The trinket box now had an intricate pink bow of interwoven loops on top. “It’s perfect!” Cameron breathed. “You really are amazing.”
“With our combined talents, we’re an unstoppable team. Hurry up and graduate from high school so I can make you my business partner.”
“I would love that.” The smile faded from his face as he thought of the reason that had brought him here. “Hey, remember when we were talking about my mom and her drinking?”
“Of course!” Charles said, instantly attentive.
“That support group you mentioned… Is it in town, by chance?”
“Yes, it is. The schedule might have changed since I last attended, but I believe I have the address and phone number around here somewhere. Shall I look?”
“It can wait,” Cameron said. “There’s something I want to try first. I’m going to talk to my dad. Anthony’s idea. I think he’s right.”
Charles eyed him with concern before opening his arms. “Come here,” he said, hugging him when Cameron stepped forward. “I wish I could go through these things for you. Why isn’t it possible for me to take the wheel, just for a little while? I’d get your entire life sorted out so you wouldn’t have to face such hardships.” His friend took a step back, a hand cupping Cameron’s cheek affectionately before he pulled away. “Then again, I’d be depriving you of crucial life lessons, and you do weather them with remarkable maturity.”
“I’m open to advice,” Cameron said.
“Speak from the heart. If that doesn’t get through to your father, then the onus is on him, not you. Remember that.”
“I will,” Cameron said. “Thanks.”
After they said goodbye and parted ways, Cameron wished—and not for the first time—that parents were something you got to choose. Charles would be like a mother and father rolled up into one. Not that Cameron would abandon his mom so easily. Nor was he ready to give up on her.
The evening was growing late when his thoughts returned to the subject once again. Mindy’s party had been nice. Her family had done everything to make it a special occasion. He felt encouraged by how well her parents got along, despite being divorced. In fact, had he not known, Cameron would have assumed they were still happily married. So when he returned home and found his father packing for another business trip, he decided the time was right.
“How long are you going to be gone?” Cameron asked, sitting on the bed next to an open suitcase.
“A week,” Trevor responded.
“Like a business week? Or a school week?”
His father seemed too distracted to hear him, but he answered after adding a stack of white T-shirts to the luggage. “I’ll be back on Sunday and fly out again on Monday.”
Cameron’s stomach sank. “You can’t be here for the entire weekend?”
“Jesus,” Trevor hissed under his breath. “You’re starting to sound like your mother!”
Cameron swallowed before forcing himself to press on. “She doesn’t do okay when you’re not here. Mom drinks. A lot.”
“I know,” Trevor said, returning to the open dresser. “That’s why I stopped answering her calls at night.”
Cameron’s mouth moved as he struggled to find words, and when they finally arrived, they were coarse with anger. “But that’s why she drinks so much! Because you aren’t there for her. Like, at all!”
Trevor slowly turned around, wearing an expression that warned he wasn’t in the mood.
Cameron wasn’t dissuaded. “Why?” he pleaded. “How come you can’t be here more?”
“I’ve gotta earn a living,” Trevor grumbled.
“Yeah, but you can at least come home for the weekends. Fly back on Friday night like you used to. Please!”
Trevor resumed packing.
Cameron waited for a response that never came. “Mom’s not the only one,” he tried. “I need you too.”
“For what?” Trevor demanded, hurling a bundle of dress socks to the floor. “What do you need from me, Cameron?”
Love. Support. Security. He didn’t bother saying these things aloud. Love had to be given freely, and his father seemed incapable of doing so. The only support they would get from him was financial, and Cameron could barely remember what a sense of security felt like.
Trevor sighed as he picked up the socks. “You’ll be out of the house in a couple more years. It’s time to grow up.”
“I guess we’ll manage on our own then,” Cameron said as he stood. “Have a nice trip.”
He walked down the hall to his bedroom, pausing at the door. He felt like going inside and freaking the hell out. But what good would that do? Instead he went downstairs, following the sound of the television to the living room, where his mom was on the couch. Cameron sat down and snuggled up close to her.
“What’s this?” Brenda asked with a laugh.
“Nothing. I just want to spend some time with you.”
“Oh! That’s nice. Did you have fun at your friend’s party?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said. “But it’s good to be home.”
“Do you want to see what else is on?” Brenda asked, offering him the remote.
“No. This is fine. Tell me what you’re watching.”
His mother did so, oblivious to the change that had occurred inside of him, because he was no longer going to waste time on his father, or wish that things were different. Instead he would focus on what he could do. Cameron had plenty of love for his mother, and she sure seemed to have endless love for him. They’d make it work. Somehow.
— — —
Ricky was on his best behavior at the breakfast table. He kept waiting for one of his parents to mention that an entire month had gone by. He’d been counting down the days, but his mom and dad seemed oblivious as they took turns yawning and sipping from their coffee mugs. Ricky leapt to his feet when their plates were cleared, taking them to the kitchen sink and rinsing off the ketchup and egg yolk. After they were placed in the dishwasher, he hurried back to the table.
“It’s March twenty-second,” he said helpfully. When this didn’t get the reaction he wanted, he added, “I’m not grounded anymore, right?”
His mother blinked in surprise before she nodded. “That’s correct, but there are going to be a few changes you’ll have to get used to.”
She didn’t say what, so he tested the waters. “I’d like to hang out with my friends after school.”
“That’s fine,” Ami replied. “Just let us know who you’ll be with, and give us a phone number where you can be reached.”
“What?” He recoiled at the idea. “How will that work if we’re out at the movies?”
“Cinemas have phone numbers too,” his mother said coolly.
“Okay.” Ricky hated the idea, but it was better than being grounded. “I’m going to hang out with Diego after school. I’ll give you the number for his pager. That way you can reach us no matter where we are.”
“We really should just buy him his own,” Ken interjected.
Ami held up a hand to silence her husband. “We’ve talked about this, Ricky. I don’t want you seeing Diego anymore.”