Ricochet

“Well, that sounds like a solid plan,” I say. “I’ll try to minimize now, but completely eliminate self-love when you return home.”

“That’s the shittiest plan I’ve ever heard.”

“What?” I frown. This is not normal. He usually agrees with me.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m there or not. If your therapist doesn’t think it’s a good idea, then it’s probably not one.”

“But that means…I won’t be able to have any kind of sex until you come home…” My pulse speeds up in sudden fear. I know Lo is cutting alcohol completely from his life, but my therapist said that recovering sex addicts shouldn’t strive towards celibacy forever. It’s an impossible standard to maintain. Sex is a part of human nature.

“Unless it’s with me,” Lo adds.

Now I’m really confused. “I don’t understand. You’re not here. Unless you’re going to mail me a dildo of your dick,” I say hopefully.

“Uh, no. I’m not letting anyone mold my cock for your pleasure. You can have the real thing at the end of March.”

“Then how am I supposed to have sex?”

“What about phone sex?” Ohhhh. Wait…

“Isn’t that the same thing as me masturbating?”

“Not if you’re doing it to my voice and only my voice. That way, you know when to stop, and it’ll set up a system for you. The hardest part about recovering from sex addiction—for you, I think—is going to be establishing limits, right?”

It sounds like a really good idea, and I’m kind of surprised he came up with this on his own. “Yeah, how do you know so much about it?”

“I’ve been talking to some counselors who know a lot about addictions, some have worked with sex addicts before. They’ve been giving me some advice.”

I smile. “So can we have phone sex now?”

“No.”

“What? But you just said—”

“You have to earn it.”

Huh… “That’s kind of mean.”

“I never said I would be nice. I’m done enabling you, which means we’re not going to have sex whenever you want it. You’ll have to find the strength to hold out until the time is right.”

“And you get to choose when the time is right. How is that fair?”

“I’m not the sex addict.”

Touché. “Jeez. I thought sober Lo would be nicer.”

“I’m nice when it counts,” he says. “You love me anyway.”

“I do,” I agree. “But if you wait another month before we have phone sex, I might hate you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I finger the hem of my shirt. “We divorced,” I mutter. “I thought you weren’t going to want me back.”

His voice lowers to a pained whisper. “Why would you think that?”

I lick my dry, chapped lips again. “Couples who divorce usually don’t get remarried.” Of course, we’re not actually married. But he’ll understand the metaphor. He’s used it before when we were teenagers. We played house most of our lives. It’s kind of fucked up, but I guess that’s just us.

“I’m remarrying you, Lil. Fuck, I’d remarry you a hundred times until it stuck.”

I pinch my eyes again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Even if I make you miserable?”

There’s a long pause before he murmurs, “You don’t make me miserable. You make me want to live. And I want to live with you.”

Jonathan stands and straightens his tie. “Lily.” He holds out his hand for me to take it, and I am momentarily struck by the change of events. Is Jonathan Hale really saving me from this douchebag right now?

I shouldn’t take his hand. I should spit at it and walk away. Lo would. But he’d also kill me if I didn’t leave Aaron when I had the chance. And I’m not an idiot. I want to be far, far away from him. So I stand, and this time, Aaron lets me disentangle from him. But I don’t touch Jonathan. I walk right on past him and head for the door, my exit in view.

Before I leave, I hear Aaron say, “She’s a slut, you know that, right?”

“And you think I don’t know what my son did to you? I helped him ruin you, you piece of shit,” he says.

Lo told his father about Aaron? About how he’d tormented him? I don’t question this. Because Lo’s relationship with his father was a taboo topic between us. It fluttered in and out of our conversations, and I was only allowed a glimmer. And I know, without a doubt, that Jonathan Hale would move mountains for Lo. He just needs to be in the right mood first.

“Like father, like son,” Aaron says.

I have to leave, but I’m glued next to the door. I glance back one last time, and Jonathan’s eyes briefly flicker to me. “That girl is practically my daughter-in-law.” He sets a firm hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “If I hear you did anything to her, you’ll wish all you had to deal with was my son. Now get out of my fucking face.”

“What do you want from me?!” our mother yells. “I’ve been there for you your whole life!”

“I want you to say you’re wrong! I want you to apologize for this evening and for putting me with Matthew Collins and for thinking I’m a tool that a man can use and dispose. I’m your daughter!” Rose screams, angry tears burning from the corners of her eyes. “You’re supposed to love me by telling me that I’m beautiful and I’m smart and no man is good enough for me. You’re not supposed to tell me I’m worth less than I am.”

My mother inches forward a little. “Can you listen to yourself, Rose? We’re at an event for your father’s company, and you’re making it about you. You think you’re a woman? You’re acting like a child.”

Rose stares directly at our mother. Unflinching, unwavering. And very coldly, she says, “Go to hell.”

He approaches her like a man tiptoeing towards a sleeping lion. “Rose,” he breathes. “Sweetheart…”

She’s shaking. Her arms tremble, and her eyes keep growing wider and wider. “She’s wrong,” Rose whispers. I can practically hear her chant in her head: I’m not like her. I’m not like her.

Connor closes the gap between them, and his hands touch her face, holding her cheeks, and gently soothing the reddened one with a soft stroke. “Look at me, hun.”

