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Finally, Forever(41)

By:Katie Kacvinsky


“I know,” she says. “And I’ve always respected you for leaving. I’ve always looked up to you.”

“You? Looked up to me?” I ask.

“Of course I did. A lot of people say they’re going do these crazy, wild things. But hardly anyone does. You follow through with everything you say you’re going to do. You never let anyone try to hold you back.” She meets my eyes. “But then let me do the same thing. You’re not the only one who wants to be independent.”

“It’s different, Serena,” I say gently. I pick up a bag of Cheetos on the table and hand her a few. She accepts them, swallows a mouthful and then grabs the bag from me and digs her hand inside. Her eyes lose a little of their guarded hostility. Maybe Mike was right.

“I didn’t have another life depending on me,” I say. “Sure, I was independent, but I also wasn’t nine months pregnant driving around the country.”

Serena looks down at her basketball-sized stomach.

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do when he’s born? You’re going to need a doctor. You’re going to need to stay put for a while. Let me help you get settled.”

Serena stares at the wall in front of us. Her lips are tight.

“I know what I’m doing.”

That’s not the point I’m trying to make. I choose my next words carefully. “You need to think about Luke. This isn’t just about you anymore. Please don’t be selfish about this.”

She looks over at me. “You should talk. What about Gray?”

“What about him?”

“You’ve never considered Gray. Yes, I have a baby to consider, so it’s not just about me. But a relationship is the same thing. It shouldn’t have to take having a baby to understand that it’s not all about you.”

I narrow my eyes.

“You’re right,” I admit.

“So don’t call me selfish, Dylan. I’m actually trying to make this work with Mike because I love him. We’re figuring it out. I didn’t want to stay home and have Mom and Dad tell me how to raise my kid. I don’t like being told what to do either.”

“But you’re going to need help, Serena. Just let us help you.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want your help.”

My stomach starts to knot. “So, that’s it?” I ask. “What about Mom? Would you let her fly out here?”

She looks down at her feet.

“Whenever I have a problem Mom just hounds me. She tells me what to do. She’ll make everything worse.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. I’m reaching for anything to make her change her mind. “Maybe it feels like she’s smothering you. I guess love does that sometimes. But isn’t that better than no support at all?”

Her eyes start to tear up.

“When I’m ready, I’ll call you. I promise. When I’m ready. But I don’t want you here right now. If you really want to help me, leave me alone.” Her stubborn eyes tell me the debate is over.

I breathe out a sigh.

“Fine,” I say.





Gray





Dylan silently slides into my car and shuts the door. I climb in and start the ignition. She’s scaring me. She hasn’t spoken since she walked out of the green room. I can only guess at the verbal shrapnel that’s cutting her up inside. I don’t want to say the usual stupid catch phrases. What’s wrong? You okay? What can I do? Do you want to talk about it? So, I just stay silent.

The stereo’s loud and I reach over to turn it down and Dylan catches my hand.

“Will you put in some music?” she asks, and I nod. I can always handle the job of musical supervisor. I can sense the feelings flooding her mind and I look through my CD’s for something that might help. I slide in an album by The Lumineers.

We drive through downtown Flagstaff, passing historic hotels with brick facades and welcoming green awnings. We’re over seven thousand feet high, but I don’t think Dylan has ever felt lower.

I keep my eyes alert for the nearest highway sign out of here. I haven’t been to Flagstaff in four years. The last time I was here, I was at a hospital with my parents where we found out from a room full of strangers that my sister was dead. And we didn’t get there in time to say goodbye. She died before she went into surgery. They warned us before we saw her—she had head wounds from the accident and she wouldn’t look the same. I can still see her purple-gray lips and pale skin. I remember how cold the room felt and how I saw black spots behind my eyes before I passed out.

I vowed I would never return to this place again.

My foot pushes down on the accelerator when I see a highway ramp.