March 3rd
DADCooper, we need to talk.There are things you need to know about your uncle.
Cooper, please pick up your phoneMarch 5thJAMESCoop, what Dad has to say is importantWhat, are you ignoring me too?You better still be coming to the galaMarch 9thPENNYAre you sure this is a good idea?Heâs more of a dad to me than my own father, PenOkayJust⦠make sure youâre being carefulDid Seb talk to you?No. Iâm just worried about youThe Callahan Family Foundation Annual Charity Galaâyeah, a real mouthfulâis my motherâs pride and joy, which means she expects all four of her children to be on their best behavior. Tuxedos and ballgowns are mandatory. Bickering is met with a swift glare. Most years, I use up my patience for small talk an hour in; there are always new friends of my parents to meet and make nice with. Last year, when Bex attended for the first time, people were so into her and Jamesâ lovebird act that Sebastian and I snuck out of the ballroom and crashed a wedding going on next door. This year, I have Penny on my arm, and while I wouldnât have it any other way, I have a feeling weâre going to draw a lot of eyes. She should, looking hot as fuck in her emerald ballgown, complete with strappy gold heels and matching hoop earrings, and of course that wildfire hair hanging loose around her shoulders.The other difference is that I have Uncle Blake with me. Fuck you, Dad. I hope you enjoy watching me bring him around to all your benefactors.At the entrance to the Plaza, Uncle Blake stops, adjusting his bow tie. âHavenât been to this in years. Not since you were tiny.ââYeah, well, you shouldâve been here all along. Dadâs been an asshole to you.â I scuff at the sidewalk with my shoe, squeezing Pennyâs hand. Having her here means more than she knows, even if the past few days have been tense. I shouldnât have pushed her to say those words. âHe needs to know that youâre part of this family and not going away.âUncle Blake claps his hand on my shoulder. âTo new beginnings. I move into my new apartment tomorrow. You can come see me in the city anytime you want, you and Penny both.âI pull him into a hug. âAnd the job?ââIâm back.â He squeezes me tight. âI couldnât have done it without your support.âBefore we follow him to the entrance, Penny tugs on my hand. She pulls me into a kiss. âIf you need a break, letâs find a closet.âI laugh against her mouth. âI loââStopping myself hurts, but I do, cutting my own words off with another kiss. If I keep pushing, and she feels backed into a corner, she might give into something she doesnât really feelâor maybe sheâll bolt. I clear my throat. âSounds good.âThe person checking names at the door frowns when Uncle Blake gives his, but once I lean in and explain the situation, he waves all three of us through. My parents go all out for this event, but this year feels fancier than most; when we enter the ballroom, I canât decide where to look. A live band is playing on a stage at the other end of the room. The tables are set neatly, each with a white-and-blue flower arrangement in the center and full crystal dinnerware. Thereâs not one, but two full bars, and servers in white shirts and dress pants walking around with trays of hors dâoeuvres. The chandlers overhead sparkle in the low light. I asked my mother once why she always had the gala during the worst part of the year, late winter in New York, when the weather is still bitter and any snow thatâs left is sad and gray, and she replied she did it for that very reason; she wanted to give herselfâand her friends and colleagues and benefactorsâsomething to look forward to in the dreary days of early March. By the way Pennyâs breath catches, I think she hit the right note between magical and sophisticated.âIâm going to the bar,â Uncle Blake says.I think the alarm shows on my face, because he laughs and says, âFor a seltzer, kid, calm down.â He weaves through the crowd with his head held high, like he knows he belongs here.âWant a glass of wine?â I ask Penny. âThey wonât check IDs at this.ââUm, sure.â She trails her fingers over the nearest chair. Itâs gold, with a blue silk bow tied around the back. âThis is really⦠really fancy, Cooper, are you sureâ¦âI brush my lips against hers. âYouâre the prettiest girl here. Come on, I have people I want to introduce you to.âBefore we get very far, though, my mother spots us. Sheâs wearing a deep blue gown with a silk shawl tied around her shoulders. Her hair is done in some sort of complicated knot, held atop her head with a crystal-studded clip. The crowâs feet at the corners of her eyes crinkle as she pulls me into a hug, then does the same for Penny.âDarling,â she says. âIzzy is still getting ready, but your brothers are around here somewhere. You both look so beautiful. Thank you for coming, Penny.ââThanks for inviting me,â Penny says. âThis is really incredible, Mrs. Callahan.ââOh, call me Sandra.