“What’s up, Em?” My name rolled off Robby’s tongue, laced with sugar, lining a warm white mocha.
Thank God I paid the phone bill.
“Um, I’m just waking up. Worked late last night.”
I lowered the lid and plopped down on the toilet, watching the tiny raindrops of black coffee drip into the glass decanter. My eyes were trained on the Mr. Coffee logo as I listened to the same speech I’d heard from Robby last week.
“I don’t know why you’re so insistent on that bar job. You could come home, make peace with your dad, and take a few credits in New York or wherever you want, be near me. I’m not saying go full-time in Jersey or anything ... I just want to see you do right. So does your dad. You’d be the first one to go to college on your side of the family—”
I blew out a loud breath and interrupted his monologue. “My mom went to college, so I’m not the first.”
“She’s not your family, and you know it. This is some phase you’ve dragged everyone around you into. Your dad is busy at work, and I’m getting ready for the next ten years of my life. Can’t you see that? This is crazy. Your dad needs you.”
The smell of the coffee was barely scraping the surface when it came to my headache.
“I’m not making up with my dad right now. He pushed me into this, and now you two are best buddies. What’s up with that? I had this fight because of you, because of us. I left Sea Isle because he wanted us to act like prudes, and now you’re on his side. Honestly, I don’t get it.”
I put the phone on mute and cleared the phlegm from my throat, not wanting to share any more weaknesses with the man—boy—who supposedly cared for me.
“Babe, after the phone call we had a few nights ago, there’s no way you’re a prude. I don’t think your dad wants his face rubbed in it, that’s all. He’s just a dad, overprotective of his girl. And I think you’ll want a degree at the end of the day. It’s the respectable thing to do.”
“Don’t,” I said sharply. “You talked me into the other night. With all you tell me what you want me to do, and this is a safe place, and I love you, blah, blah. Were you tricking me? Because, frankly, I don’t know who the hell you are.”
Classic Robby.Always straddling the middle, he confused me. Whose side was he really on? Maybe I was wrong staying tied to him?
“Emerson, what’s wrong with you?”
“Don’t go all judgy on me, Robby. I’m going to find my way, maybe find my mom, ask her why the hell she didn’t want me, and then I can think about school. On my terms. As for making up with my dad, I don’t know. He’s so unhappy with me ... like you are now, all of a sudden.” My head pounded with each word. “But until I figure shit out, I have to bartend and serve food. It’s the only kind of job I’m qualified for, and these people are nice, interesting, different, and not judgmental. I need that.”
I scrunched my forehead during the tail end of what felt like a sermon. My head roared at me when I stood too quickly to grab my mug from the medicine cabinet. Finally, the sound of the hot liquid swishing around in the pot was almost as soothing as ibuprofen.
“That’s not the way it has to be. I met with your dad the other day—”
“Why? Christ, what is up with you and my dad?”
“Because it’s the only way he knows you’re okay, Em, and he deserves that ... don’t you think?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to stabilize my mood. I told myself not to be upset with Robby. My intentions weren’t entirely genuine either.
“You’re a good guy, Robby. I appreciate you taking care of my dad. But I’m fine. I have a few leads left, and I just want to put this whole thing to rest. Then I can move forward—you know, really grow up, lose my V-card to someone who cares, not worry about getting pregnant and ending up like my mom. God, you and my dad should have more respect for me. I did good in school, and I’ve not exactly been a fuck-up.”
Robby sat there in silence, so I went on. “I can’t believe I’m saying this all over the phone, and you’re ghosting me on the other end.”
“Look, I get it, Em. I do. But we were all good the way we were. Yeah, I wanted more, but we were good, and I was happy to wait. But now you’re acting like a bitch.”
“What did you just say? I’m super hung over, and I swear you just said I was the one acting like a bitch.”
“I did.”
“You know what? My dad was so worried that I’d become my mom, that he kept me from going all the way with you. Even though I already feared the worst happening. Yet, now you side with him. Don’t you want to be with me? You certainly aren’t acting that way.”
Christ, I was all over the place emotionally. I started sweating, and alcohol oozed from my pores, filling the air with its putrid scent. Even though I was only eighteen, when we closed the bar, sometimes we had a few libations. It was fine. It wasn’t all the time, and our boss turned a blind eye.
“Emerson, I think you need to go sleep this off and talk to me when you’re in a better mood.”
“So, you don’t want to sleep with me anytime soon?”
“Not like this. You say it like you’re some cheap two-bit whore. Don’t you want to make love like most girls your age? Think about that,” he said, and then hung up.
