The Summer Of Us (Summer I Turned Pretty FanFiction)

Chapter 11: Replaceble

Maybe that's the beauty in things -the fact that they don't last forever. Maybe there's something tremendously romantic in the sediment that death is indeed inevitable. I only imagined death one way. The growing old kind of way, gently rocking in and out of consciousness until you're completely asleep. I think about death way too much for someone my age probably should. And like a cruel joke with only a page warning, Charlotte dies, and I can't help but become that helpless eight years old all over again. But that's the pure genius of E.B White, he doesn't shy away from death, cover it under a rug and deny its existence just because children are children. What Charlotte and Wilbur had was a true, unbreakable friendship. I guess it would be a major cliche if I said love conquers all evil, so I'll say this. Love is a fight, so is death. It's painful. But it's real.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it." I could barely hear him over the bustling of crowds and traffic coming from his side. I don't think he could quite hear himself either, his voice straining.

"That's okay." I tried not to sound disappointed. Conrad's been saying sorry a lot lately, I try not to take it personally.

"I'LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU I PROMISE!" He says now shouting.

"I love you," I reply getting frustrated despite efforts. But goodness am I tired of speaking through the pauses in static and getting cut off by the constant bus horns beeping in the distance.

"I LOVE YOU!" He says in a yell, that I was sure all of Boston could hear. The truth was though I didn't want Boston to hear it, or the world to hear it for that matter, maybe at one point I did. Maybe at one point, I thought all that was important. No, what I wanted him was here next to me, whispering it in my ear, telling me secrets that weren't really secrets. But at least they were ours.

...

Conrad's POV:

It was the sadness in her voice that killed me. It had been two and a half months since I saw her, touched her, kissed her. And boy, did I miss her. I was tired of hearing her voice through a rectangular box. I wanted her lips on mine.

I arrived home after a quiet day at the office, mostly checkups, babies crying impatiently in the waiting room. I was greeted at the front door with the smell of garlic and other various spices, far too good to be coming from our usual box dinners. And sure enough, there was my dad with my mom's recipes wide open listening to Rachael Ray while he chopped.

"Hey," I said, slightly confused, "what's the occasion?" I don't believe my dad has cooked once in his entire life apart from this moment. In his defense, however, my mother would never let him, even if he wanted to. Which he never asked. The kitchen was her domain, her haven, and she insisted it be no other way. My mom loved cooking for my dad, preparing his meals, garnishing his plate, bringing him a glass of wine after he would come home. My mom treated him like a king, however, when the going got tough where was he? I'm not bitter, I'm not... I just can't help get past the fact that life is so damn unfair.

"Tonight son, it's you and me." He said nearly slicing his finger off, "stubborn little bitch", he joked. After the food was ready we sat down. I had to hand it to my dad everything came out quite decently and apart from the top of the roast which tasted a bit like shards and ashes everything else was fairly edible. And at that moment my dad lifted his half-drunk glass in the air, and I followed suit. 

"What are we toasting to?" I asked, I mean... it was just us, it seemed a little silly to be doing a formal toast. I had never seen my dad in this light before. I could certainly picture him and Jere however making a toast over an extra-large, pepperoni, simply due to the fact that Jere had always been a bit of a sentimental sap and my dad just loves to hear his own voice. But maybe I was wrong about my dad, maybe I was wrong that the one man that I thought could never learn to love someone as much as he loved himself- the man I feared I would become- had changed. 

Everybody changes.

"Conrad put down the guitar and stared off into space moodily. "She said I changed."

"And did you?"

"I don't know. Everybody changes. You did."

"How did I change?"

He shrugged and picked up his guitar again. "Like I said everybody changes."

My dad cleared his throat, "Here's to new beginnings. Here's to you my son sitting in front of me, no longer a child anymore but instead a married man, expecting a child of his own. I know your mother would be just as proud as I am." I let our glasses cling together. And a small part of me couldn't help but smile that despite my promise long ago that I wasn't living for this man anymore, all that was forgotten in that fragment of a second when I somehow became my sixteen-year-old self. Pleasing him, no matter what sport he thought I'd be good at, what career path he wanted me to take, or person he envisioned me becoming was all that mattered. And it made me happy to know that I had finally done it.

We talked from everything from the weather, to how my placement at the hospital was going, to the baby and Belly. As the night got further and further, and the wine became lower and my dad certainly became easier to talk to. At least until it casually slips out that he, my father, has a new girlfriend. My dad doesn't even know he had said it either and continues to chat on. I notice though. I can't help but notice. With great difficulty I try to carry on as if I hadn't though, I just continue nodding. Both desperately trying to ignore everything, this whole conversation- situation, yet simultaneously clinging onto every word.

"She really nice." I nod.

"She's a fantastic cook, even took a few culinary classes. She'll teach you a lot." I nod.

"She also has two boys. Cayden and Dimitri. I think you'll really hit it off with them, Cayden in university at Harvard for a football scholarship. Maybe next time he's in town you two can toss the ball around." 

I nod. 

"He's studying to be a lawyer, wouldn't be so good to have a lawyer in the family?" 

I nod. 

"Maybe you could bring him up to Cousins with you next time you go, you can get him to help you fix the roof while you're at it, that kid's handy with tools plus I'm sure he and Belly will get along nicely." 

I nod. 

"He'll make friends with anybody, kid's a people pleaser he is, an attitude like his will get him far in life." I nod. "And then the common folk like us will be watching guys like him on the news, huh Conrad," he jokes and I nod for what feels like the hundredth time.

"And she really wants to meet you and Jere, I told her so much about you guys."

I nod.

"Conrad..." He pauses, "I'm not trying to replace your mom." 

Then I pause. I physically can't.

"I know," I say, while my dad gulps down the last of the merlot still completely oblivious to the entirety of the situation.

You're replacing me.

The son who couldn't live up to your expectations in the end. The son at the end of the day would always run to his mother's side. The son who failed you. So maybe, not everybody changes after all.

...