“Autumn was there?” my dad asked. Obviously my letter hadn’t gotten back to my mom, or he would have known this information already. But him jumping to which specific girlfriend was telling.
Ren’s look of surprise put me in my place. It said, “You really only had one girlfriend?”
“I dated other people too,” I answered without his asking.
“ItwasAutumn, wasn’t it?” My mom vibrated with excitement.
“She was there. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff she does for the camp.” I picked up one of my parents’ linen cloth napkinswe’d found at a yard sale probably twenty-five years ago, twisting it in my hands. Way to give myself away.
“I haven’t thought about her in a long time,” Dad mused. He turned back to the grill and flipped the meat, running a brush over them with his famous wing sauce.
My mom didn’t say anything, but the opposite was probably true. Every time I showed up without a date to a family function, she brought up how good a boyfriend I was and how I deserved to be happy. The only person I’d dated that she’d liked was my high school girlfriend. Go figure.
“Who’s Autumn?” Erin inquired. She looked just as interested as the rest of the group. I felt like I’d shown up with a dog to show and tell. Except for my dad, no one’s attention was on anything else.
“You know that photo of James before his prom? The one where he’s laughing like a fool?” Dad supplied, turning back around to give me his full attention too.
My parents still had a photo of the two of us in their photo collage in the hallway. She’d worn a chartreuse strapless dress that she’d hated. She’d pulled the thing up all night because it kept sliding down. Autumn hadn’t been super into dresses back then. I wondered if she was now. I also wanted to find that picture and remember better times. I knew I’d look at it later to torture myself though.
“Ooh, she’s pretty,” Erin said. I wondered if she actually knew the photo they were talking about or if she was just taking part in the conversation to feel included. Didn’t matter. It was still the truth.
“Tell me you didn’t just let her go.” The seriousness in Marley’s tone had me feeling like the chastised teenager I was back when I’d dinged her car.
“Oh he did,” Ren cut in. “And he’s in love with her.”
“Dude.” I elbowed him before addressing my sister. “She lives in Wildwood. What would you have me do?”
“I don’t know. Maybetry,” my mom interjected, eyebrows narrowed. “You were hung up on that girl for years. Tell me different.”
I thought about arguing, but she was right. And she probably already had a presentation with bullet points in her head for why we belonged together.
Ren watched with apt eyes as my family tore into me. I didn’t think this had been his intention, but it was happening, and I’d chew him out later.
My mom continued. “You’ve been so focused on that job that you’ve forgotten what matters.”
I wanted to shout. I’d been reevaluating everything and knew I’d had my priorities out of whack and needed to rectify that. But even though I was feeling a change, it wasn’t obvious. I’d have to put my money where my mouth was.
But this was my family, and as much as I hated to hear it, they knew what was best for me. I hadn’t been with anyone in years, hadn’t even humored the idea of starting something with someone because I wouldn’t be devoted to them, but the idea that maybe I could have a family of my own wasn’t so daunting anymore. The hard truth about that was, it was only after spending time with Autumn, after falling in love with her all over again, that the thought even crossed my mind.
But that wasn’t what she wanted.
“I loved my care package,” Ren tried, finally stepping up and being the friend I needed. “Thank you so much, everyone.”
“Did you get my drawing?” Erin asked.
Ren squeezed her hand. “I did. I’m going to put it up in my office.”
“I packed the Warheads.” My dad came up from behind me, placing the wings on the table. We all sat down and startedloading our plates. “Reminded me of when I went to camp as a kid.”
“Way to rub it in our face, Dad. I always wanted to go to camp.” Marley whined.
Ren attempted to make her feel better. “Well, now you can. But Camp Starlight does have a bit of a waitlist. Although you may have an in…” He looked right at me and so did everyone else. So much for that friend save I’d been hoping for.
Ihadtoforcemyself to get in the car after chatting with my family. Leaving them was hard enough. Leaving Oregon was like admitting that I wasn’t going back.
The wave of sadness that hit me when I pulled away was flattening. We drove in silence for a while before Ren pressed continue on the playlist he’d curated for our drive. The upbeat tunes we’d belted on the drive down now felt demoralizing.
I needed a reset, and I think Ren knew that, because he changed up the music to a playlist of ballads. Instead of sounding comforting, it just sounded like heartbreak. Physically, I had to drive between the lines, but emotionally, it felt like I was all over the place. Like I was experiencing the five stages of grief all at once.
