“Do you need me to get you anything?”

I shake my head as he continues to hold onto my hair.

“I think I puked in my hair,” I almost cry.

He leans in and I think he is smelling my hair. “It still smells like coconut.”

“Coconut? Oh, that’s my shampoo to stop me from looking like Diana Ross.”

This is awkward. Do I tell him to let go of my hair? Then I remember last night and how he so easily just ignored what happened between us. I shuffle my head to the side and loosen my hair from the grip of his hand.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

I stand up, avoiding eye contact, then walk out of the bathroom and head upstairs to escape him.

After spending a good hour thoroughly rinsing my hair, I head back downstairs, but halt just before the bottom step where the Jerk is standing, staring at the pictures on the wall.

“There’s a picture here of you and him,” he tells me, staring at the wall disconcertedly.

“Yes. He was my fiancé and my parents considered him family.”

“Do they still see him, talk to him?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked them. If they did, it wouldn’t bother me. Jason is great and it’s not fair for anyone to have to cut ties just because we aren’t romantically involved.”

His eyes are boring into the picture; unsure of why it seems to be bothering him so much, I move my gaze to the picture itself to see if I’m missing something. It’s still the same picture I saw yesterday. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Is there a problem? You look annoyed.”

Abruptly, he turns to face me. “How would you like it if you went to my parents’ house and saw a picture of me and my ex on the wall?”

“I wouldn’t care because it’s your ex. And since we aren’t together, I actually really wouldn’t give a goddamn shit. That would be more appropriate wording for it. Besides, you’re with Eloise now. If I did care for you, which I don’t in the slightest bit, you being with her would be like adding salt to a wound,” I rant.

He exhales with a slight snicker. “Well, I’m glad you cleared up the confusion.”

The Jerk walks away from the conversation and I see him disappear down the hall. How am I going to survive being on the same flight as him? Thank God we didn’t book seats next to each other because I don’t think I could handle any more of his childish outbursts.

We have an early meal before it’s time to pack and head out. With my suitcase ready to go, Mom knocks on the door before entering.

“Hey Mom, what’s up?”

She comes in carrying a small bag. “Here, honey. I wanted you to have this.”

Inside, I pull out a small yellow blanket. It’s soft and covered in colorful stripes. I press it against my cheek and a very familiar emotion overwhelms me. It smells a little like moth balls, but judging by the age of the blanket, it’s probably been sitting in some trunk in the attic.

“This was your blankie,” she tells me. “You carried this around with you everywhere you went until you were five.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I almost tear up. “What else is in the bag?”

“Oh! Here you go. I kept it all these years.”

She pulls out this yellow bottle-looking thing with a suction cap attached. For some unknown reason, I place the suction cap on my cheek until Mom informs me of its use. “That’s my breast pump.”

I throw it back at her. “Eww, Mom! I can’t use your breast pump!”

“Why not? It’s still in perfect condition.” She places it against her breast, mimicking the sucking motion.

“You know what, Mom? I’ll start a list right now. And a new breast pump can go on the top.”

“Have it your way. I just don’t know why you would waste money when this is in perfectly good working order.”

I don’t say another thing. Instead, I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. I don’t want to let go, frightened that the next time I see her I’ll be in the hospital bed pushing out a watermelon from my lemon-sized vagina.

“I know you’re scared, honey. I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

Letting out thin sobs, I nod my head, trying to translate my fears into words. “Just promise you’ll be there, Mom. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I promise. You won’t be alone.”

We let go of each other and even my mom’s eyes have gone glassy. She carries my suitcase downstairs where everyone else has already congregated on the porch.

Gemma and Melissa hug me and I’m sandwiched between them as they are promising to visit. They are quick to push me aside to fuss over their new favorite person. They exchange something with the Jerk—phone numbers, I suppose. Dad loads the car, then moves towards me to give me one of his big bear hugs.

“Take care of yourself, Poodle. We’ll see you when we get back from Fiji.”

“Oh, that’s right. Your second honeymoon.” I cringe.

“I’ve got a new bikini! I forgot to show you,” Mom says excitedly.

“It’s a quite a piece of string. I’m going to have to shoo those Fijian men away,” Dad jokes.

Gemma and I both groan at the same time before I walk towards the car and give my final wave goodbye.

“What do you mean the flight’s canceled?”

The crack of the thunder startles the both of us as we stand at the crowded check-in desk. The attendant gives us a dumb look. Haden is angry and slamming his fists on the counter to no avail. The line behind us is out the door and it appears everyone is as frustrated as we are.

Annoyed, I lean against the counter with my back to the attendant as she punches stuff into her computer.

“You okay?” Haden calms down enough to ask the question.

“Yeah, just tired.”

Apparently, due to this wretched storm, all flights are canceled. Haden is still mouthing off and I turn around and push him out of the way since he is getting nowhere with this.

“What are you going to do to compensate us? Accommodations for starters?” I take charge.

She clicks away on her computer and makes a few phone calls. A minute later we are booked at the hotel by the airport. According to her, it’s the last room available. Now it’s was my turn to panic.

“What do you mean, only one room?!” I raise my voice.

“Well, I assumed you were a cou—”

I interrupt her. “Never assume! It makes an ass—”

Haden places his hand on my shoulder. “Okay, calm down,” he says coolly. “No big deal, you take the bed and I’ll take the chair.”

“You can’t sleep in a chair, Haden.”

“I don’t think we should be in the same bed…”

She is staring wide-eyed at us, watching our conversation unfold. Unable to control my anger once again, I unleash my frustrations on her. “See, that’s why you don’t assume!”

I grab the tickets she issues us for the next flight and walk away without thanking her.

Geez Presley, calm the hormones down. A growl escapes me and I think it’s my anger, but it turns out to be my stomach. This day—or should I say weekend—has gone from terrible to disastrous.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” Haden suggests, taking both our bags and walking towards the exit.

We head outside the airport and straight to the hotel across the road. It is no five-star, but it’s acceptable for a night’s rest.

“You want to go to the restaurant?” he asks.

“Room service. We’ve got vouchers.” I smile in delight.

As soon as we settle in, I’m on the phone with the restaurant, ordering everything on the menu. And I mean everything. Haden announces that he is going to change in the bathroom. Moments later he emerges with his PJ bottoms on and no top.

“Do you always parade around shirtless?” I pry, trying to come off annoyed rather than interested.

“Does it bother you?”

“No… yes… it must be your generation,” I say, mostly to myself.

“I’m sure you oldies do it. Try it some time? Why not now?” he says with an inviting smirk.