Beautiful Disaster (33 page)

He tilted his head. “That's not what I meant, Pidge, c'mon. We all want you there. That's all I'm sayin'.”

“You haven't told them about us, have you?” I said the words in the most accusatory tone I could manage.

He fidgeted for a moment, and then shook his head. “Dad would ask why, and I'm not ready to talk to him about it. I'd never hear the end of how stupid I am. Please come, Pidge.”

“I have to put the turkey in at six in the morning. We'd have to leave here by five…”

“Or we could stay there.”

My eyebrows shot up. “No way! It's bad enough that I'm going to have to lie to your family and pretend we're still together.”

“You act like I'm asking you to light yourself on fire.”

“You should have told them!”

“I will. After Thanksgiving…I'll tell them.”

I sighed, looking away. “If you promise me that this isn't some stunt to try and get back together, I'll do it.”

He nodded. “I promise.”

Although he was trying to hide it, I could see a spark in his eyes. I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile. “I'll see you at five.”

Travis leaned down to kiss my cheek, his lips lingering on my skin. “Thanks, Pigeon.”

America and Shepley met me at the door of the cafeteria and we walked in together. I yanked the silverware from its holder and then dropped my plate onto the tray.

“What's with you, Abby?” America asked.

“I'm not coming with you guys tomorrow.”

Shepley's mouth fell open. “You're going to the Maddoxes?”

America's eyes darted to mine. “You're what?”

I sighed and shoved my campus ID at the cashier. “I promised Trav I'd go when we were on the plane, and he told them all I'd be there.”

“In his defense,” Shepley began, “he really didn't think you guys were gonna break up. He thought you'd come around. It was too late by the time he figured out that you were serious.”

“That's bullshit, Shep and you know it,” America seethed. “You don't have to go if you don't want to, Abby.”

She was right. It wasn't as if I didn't have a choice. But I couldn't do that to Travis. Not even if I hated him. And I didn't.

“If I don't go, he'll have to explain to them why I didn't show, and I don't want to ruin his Thanksgiving. They're all coming home thinking I'm going to be there.”

Shepley smiled. “They all really like you, Abby. Jim was just talking to my dad about you the other day.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“Abby's right,” Shepley said. “If she doesn't go, Jim will spend the day bitching at Trav. There's no sense in ruining their day.”

America put her arm around my shoulders. “You can still come with us. You're not with him anymore. You don't have to keep saving him.”

“I know, Mare. But it's the right thing to do.”

· · ·

The sun melted into the buildings outside the window, and I stood in front of my mirror, brushing my hair while trying to decide how I was going to go about pretending with Travis. “It's just one day, Abby. You can handle one day,” I said to the mirror.

Pretending had never been a problem for me; it was what was going to happen while we were pretending that I was worried about. When Travis dropped me off after dinner, I was going to have to make a decision. A decision that would be skewed by a false sense of happiness we would portray for his family.

Knock, knock.

I turned, looking at the door. Kara hadn't been back to our room all evening, and I knew that America and Shepley were already on the road. I couldn't imagine who it could be. I set my brush on the table and pulled open the door.

“Travis,” I breathed.

“Are you ready?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Ready for what?”

“You said pick you up at five.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I meant five in the morning!”

“Oh. I guess I should call Dad and let him know we won't be staying after all.”

“Travis!” I wailed.

“I brought Shep's car so we didn't have to deal with our bags on the bike. There's a spare bedroom you can crash in. We can watch a movie or—”

“I'm not staying at your dad's!”

His face fell. “Okay. I'll uh…I'll see you in the morning.”

He took a step back and I shut the door, leaning against it. Every emotion I had weaved in and out of my insides, and I heaved an exasperated sigh. With Travis's disappointed expression fresh on my mind, I pulled open the door and stepped out, seeing that he was slowly walking down the hall, dialing his phone.

“Travis, wait.” He flipped around and the hopeful look in his eyes made my chest ache. “Give me a minute to pack a few things.”

