“You can’t make me,” she said, managing to sound at least twelve.
“I can, actually.” He was tapping his fingers so hard on the table, it looked painful. “I’m your father. I’m pulling rank. I should have done this a long time ago, but better late than never, I guess—I’m your father.”
“Dad,” Cath whispered.
“No,” he said, staring at Wren. “I am not letting this happen to you. I’m not taking a call like that again. I’m not spending every weekend from now on, wondering where you are and who you’re with, and whether you’re even sober enough to know when you’ve landed in the gutter.”
Cath had seen her dad this mad before—heard him rant, watched him wave his arms around, cursing, steam pouring out of his ears—but it was never about them. It was never at them.
“This was a warning,” he said, stabbing his finger at Wren, nearly shouting. “This was your canary in the goddamn coal mine. And you’re trying to ignore it. What kind of father would I be if I sent you back to that school, knowing you hadn’t learned your lesson?”
“I’m eighteen!” Wren shouted. Cath thought this was probably a bad strategy.
“I don’t care!” he shouted back. “You’re still my daughter.”
“It’s the middle of the semester. I’ll fail all my classes.”
“You weren’t worried about school or your future when you were poisoning yourself with tequila.”
She cocked her head. “How did you know I was drinking tequila?”
“Christ, Wren,” he sighed bitterly. “You smelled like a margarita blender.”
“You kinda still do,” Cath muttered.
Wren planted her elbows on the table and hid her face in her hands. “Everybody drinks,” she said stubbornly.
Their dad pushed his chair back. “If that’s all you have to say for yourself, then all I have to say is—you’re coming home.”
He got up and went into his room, slamming the door.
Wren let her head and her hands fall to the table.
Cath scooted her chair closer. “Do you want some aspirin?”
Wren was quiet for a few seconds. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”
“Why should I be mad at you?” Cath asked.
“You’ve been mad at me since November. Since July.”
“Well, I’m done now. Does your head hurt?”
“You’re done?” Wren turned her head toward Cath, her cheek lying on the table.
“You scared me last night,” Cath said. “And I decided that I never want to drift that far away from you again. What if you’d died? And I hadn’t talked to you for three months?”
“I wasn’t going to die.” Wren rolled her eyes again.
“Dad’s right,” Cath said. “You sound like a moron.”
Wren looked down, rubbing her face in her wrist. “I’m not going to stop drinking.”
Why not? Cath wanted to ask. Instead she said, “Just pause, then. For the rest of the year. Just to show him that you can.”
“I can’t believe you have a boyfriend,” Wren whispered, “and I didn’t even know about it.” Her shoulders started to shake. She was crying again. Cath had never seen Wren cry this much.
“Hey…,” Cath said, “it’s okay.”
“I wasn’t going to die,” Wren said.
“Okay.”
“I just … I’ve really missed you.…”
“Are you still drunk?” Cath asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Cath leaned over, on the edge of her chair, and tugged at Wren’s hair. “It’s okay. I miss you, too. Not all this drunk stuff, but you.”
“I’ve been a jerk to you,” Wren whispered into the table.
“I was a jerk back.”
“That’s true,” Wren said, “but … God, will you forgive me?”
“No,” Cath said.
Wren looked up pathetically.
“I don’t have to forgive you,” Cath said. “It’s not like that with you. You’re just in with me. Always. No matter what happens.”
Wren lifted her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her thumbs. “Yeah?”
Cath nodded her head. “Yeah.”
*
Their dad went for a run.
Wren ate a burrito and went back to bed.
Cath finally read all her texts from Levi.
“turning round rite now .. be there by 3”
“cather .. i really care about you. seemed like maybe a good time to tell you that. hour a way now.”
“in the waiting room, not family, cant come back, handros here to. here .. ok? if you need me”
“back in arnold. gorgous day. did you know arnold has loess canyons and sand hills? the biological diversaty would make you weep Cather Avery. call me sweetheart. and by that i mean that you should call me .. not that you should call me sweetheart tho you can if you want. call me call me call me.”
Cath did. Levi was having dinner with his family. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, “it’s just tense. My dad’s mad at Wren, but he doesn’t really know how to be mad at either of us—and Wren is acting like a huge brat. I don’t think she knows how to be wrong.”