â She squeezes Pennyâs arm, flicking her gaze to mine for a moment. My heart swells. âIâve just been so thrilled about the two of you dating, you have no idea.âThen she leans in, the smile dropping right off her face. âSweetie, you need to tell your uncle to leave.âIâm shaking my head before she even finishes her sentence. âNo.ââYour father doesnât want him here.â She glances over to the bar, where Uncle Blake is laughing with the bartender. âAnd frankly, I donât want him here.âI take a step back. I had been expecting this from Dad, but from Mom, too? âBut⦠Mom, heâs family.âShe gives me a firm look, reaching out to cup my cheek with her hand. âAnd sometimes family is best loved from a distance.ââNo. Thatâs not fair.â I shrug away from her touch. âHeâs clean. Heâs sober. He moved back to New York to be with us again.âShe sighs. âOh, Cooper. He said that when you were seven. Then he tried when you were ten, and again when you were seventeen.ââAnd instead of helping him, you keep driving him away.ââNo,â she says sharply. Her lip wobbles, a wave of heartbreak coming over her face. Fucking hell. I thought that even if Dad doesnât understand, she would, and the fact sheâs not even mad, just upsetâupset because of something I didâhits me like a strike to the ribs. âWe tried for so long, but some things canât be forgiven. Your father and I couldnât have lived with ourselves if you got hurt again. Make him leave, Cooper, please. We can talk about this later.ââAgain?â Penny says. âWhat do you mean, again?ââThat was just an accident,â I say slowly. âMom, it wasnât his fault.ââWhat accident?â Penny tugs on my arm. âCooper?âMom presses her lips together tightly. âIâm asking him to leave, and if he doesnât, Iâll have security escort him out.â She wipes quickly at her eyes, then blinks twice, standing up straighter. She plasters a smile back on her face. âYou need to trust me, honey.ââHeâs not some criminal!â My voice rises even though I donât mean for it to; a couple of people glance our way. Mom strides across the room, and I follow her, but Penny digs her heels in to stop me.âCooper,â she says. âI think you should listen to her. And your dad. Somethingâs not right.ââYou too?â I grind out. âPenny, seriously?ââItâs just weird that he asked you for all that money.â Her eyes search mine. âThink about it, Cooper. What grown man asks his nephew for that much money?ââItâs to pay off his rehab costs.âShe shakes her head. Her voice is very soft. âNo rehab is over a quarter of a million dollars.ââWhat, are you some expert on it?â I canât keep the venom out of my tone. I shake her off and stride after my mother.My father beats both of us.If I thought I knew what my father looks like when heâs mad before this, I had been witnessing no worse than mild irritation. Rage practically dances across his features; his mouth is a tight slash, his gaze so dark even Iâm taken aback. He snatches the glass right out of Uncle Blakeâs hand, sniffs it, and slams it down on the top of the bar.âGin,â he snarls. âThat was always your favorite, wasnât it?ââRichard, honey,â Mom says, glancing around. Her smile is all wobbly again. âPlease donât make a scene.ââOh, Iâll make a fucking scene.â He glances at me for half a second before grabbing my uncle by the shoulder and practically dragging him to the nearest door. âYouâve always been good at worming your way into places you donât belong, Blake, Iâll give you that.ââDad!â I shout. My voice rings through the room, and I know Iâm drawing too much attention, but right now, I donât fucking care. I take a step forward, but someone grabs me around the waist.âDonât,â James says into my ear. âLet him handle it.âI elbow him hard, and I must startle him, because he breaks away with a curse. âCooper.ââFuck you,â I say. âYou donât understand.âJames grabs me by the elbow and hustles me to the wall. I can see Penny hovering; she puts her hand on Momâs arm. The band is still playing, so I doubt the guests milling around can hear us, but they sure as hell can see us.âListen to me,â he says. âUncle Blake is using you.âI laugh. âYouâre just like Dad. He says jump, you ask how fucking high. I thought maybe when you fought for Bex, you were finally getting a backbone, but I was wrong.âHis mouth tightens. âDonât say shit you donât mean.âI reach for the door Dad and Uncle Blake went through and yank it open. Weâre in some sort of dressing room; judging by the vanity in the corner, this is where a bride might get ready before she walks down the aisle. My uncle has his hands up, in the middle of a sentence. The moment he sees me, though, he stops.âCooper,â he says. âGo back to the party. Weâve got this handled.ââDonât listen to him,â I say, glaring at Dad. âWhatever heâs saying, know I donât believe it.âDad has a piece of paper in his hand. He thrusts it at me. âFine. If you wonât believe me, look at the proof.âItâs a flight confirmation. JFK to LAX. Passenger name Blake Callahan. I stare down at it, then crumple it up and toss it aside. âWhatâs it supposed to be proof of? So heâs going back to California, whatever.