A relieved, appreciative smile spread across his face and he followed me to my room, watching me shove a few things in a bag from the doorway.

“I still love you, Pidge.”

I didn't look up. “Don't. I'm not doing this for you.”

He sucked in a breath. “I know.”

We rode in silence to his dad's house. The car felt charged with nervous energy, and it was hard to sit still against the cold leather seats. Once we arrived, Trenton and Jim walked out onto the porch, all smiles. Travis carried our bags from the car, and Jim patted his back.

“Good to see ya, son.” His smiled broadened when he looked at me. “Abby Abernathy. We're looking forward to dinner tomorrow. It's been a long time since…Well. It's been a long time.”

I nodded and followed Travis into the house. Jim rested his hand on his protruding belly and grinned. “I set you two up in the guest bedroom, Trav. I didn't figure you would wanna fight with the twin in your room.”

I looked to Travis. It was difficult watching him struggle to speak. “Abby's uh … she's going to uh … going to take the guest room. I'm going to crash in mine.”

Trenton made a face. “Why? She's been staying at your apartment, hasn't she?”

“Not lately,” he said, desperately trying to avoid the truth.

Jim and Trenton traded glances. “Thomas's room has been storage for years now, so I was going to let him take your room. I guess he can sleep on the couch,” Jim said, looking to the ratty, discolored cushions in the living room.

“Don't worry about it, Jim. We were just trying to be respectful,” I said, touching his arm.

His laughter bellowed throughout the house, and he patted my hand. “You've met my sons, Abby. You should know it's damn near impossible to offend me.”

Travis nodded toward the stairs, and I followed him. He pushed open the door with his foot and sat our bags on the floor, looking at the bed and then turning to me. The room was lined in brown paneling, the brown carpet beyond normal wear and tear. The walls were a dirty white, the paint peeling in places. I saw only one frame on the wall; enclosed was a picture of Jim and Travis's mother. The background was a generic portrait-studio blue; the
couple sported feathered hair and young, smiling faces. It must have been taken before they had the boys; neither of them could have been older than twenty.

“I'm sorry, Pidge. I'll sleep on the floor.”

“Damn straight you will,” I said, pulling my hair into a ponytail. “I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

He sat on the bed and rubbed his face in frustration. “This is going to be a fucking mess. I don't know what I was thinking.”

“I know exactly what you were thinking. I'm not stupid, Travis.”

He looked up at me and smiled. “But you still came.”

“I have to get everything ready for tomorrow,” I said, opening the door.

Travis stood up. “I'll help you.”

We peeled a mountain of potatoes, cut up vegetables, set out the turkey to thaw, and started the piecrusts. The first hour was more than uncomfortable, but when the twins arrived, everyone seemed to congregate in the kitchen. Jim told stories about each of his boys, and we laughed about tales of earlier disastrous Thanksgivings when they attempted to do something other than order pizza.

“Diane was a hell of a cook,” Jim mused. “Trav doesn't remember, but there was no sense trying after she passed.”

“No pressure, Abby,” Trenton said. He chuckled, and then grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Let's get out the cards. I want to try to make back some of my money that Abby took.”

Jim waved his finger at his son. “No poker this weekend, Trent. I brought down the dominoes; go set those up. No betting, dammit. I mean it.”

Trenton shook his head. “All right, old man, all right.” Travis's brothers meandered from the kitchen, and Trent followed, stopping to look back. “C'mon, Trav.”

“I'm helping Pidge.”

“There's not much more to do, baby,” I said. “Go ahead.”

His eyes softened at my words, and he touched my hip. “You sure?”

I nodded and he leaned over to kiss my cheek, squeezing my hip with his fingers before following Trenton into the game room.

Jim watched his sons file out of the doorway, shaking his head and smiling. “This is incredible what you're doing, Abby. I don't think you realize how much we all appreciate it.”

“It was Trav's idea. I'm glad I could help.”

His large frame settled against the counter, taking a swig of his beer while he pondered his next words. “You and Travis haven't talked much. You having problems?”

