THE MORNING SUNSHINE burns my vision. I squint and scoot up, trying to right my world. Where am I? is the first, scary thought that I process. I take in the champagne comforter, my two legs underneath it, my hair pulled back into a nice pony, and little flashes of last night course through me.
Lo carried me from the bathroom to the bed, tucking me in and keeping my nasty hair out of my mouth. Last night, I think I snatched a bottle of whiskey right from his hands. Even as he protested, I guzzled the liquor like an idiot. I’m that kind of drunk.
I let out a tired, mortified groan. When an antagonizing voice doesn’t make fun of my bear-like noise, I frown and glance at the right side of the bed. Empty, except for an unmistakable butt print. He has a good ass. I stuff my face in the pillow and groan louder. I hate that I think that.
I try not to dwell on whatever stupid things I said or may have done while intoxicated. I rub my eyes and sit up, but a piece of paper safety-pinned to my shirt, which is actually his shirt, distracts me. He changed my clothes? I think at first. Must have puked on the other tee.
My cheeks rose as I pluck the paper off and scan it. The letter is scrawled so fast it looks half in cursive. My eyes widen in horror.
“What the hell?”
Parents are here. Get the fuck up.
What are my parents doing here? Do they know Lo and I aren’t really together? Do they think Lo’s an alcoholic? Are they going to send him to rehab?
I stand on two quaking feet and find a glass of water and four aspirin on the desk. Gratefully, I pop them and begin to search for clothes I can wear. His closet doesn’t have a wide selection, but I store a few emergency outfits just in case of the worst.
I hop into a lavender day dress that will impress my mother, considering my greasy hair will dock me a couple of points. After brushing my teeth four times, rolling a stick of deodorant on, and pinching my cheeks for natural blush, I gain the courage to leave the sanctuary of Lo’s bedroom.
I take a sharp breath, voices echoing off the hallway walls from the living room.
“Where is she, Loren? The morning is almost gone,” my mother complains. I wish he could use the “she’s ill” excuse, but for the Calloways, ill requires a hospital visit and an extended stay. Otherwise, you’re fit to enter the world of the living.
“I’ll go check on her,” Lo says, voice tight.
I step into the living room as he rises from the gray couch. “Ah, there she is,” my father exclaims with a bright smile. My mother and Daisy sit on the gray-stitched couch, both sporting pretty floral dresses. Everyone stands as I enter, as though I’m a queen or something. But then I spot the Hermes suitcases and luggage bags leaning against the wall. They’re a matching set. Lo’s and mine.
What the hell is going on? They know, don’t they? They’re sending us away! Maybe to a far off rehabilitation center. We’ll be apart. Alone. For real.
Just as I put a shaking hand to my mouth, seconds from puking again, Lo rushes to my side and speaks. “It’s your father’s birthday weekend.”
I try to breathe. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
My mother fingers her pearls that choke her bony neck. “For goodness sake, Lily, I’ve been reminding you for months. We’re taking the yacht to the Bahamas to celebrate.”
I’ve never been good with dates or other peoples’ schedules. I turn to Daisy who seems to be looking everywhere but at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lo’s cheekbones sharpen, his jaw clenching, and I realize I’ve missed something. Daisy clears her throat, but her eyes train on the carpet. “I knew you would have made some sort of excuse…and we all agreed…” she trials off.
It hits me. She lied. She didn’t want to be here last night. I wasn’t really on her list of sisters to call for help. This was a set up.
“We knew you would forget,” my mother clarifies. “This is an important trip for your father. He’s been working hard, and we want our entire family present. If that meant having Daisy spend the night so you can’t run off in the morning, then so be it. But now you’re awake and we have to go. Rose and Poppy are already waiting at the plane.” I assume we have to fly to Florida in order to take the yacht to the Bahamas.
My head spins, excuses resting on the tip of my tongue, anything to avoid a family event. Even if it is my father’s birthday, they should have never tricked me into going.
Lo runs his hand along my arm. “You okay?” he whispers so only I can hear. Maybe he thinks I’m going to throw up again.
I nod even though the news slapped me in the face.
He says, “Put on a smile. You look horrified, Lil.”
I do as he requests, offering my mother a small one. Her shoulders stay tense, but her lips twitch in acceptance. Good enough.
It isn’t until we leave the apartment that it dawns on me. I haven’t had sex in over twenty-four hours, and Lo hasn’t consumed his usual amount of alcohol since he watched me all night. And we’re about to be sequestered on a boat. With my family.
This just got a whole hell of a lot worse.