ââHeâs not sober. Heâs not clean. That was a gin tonic in his fucking hand, and Iâm sure he has coke on him somewhere.â My dadâs voice is like solid ice. âHeâs been using you this whole time, son. You want to know the reason I keep my own fucking brother at a distance? Itâs not because I hate him for being an addict. Itâs because he nearly killed you!âThe door clicks shut as Dadâs words echo in the air.Penny stands with her hands on her hips, a stricken but determined look on her face. âCooper,â she says. âYour mom just told me heâwhen you were sevenâyou got into a car accident.ââI told you that. Itâs how I got the scar by my ear.â I look over my shoulder at my uncle, who drags his teeth across his lower lip. âSomeone hit our car on the way to practice.ââHe was drunk and high.â She tries and fails to hold back a sob. âYou got a concussion and broke your arm.ââI remember. But he wasnâtâit wasnâtââ I look at my uncle again. He meets my gaze, but thereâs sadness in his eyes. My stomach clenches tightly. âIt was just an accident.ââInstead of pressing charges, I paid for his rehab,â Dad says. âOnly he took the money and ran off to California.â He turns on my uncle once more. âYou could have killed my fucking son, and instead of putting you in prison, where you ââbelongedâStop,â I interrupt. He tries to keep going, so I shout the word instead. âJustâstop! Fucking stop.â I walk to my uncle. Iâm trembling so hard I can practically feel my teeth chatter. âI donât care about the past.ââItâs not the past,â Dad says. âHe manipulated us then, and he tried again when you were a teenager, but I kept him away. I tried to this time, but he knew what buttons to press, son. He knew how to turn you against me. Against the family.ââHeâs our fucking family!âDad shakes his head. âHow much did you give him, Cooper?ââI donâtâââHow much, dammnit?âI bite back a curse. âJustâwhat he asked for. Right, Uncle Blake? For the rehab?âDad laughs shortly. âOf course. The rehab card. The money is for debts, Cooper. Gambling debt. Debt to his dealers. He doesnât give a fuck about anything but getting what he needs.ââStop lying!ââItâs not a lie,â says James. âHe came to me first, last fall. He tried to get me to give him money. I guess when I refused, he moved on to you.ââHe knew youâd gain access to your trust fund this year,â says Dad. He doesnât even sound angry anymore. Just exhausted. âAnd now that he has the money, heâs not coming back, not until he needs more.âI shake my head. âNo. He wouldnât do that to me. Right, Uncle Blake?â He looks at me, but doesnât say anything. I swallow; thereâs a lump in my throat the size of a hockey puck. âYou have the apartment, and the jobâweâre going to a Rangers game soonâeven if youâre off the wagon again, we can get you back on it. Iâll help.âHe rubs his hand over his jaw. âIâm sorry, kid.âI donât want it to be true. Iâm desperate for everyone to be lyingâeveryone but him. Yet I see it in his eyes. He has what he wants, and heâs not coming back.I laugh. It sounds tinny. A recording of laughter instead of an actual sound I just made. My hands are clammy, and when I try to clench and unclench my fists, I canât quite manage the whole motion. The edges of this shitty little room look blurred. I take a step back and nearly stumble over a chair. Thereâs another door, not the one that goes into the ballroom, but somewhere else. I need to get to it. I need air before I stop fucking breathing.Iâm the biggest idiot in the world. Never Dadâs first choice. My uncleâs second choice of which nephew to swindle, apparently. Couldnât even be first at that. Now that Penny has heard the whole goddamn mess, sheâs going to run screaming in the other direction. I convinced myself that she loved me but just didnât know how to say it yet, but the truth is, it was only a matter of time before she left.After this? I donât want her to be with me either. Iâm a fool, and she can do better.I pull open the door and run into the hallway. Someone calls after me, but Iâm not sure who, and right now, I donât care. My shoes squeak on the expensive floor as I run down the hallway, right into the fancy, delicately decorated lobby. I shove the door open before the doorman can get it for me and skid out onto the sidewalk. I start shivering immediately, but it feels good. Let me feel something other than pain, even if itâs nearly as unpleasant.Weâre right near Central Park. I run to the nearest entrance and hurry down one of the many paths. Iâm not all that familiar with this park, but thereâs an outdoor rink around here somewhere that should still be in season. We went last year, all of us, even Dad, who doesnât like skating.I know Iâm in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the world, but if I can just see a rinkâa sliver of someone elseâs happiness, set under the stars and a late winter moonâthen maybe the world will stop spinning.