Page 136 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Sniffing again, I’m done smelling like ass, so I shower, get dressed, and check the cruise app for tonight’s events when she enters the room, a tear teetering in her eye.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, striding toward her.
“I did it. I booked Mom’s ceremony.”
I hug her to my chest and press my lips to her head. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” Her shoulders slump.
“And your mom is too. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” she mumbles before leaning back and blinking up at me. “You used my shampoo again, didn’t you?”
My balls withdraw into my stomach.
“Just admit it. I know you did. I can smell it.”
“I didn’t bring any of my own. And the complimentary stuff smells like dish soap.”
“It’s fine. Use what you like. I don’t mind.” She unlocks her hands from behind my back and collapses onto her bed, and my heart breaks a little, no stranger to the battle she’s fighting within.
I take a seat beside her and squeeze her knee, wanting to distract her from her anguished thoughts. “What do you want to do tonight?”
“I don’t know,” she drones. “Get drunk?”
“I thought you weren’t a drinker.”
“I’m not. But if there’s ever a time to give it a shot, I’m guessing now’s that time.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”
“No, not really, but….”
“There’s a good chance you might regret it tomorrow. Just sayin’.”
“Regret will be high on my list tomorrow anyway, so screw it. I’m getting wasted.”
My churning gut tells me this is a bad idea, but I’m no hypocrite. I’ve turned to the bottle a few times as well, especially after Dad died.
Riles sits up like a vampire rising out of its coffin, a bloodthirsty grin on her face. “Let’s go to the casino!”
I wince.
“Don’t give me that look!”
“I’m not.”
“You are!” She scoots off the bed, spins toward me, and holds her hands out. “Please, Riley. I never do anything I’m notsupposedto. Never gamble, never drink until I can drink no more. I’m never late, and I never steal. Hell, I don’t even jaywalk or jump the line at Starbucks. I’m Miss Goody Two-Shoes, and I… I don’t want to be hertonight.Just this once, I want to be someone else. Someone who isn’t about to lay her mother to rest. I want to forget. Pretend. I want it all just to go away for a night.”
Understanding exactly what she’s saying, even though I knowwhat she wants to do won’t magically erase who she is or what she must face when the alcohol wears off, I take her hands in mine. “Then let’s go. Let’s gamble and get shitfaced.”
Riles nods, more to herself than to me. “Give me one second though. I’m just going to tell Mom my plan… and apologize in advance.”
I bite back my amusement—she couldn’t be a rebel if she tried—and pick up my cell, pretending to busy myself as she collects her mother’s urn from the safe, heads outside onto the balcony, and begins her confession. And regardless of what I just said, I have absolutely no intention of getting shitfaced. She’s going to need me to look after her, and I can’t do that with a belly full of liquor and a head clouded in the fumes.
“This one,”Riles says, placing her cocktail down and clapping while taking a seat at the Roulette table. “I’m excited!”
Amused, I sit beside her.
