Page 69 of The Fast Lane
After Mack complained of being tired and needing a nap—I think he was over playing princess—I spent the afternoon with Hallie, who spent her afternoon showing me every single toy, book, dress, and movie she owned. Which was a lot. I think Abe may be leaning into that whole “buy her whatever she wants to keep her happy” parenting style. Not that I could blame him. He’d been given a fully grown four-year-old less than a month ago; he was in survival mode.
After Theo and Abe returned, and we’d feasted on a dinner of pizza, followed by an evening showing of a princess movie with required viewing, we all settled in for the night. Mack took the spare bedroom and that left the living room for Theo and me.
After a fifteen-minute argument (that I won), Theo got the couch, and I got the air mattress, which turned out to be pretty comfortable as long as I didn’t move a muscle. We’d shut the lights off ten minutes before and the room had gone silent, the only sound the occasional squeak of my air mattress or, farther off, a car driving by.
“Thanks for helping me today,” I whispered. “I don’t know if I could have shown up here without you.”
“You would have been fine,” Theo said. A slice of pale light shone in through a gap in the large front window curtains, dividing the room. I was on one side, he on the other.
“I don’t know about that.” I shifted to my side and could just make out his profile, his hands resting on his chest, the long line of his body tucked under a light blanket.
A fantasy took shape. I’d slip off the air mattress with an excuse to fix the curtain—that slice of light was annoying, after all. Then on my way back to bed, I’d get a little turned around in the dark and somehow manage to trip and fall on Theo. But do it gracefully like the well-bred woman I was. Think of a delicate leaf falling gently to the ground. In this scenario, I am the leaf, Theo is the ground. I end up smack on his chest and he starts laughing and I start laughing and then we both stop laughing because we’re gazing into each other’s eyes with such intensity an earthquake couldn’t keep us apart, and he lifts a hand and cups my cheek and then?—
“Is it weird? Seeing him?” Theo asked, interrupting me.
I pressed my hand to my forehead. Get yourself together, Ramos.
“What?” I asked, my voice about three octaves too high.
“You okay?”
I laughed (think hyena). “Totally fine.”
“Okay.” He waited a beat. “I asked if it was weird seeing Abe?”
“I mean, at first. He’s my brother but I don’t know this version of him like I knew the other one. Plus, he has a kid. It’s wild.”
“I think for him, too.” His voice sounded sleepy. “Just so you know, I didn’t know about her either. I wasn’t keeping that from you.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He yawned. The room went quiet. But I knew he wasn’t asleep, so I wasn’t surprised when he spoke. “I’ve been thinking I should go to Las Vegas.”
“To see your dad?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not actually meet him. But I guess I want the opportunity to decide if I want to meet him. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“I still don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“If this was your last chance to meet him and you missed it, how would you feel?”
“Not good.”
“I think that’s your answer. You should go.”
“Is it stupid though? The guy never even tried to come back and see me.”
“At least you can ask him why.”
“It’s terrifying.” The uncertainty I heard in his voice made my heart hurt for him. Confronting the guy who’d abandoned him as a baby was opening himself up to rejection a second time. Showing up at his house made him vulnerable to being rejected again. This was a huge decision and I wondered what I would do in his shoes. Would I be so quick to jump at the opportunity?
“Fear’s a real pain in the ass,” I said.
The list of things fear kept me from doing was long: driving; having a real, honest relationship; sleeping in my bed; running for mayor. My heart thrummed against my ribs. Maybe Mae was right. I had let fear allow me to live a quiet life.
The last time I’d been really brave was that day in Theo’s dorm room all those years ago. Sure, the result had been spectacularly awful, but I’d done it. I think I was even glad it had happened. It forced me to realize some things that sixteen-year-old me needed to learn.