180 Seconds

“We are always okay. Always. And I’m sorry for snapping at you, but I think I had to.”


“Esben probably should have snapped at me.”

“He didn’t?”

I shrug. “Not really. I’m not sure I gave him the chance.” I reach for a lemon bar. “He did say that I wasn’t making any sense. Mostly, he was way too nice. And probably way too scared about what a lunatic I’d become.” I lean forward and set my forehead on the counter. “I’m so embarrassed. And I feel awful. He didn’t deserve a lot of what I said to him. What I did to him.”

“Most of it, probably not.” Simon rubs my back. “But maybe a little. I’m not sure. Again, he was between a rock and a hard place, and there may not have been any right moves. In the end, I think you really know this boy. And you trust him.”

Simon is right. I’m not the person I used to be. I do trust Esben. And I do believe in him and in us.

“Goddamn it!” I suddenly scream. “Dad, how in the hell do I fix this?”

Simon busies himself with whipping up cream-cheese frosting for the carrot-cake cupcakes and doesn’t say anything.

I strum my fingers on the counter, I cry some more, I fret, I vacillate between drowning in shame and then forgiving myself because of the loss I’ve faced. Because I am flawed and not even close to being perfect.

Then a bright spot in this depressing spiral hits me.

I sit up. “I called you ‘Dad.’”

Simon nods but continues furiously whisking the concoction in the bowl.

“I called you ‘Dad,’” I say more emphatically. “That’s big.”

“You did. And it is.”

“When I was in the cab on the way to the airport . . .” I’m rather stunned. “I did it then, too.”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure if you . . . meant it.”

A smile overtakes me. Happiness overtakes me. “I did.”

“I like that.” Simon’s face looks so sweet right now, and it eases my stress and upset.

“I remember asking you to help me.”

“Yes.”

“And you did. You always do.”

“And I always will.”

I fiddle with arranging a series of cake toppings, lining up small containers of sparkles, pearls, and shimmery sugars. There are about ten food stains on my sleeves, but I don’t care. “I know that. I see now that I haven’t ever doubted that. Doubted you. Not really. You’re my father. My dad.”

“Forever.”

So, while I haven’t questioned Simon, I apparently had a massive failure when it came to trusting Esben. I slump forward. God, he deserved more. “Esben stopped texting and calling on Tuesday morning. That’s not a good sign. I could be too late. What if I’ve lost everything?”

“You haven’t,” Simon states with conviction as he pulls a perfectly risen chocolate cake from the oven. “It’s only been a few days. A few days since you lost Steffi, since you blew up at Esben. Pull yourself together, and be rational, okay? And, really, come on now. You perfected the trifle. How can anything bad happen after such an accomplishment?”

“I called you ‘Dad’ and made a trifle that didn’t make anyone want to puke. Two milestones, right?” I ask hopefully.

“Right.” Simon beams as he holds out a spoonful of his cream-cheese frosting for me to taste.

“You’re still driving me back to school tomorrow, right?” I ask.

“Yes, why?”

I lean in and taste the frosting. It’s perfect, of course. “I need to call Kerry. Get advice and girl talk before I get back to school. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Run off. Be a college kid who doesn’t help clean up the kitchen—it’s fine. I will somehow manage . . . without you.” He feigns distress, and his act is so over-the-top that I laugh. I actually laugh for the first time in days.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, and I will scour this kitchen, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Simon suddenly feigns casualness. “Allison? If you’d like, you could . . . just take my old car yourself, okay? I have the new one now.”

“Oh, yes. That simple little Porsche. You kept the other one? That I know you don’t need?” I eat another five scoops of frosting and try to suppress a smile before Simon grabs the spoon from my hand.

“Just say yes.”

Technically, Simon didn’t buy me a car . . .

“Okay. Yes.”

I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but Simon walks over to Bruce and begins petting him like crazy. “Did you hear that? Our Allison is now the proud owner of a car.”

Bruce thumps his tail and pants as though he’s actually excited.

“More importantly, what’s up with Kerry?” Simon asks as he rubs his nose against Bruce’s. “What’s this call about?”

I walk over to them and stroke Bruce’s fur. “I’m going back to basics.” It’s nice to feel like myself again. Or, rather, like the new me again. Confident in what I want, even though I don’t know how everything will turn out. “Hey, Simon? Dad?”

“Yes, love?”

I move over and lean into my incredible father and hug him. “Thank you. So much. For everything.”

“Anytime.”

“Sorry about all this insane baking.”

“We all get a little bonkers sometimes. Better baking than, you know, burning down the house.”

“True.”

I hug him for so long that eventually he laughs and begins patting my back. “Go on. Make your call. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

I step away and smile.

I know what I want, and I’m going to do what I can to get it.

Bruce Wayne stretches and pushes his nose against me in what I take as a sign of approval. I’ll take positivity wherever I can right now.





CHAPTER 32




TIME AND AGAIN

The drive back up to Andrews College the next morning was interminable, and more than once, Kerry clapped her hand over my fingers as they drummed over the steering wheel. I couldn’t help it.

My phone call with Kerry was embarrassing and awkward and full of my apologies, but she’s on my side. And she’s not particularly thrilled with the fact that Esben wouldn’t speak to her about what happened between him and me, so she was glad that I filled her in. After telling Esben that she was fed up with his silence, she drove back to school with me instead of with her brother.

Now, it’s a beautiful evening in picturesque Landon. Kerry and I sit together on the same bench where I sat last fall. As I did then, I stare at the lake; only this time, I am not trying to escape, to drown.

Tonight, I am trying to live.

She puts a hand on my back to ease my trembling. “It’s going to be all right.”

I watch the ebb and flow of the lake. This past week is too much to take in, and while I have lost Steffi, and I temporarily lost the new person I’d become, I cannot lose everything. The water is beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

After a while, I say, “I am so in love with him.”

“I know,” she says. “Just breathe, Allison. You can do this.”

At six o’clock, I look at Kerry. “Now?”