Worth the Trouble ✓

epilogue

SEPTEMBER ROLLS AROUND, WHICH IS the month I am supposed to decide whether to stay in Seattle or return to Carsonville. But I decided a long time ago.

I call Mom and Dad to tell them. I've been calling them the whole summer, asking Mom about what I was like as an infant, asking Dad how to fix things correctly, professionally. I plan to wean my financial dependence on them away by working a shit-ton of overtime, though every time I try to broach a repayment plan for their monetary support this summer, neither of them will finalize any details. That's their way of showing love, I guess.

"Suki and I want to come back to Carsonville for the winter," I inform Mom. "If you can bear staying in the same town as Dad for a few days, I think you would really like your granddaughter. She's clever as hell."

"That's wonderful, sweetheart," Mom says surprisingly. "Let me know what dates and I'll book a hotel."

Suki and Walter break up before the month is over. I find out at another family dinner, which includes Georgia because she's Cassie's family as much as I am, when the former coughs and asks, "So, how's Walter?"

Suki shoots her a glare, which suggests that the girls have hashed it over far earlier than this discussion. In the brief, tense silence, the indie music playing from Georgia's Bluetooth speaker pushes up from the background.

"We broke up."

"Oh, my God. I'm so heartbroken," Georgia says drolly, though they really only dated from May till now. Five months. Hardly a life-changing experience. "What happened?"

(Later, from both Georgia and Suki but in separate instances, I will discover that the more I disproved the deadbeat dad image that Walter had in his mind, the more threatened and insecure he became. The way he was clamoring for time with Cassie and attention from Suki made her feel like she was actually a parent to two children, so she dropped him. Suki: no regrets. Georgia: told you.)

"You're truly a woman of tact, Georgia," Suki responds.

She winks. "It's my trademark."

"Joja!" Cassie screams from her high chair, repeating her mother. Somehow, Georgia takes that as a decisive victory in the conversation and smirks triumphantly at both the other adults at the table.

When the next song comes on, I go very still. Part of me hopes that Suki won't remember, but most of me would shrivel if she had indeed forgotten. It's one of my favorite memories of her. She meets my eyes and blushes pink, dropping her gaze to her plate of food.

Georgia notices. "Sex song? Kind of tragic, but alright."

The familiar thrumming guitar fills the room, soft enough that we'd have to stop talking to make out the smoky lyrics. Soft enough that if it was a person, I'd have to lean close in order to still hear it. Intimate.

Suki chuckles, reaching for another scoop of asparagus stems. "Oh, it's nothing," she explains casually. Nothing. I ignore the pang in my ribs. "I used to do ballroom dancing. A lifetime ago. One time, I tried to teach Terrence how to do it. I used this song because of the waltz time signature."

"And I was shockingly bad at it," I add, eager to move on.

I don't want to live in the past and project my memories on to the relationship I have with Suki right now. The past isn't the present isn't the future.

Recently I asked Georgia, "I know you didn't like Walter with Suki, but why do you like me with her? You didn't see what a mess we were in high school."

"You haven't ever seen Su without you," she retorted, "and you never will, given it's a scientific impossibility to see something you're not around to see, ain't it? So take my word for it."