I set an alarm so I don’t miss my flight and stretch out across one of the couches. Holding my phone to my chest, I close my eyes. It feels like I’m only out for a few minutes when vibrating wakes me. It takes me a while to clue in that it’s a call, not my alarm. Prying my eyes open, I hold it up and wait for it to come into focus.
Sunny’s face flashes across the screen, her bright smile darkening my mood. I let it go to voice mail. I’m not capable of dealing right now. Regardless, I wait to see if she’s going to leave me a message. Less than a minute later, my phone chimes with a new voice mail.
I key in my code and let my finger hover over the play button. Eventually I give in and listen. Sunny’s voice is a warm hug and a knife in the chest.
“Hi, Miller. I guess you’re not answering your phone right now. Or maybe you’re not answering for me.” Her voice cracks. “I know I shouldn’t have left with Alex today, but I didn’t want you two to fight. And with Kale and Benji being there, I worried things would get way out of hand, and Lily was upset about . . . well, everything. Violet got here a while ago. She said Alex broke your nose, and I gave you stitches.” She hiccups. “I guess maybe I wasn’t ready for this relationship. I’m sorry I couldn’t trust you . . . never mind. Can you just call me?”
Every time I replay it I’m dragged farther down into emotional sludge. It doesn’t sound like she wants to get back together. It sounds like she’s done.
***
The flight home sucks. Some over-processed chick has the seat beside me in first class. She wants to talk. It’s almost midnight; all I want to do is get my ass home and wallow. I’ve never been a wallower before, but it seems appropriate, considering.
Once I’m back in Chicago, I spend the next two days playing video games and eating meat-lovers pizza and suicide wings while drinking soda. I avoid Lance and Randy when they call. I don’t hear from Sunny again, and I don’t return her call. What is there to say? I do, however, hear from Violet. She’s damn well relentless with the phone calls and messages and emails.
On day three of my undetermined wallowing period, my door buzzer goes off during an epically shitty video game session. I’m not expecting anyone.
I get up off the couch and shuffle to the intercom. “Yeah?”
“Buck?”
“Dad?” What the fuck? “I thought you and Skye were away.”
“We got back last night.”
“Oh. How was the trip?”
“Good. You wanna let me in, Son?”
“I’m here too!” That’s Skye, my stepmom. “The trip was better than good, but I can’t share the details without embarrassing Sidney!”
“Don’t start, Mom. I’m here, too, Buck,” Violet says. “Open the door.”
“Sure. Okay.” I hit the buzzer and wait for the sound of the door opening before I release it. Violet has to be the reason for the family visit. I glance around my condo. It’s amazing the mess I can make in two days. I don’t even have the energy to care.
Also, I’m naked, since that’s how I roll when I’m alone and wallowing, or even not wallowing. Priority one is putting on clothes.
I find a cleanish pair of shorts and a shirt on the floor. There’s a knock a minute later. I open the door. Skye stands there with her arms wide. Then her smile freezes, along with the rest of her. My dad gives me the raised-eyebrow onceover.
Vi’s holding a tray of fast-food ice cream sundaes. Her nose crinkles. “Oh. Wow. Breakup does not look good on you.”
I ignore her. I’m not that bad, I don’t think. “Hey, family. Come on in. The place is a mess.” I step aside and gesture to my living room. The coffee table is covered in pizza boxes and Styrofoam containers of wing bones. Empty soda cans litter the floor.
“Oh, Buck!” Skye unfreezes and hugs me. She and Vi are almost exactly the same, from the way they look to the way they act, except Skye’s in her forties rather than her twenties. “I’m so sorry about you and Sunny.”
I pat her on the back. “Yeah, me, too.”