Rose tries to push him off. “Why…” She keeps shaking her head, but he holds her tight, trying to make her focus.

“I’m right here,” he tells her.

She weakly tries to push him off again, not really wanting to, and he grabs her hand. “I don’t need you,” she reminds him. But the silent tears start flowing. She’s crying in front of him, actually letting Connor see her cracks. I wonder if the emotions are too hard to bottle since she drank so much. “I don’t need you,” she repeats, her voice breaking.

“You’re right,” he says softly. “You don’t need a man, Rose.” He pauses and I barely hear him whisper, “But you do need me.”

She looks down and then back at him, her lashes wet and glistening, making her face look more porcelain and delicate than I ever remember. “What are you doing here?” she asks with the shake of her head. “You shouldn’t be here.” Her tears drip on his hands, both rising back to her face. He tucks a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear, and his eyes graze the welt on her cheek.

“A little bird told me you were upset.”

Rose lets out a choked cry. “Are you crazy?” She places her hands on his arms that hold her face but doesn’t force him away anymore. “You’re talking to birds now?”

His lips twitch into a weak smile. “I’d talk to any woodling creature if it gave me answers about you.”

“Would you walk through fire for me?” she deadpans.

“Yes,” he accepts the challenge.

“Brand my name on your ass?”

“Possibly.”

“Drink cow’s blood in my honor?”

“You’re so fucking weird,” he says with the biggest grin.

She breaks into a smile but it’s a pained one and then she starts sobbing. Like truly sobbing. He wraps his arms around her, and she falls into the hug. He guides her to the bathroom door to the right, and they disappear inside.

“She should know who I am by now,” Rose mutters. “I tell her all the time, you know? I’m never getting married, Mother. And it goes in one ear and out the other. I thought dating Connor would make things better. My first actual boyfriend. She’d be off my case. Instead, she’s whispering in my ear about what to say to him, how I should be, worrying over whether he’ll end things before I do.” Rose curses under her breath and stares up at the ceiling of the car. “How can you love your parents so much, but then absolutely hate them the next?” She inhales a deep breath. “I need to go back to therapy.”

Rose’s nose flares, her cat-colored eyes piercing. “Lily is with Lo,” she says. “Why would you ever cause her such pain and make another man escort her?”

“This again?” she snaps.

“Yes,” Rose retorts. “This again.”

My mother sighs. “What if Lo never returns? What if he chooses to be single by the end of this? I am creating a backup plan for her. I’m giving her options.”

Her words sting my chest, and I hardly notice Aaron laughing about something with my father, as if they’re long lost buddies. Lo will return. Won’t he? He will come back to me. He’ll want me…but the doubt festers in my soul. And I try to rid it with a confident nod, but I’m not feeling so assured right now. Not when my mother has zero faith in the man I love.

“Options?” Rose shrieks. “You’ve never given any of us an option. You know what option I would have liked? The option to disown my own mother.”

“Stop it,” she snaps. Her chin raises, but I can tell she holds in a breath, a sign that Rose’s words have truly started to infiltrate and infect and seep and hurt. “I helped you grow your company.”

“And you never let me forget it,” Rose sneers. The door cracks open, but no one notices Connor Cobalt slipping in except me. He has on an expensive tux, but his equally expensive smile is locked away. He wears a dark frown and stands guard by the door, watching Rose with serious, calm eyes. I am so grateful he’s here. Because I’m scared for Rose. I’m not sure how to calm her. I’m not sure what words will take away the pain of tonight.

I wish my mother could hear what Rose is saying. I feel like she’s screaming to be heard, but no one can understand. No one gets it

I sigh heavily, realizing it’s my turn. “Uhh…” I try to think of a good question, but they all contain Lo somehow. Finally I land on something semi-good. “What part did I play in the Wizard of Oz production?” I was only seven, and upon Lo’s request, his father pulled strings and took his son out of the performance so he didn’t have to play the Tin Man. Lo was so happy that he never had to rehearse with the class. He slept in the back of the room, his mouth hanging open, taking an extra nap time while we tried to memorize condensed, age-appropriate lines.

I miss him.

“You were a tree,” Daisy says with a nod. “Rose said you threw an apple at Dorothy and gave her a black eye.”

I point at her. “That was an accident. Don’t let Rose spread lies…” That story is in her arsenal to use against me, I swear.

Daisy shakes her head. “No, I haven’t told anyone that I lost it. You’re the first. You won’t say anything, right? Mom would kill me.”

“No, but…if you start having sex, you should be careful.”

“I know.” She nods a lot. “Do you think…do you think you can take me to the clinic? I kinda want to be on birth control.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you.” Another secret I’ll have to keep from the family, but this one I’ll gladly take. Unplanned pregnancy can be avoided, and girls shouldn’t feel ashamed to be on the pill.

“Rose has the best hair,” Daisy says. “It’s the perfect length and super shiny.”

“Yeah, but I think she combs it a hundred times a day. Like the mean girl from The Little Princess.”

Daisy’s lips twitch with a smile. “Did you just compare our sister to a villain?”

“Hey, a villain with good hair,” I defend. “She would appreciate that.” At least, I hope so.