I squeezed the dish soap into the sink as it filled with hot water, trying to think of something to say that wasn't a bald-faced lie. “Things are a little different, I guess.”

“That's what I thought. You have to be patient with him. Travis doesn't remember much about it, but he was close to his mom, and after we lost her he was never the same. I thought he'd grow out of it, you know, with him being so young. It was hard on
all of us, but Trav…he quit trying to love people after that. I was surprised that he brought you here. The way he acts around you, the way he looks at you … I knew you were somethin' special.”

I smiled, but kept my eyes on the dishes I was scrubbing.

“Travis'll have a hard time. He's going to make a lot of mistakes. He grew up around a bunch of motherless boys and a lonely, grouchy old man for a father. We were all a little lost after Diane died, and I guess I didn't help the boys cope the way I should have.

“I know it's hard not to blame him, but you have to love him, anyway, Abby. You're the only woman he's loved besides his mother. I don't know what it'll do to him if you leave him, too.”

I swallowed back the tears and nodded, unable to reply. Jim rested his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I've never seen him smile the way he does when he's with you. I hope all my boys have an Abby one day.”

His footsteps faded down the hallway and I gripped the edge of the sink, trying to catch my breath. I knew spending the holiday with Travis and his family would be difficult, but I didn't think my heart would be broken all over again. The men joked and laughed in the next room as I washed and dried the dishes, putting them away. I cleaned the kitchen and then washed my hands, making my way to the stairs for the night.

Travis grabbed my hand. “It's early, Pidge. You're not going to bed, are ya?”

“It's been a long day. I'm tired.”

“We were getting ready to watch a movie. Why don't you come back down and hang out?”

I looked up the stairs and then down to his hopeful smile. “Okay.”

He led me by the hand to the couch, and we sat together as the opening credits rolled.

“Shut off that light, Taylor,” Jim ordered.

Travis reached his arm behind me, resting his arm on the back of the couch. He was trying to keep up pretenses while appeasing me. He had been careful not to take advantage of the situation, and I found myself conflicted, both grateful and disappointed. Sitting so close to him, smelling the mixture of tobacco and his cologne, it was very difficult for me to keep my distance, both physically and emotionally. Just as I had feared, my resolve was wavering. I struggled to block out everything Jim had said in the kitchen.

Halfway through the movie, the front door flew open and Thomas rounded the corner, bags in hand.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” he said, setting his luggage on the floor.

Jim stood up and hugged his oldest son, and everyone but Travis stood to greet him.

“You're not going to say hi to Thomas?” I whispered.

He didn't look at me when he spoke, watching his family hug and laugh. “I got one night with you. I'm not going to waste a second of it.”

“Hi, there, Abby. It's good to see you again,” Thomas smiled.

Travis touched my knee with his hand and I looked down and then to Travis. Noticing my
expression, Travis took his hand off my leg and interlocked his fingers in his lap.

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?” Thomas asked.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Travis grumbled.

The mood in the room shifted, and I felt all eyes on me, waiting for an explanation. I smiled nervously and took Travis's hand into both of mine.

“We're just tired. We've been working all evening on the food,” I said, leaning my head against Travis's shoulder.

He looked down at our hands and then squeezed, his eyebrows pulling in a bit.

“Speaking of tired, I'm exhausted,” I breathed. “I'm gonna head to bed, baby.” I looked to everyone else. “Good night, guys.”

“Night, sis,” Jim said.

Travis's brothers all bade me goodnight, and I headed up the stairs.

“I'm gonna turn in, too,” I heard Travis say.

“I bet you are,” Trenton teased.

“Lucky bastard,” Tyler grumbled.

“Hey. We're not going to talk about your sister like that,” Jim warned.

My stomach sank. The only real family I'd had in years was America's parents, and although Mark and Pam had always looked out for me with true kindness, they were borrowed. The six unruly, foulmouthed, loveable men downstairs had welcomed me with open arms, and tomorrow I would tell them goodbye for the last time.