then that the gate finally clicks open.
For a moment, my stomach feels suspended in midair, like when you’re going up in an elevator and it overshoots slightly before settling to a stop—like simply seeing Caroline again has fucked with some fundamental law of gravity.
“Hey,” I say. The word is an exhale and her responding smile is all the oxygen I could ever need.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late,” she says, then quickly skirts the fire to find a seat. “And, shoot, for interrupting.” Even in the darkness, with the light of the fire flickering over her apologetic features as she settles into the chair next to Olena, her presence alone lowers the volume on the sharp static in my head.
