The Way Back Page 3

  And then, one night about a month into her ninety days, she woke up and knew, even while she lay in bed staring at the little toy fox she’d placed beside the alarm clock that now blinked 3:32 AM, that it was time to tell Milo. Something had shifted, and now the decision to tell him seemed like the most obvious thing in the world. She could hardly believe that she hadn’t already told him. What had she been thinking?

  And then she remembered all the other decisions that she hadn’t made. The ones she was pushing out of her mind. Ignoring.

  The only one that was easy now was not getting high.

  In case she kept the baby.

  For herself. Or to give away.

  Too hard to think about.

  Colby put the fox into her pocket and slipped past her roommates and down the hall to the lounge. There was a little room off to one side, just big enough for a couch, a side table and a lamp. The couch was heaped with pillows and had a knitted throw at one end. There was a box of Kleenex on the table, and a notepad and pen.

  This was where people could go to get in touch with their family and friends. Have conversations in private. Make amends over the phone, if they were at that step in the twelve-step meetings they had around the campfire each night.

  People were supposed to book the room, in half-hour chunks. Colby hadn’t. But it was empty. She slipped into the room and shut the door. She opened the window and took a deep breath of the salty sea breeze. The moon was nearly full, high and glowing above the water. Colby curled up on the couch and pulled the throw over her lap. She stared at the moon.

  She sat like that for a few moments, holding her cell phone in her hand.

  Milo probably wasn’t even home. Or if he was, he probably had a date. Colby closed her eyes and imagined him in his bed. He lived in the West End, in a tiny loft apartment no bigger than Gram’s living room.

  His bed was up a set of stairs, in the loft part, which was above the kitchen. It was a new bed frame but made to look like one of those really old-fashioned wrought-iron ones. Milo had an expensive mattress that one of his boyfriends had bought for him. At least, Colby thought it was an actual boyfriend, not one of the men who just paid him for sex.

  Colby squeezed her eyes tight, pushing away the image of Milo and some old guy having sex. She hated that he made money that way.

  Before she lost her will, Colby brought her phone to her ear and listened as it rang. And rang. And rang.

  She got his message. “You’ve reached the blazing-hot saddle of Milo. Leave me your details and we can arrange for you to come for a good time.”

  Colby hung up.

  She was just about to try him again when her phone rang.

  “Where the hell is this Meadow Farm prison?” Milo yawned. “Is it awful? Do you hate it? Can I come rescue you? I’m dating this guy who has a car. Like, a nice car. That actually works. Not like that piece of crap Timothy had.”

  “Hi, Milo.”

  “Hi, Colby.” Milo yawned again. “Kiss, kiss.”

  “Were you sleeping?” asked Colby.

  “Yeah. Weird, right? Totally crashed.”

  “Binge?”

  “Never mind,” he said. Colby could hear him lighting a cigarette. He took a long pull and spoke as he exhaled. “Tell me everything about the exciting life of a teenage girl in rehab. Have you met a big ol’ dyke and jumped the fence?”

  “Big ol’ dyke, yes. No fence jumping.”

  “Deets. I want to know everything.”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Colby pulled at a loose thread in the throw. She wound it around her finger.

  “Are you alone?” Colby winced, not wanting to know if he wasn’t.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Are you lying?”

  “No, actually.” Another drag of his cigarette. “I was out until 2:00 am, and then I kicked Topher out. My new boyfriend. Topher. His name is actually Christopher. But everyone calls him Topher. I totally had to sleep. I hadn’t slept in, like, five days.”

  “High much?”

  “Let’s not talk about that. You’re in rehab. Oh my god! Rehab! What the hell, Cole? What are you doing in rehab? Gram told me and I was, like, what the hell is Colby doing rehab for? And Gram said you’d tell me in good time.”

  “Good time. Right.”

  “Good time. So spill.”

  “Oh, Milo.” Suddenly, Colby was crying. Full-on sobbing. She grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Wow.” A long silence. “Colby. Jesus.” Milo’s tone was lower now. Serious. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Oh my god.” Milo said the words slowly. “Who? Please tell me it’s not Otto. You didn’t sleep with him after you dumped him. Did you? Break-up sex is so overrated. I am so not a believer in break-up sex.”

  “No. Not Otto.”

  “Was it that guy we met at the club?” Milo laughed. “The one with the nose?”

  He meant the guy who’d been grinding Colby’s ass on the dance floor. He was hot, and it was true that the guy and Colby had left together. But only as far as the bus stop, where Colby had been overcome by a wave of nausea. Which made sense now.

  Besides, Colby had already told Milo all of that.

  Milo knew she hadn’t slept with him.

  Either he was slow figuring it out, or he already had and didn’t want to say it. Then he did.

  “Not from that one time?”

  “Yes. From that one time.”

  “Not me.”

  “Yes, Milo. You.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes way.”

  “No way! Otto. It has to be Otto’s.”

  “It’s not Otto’s. After I dumped him, I got my period. Then you and I messed around. And now I’m pregnant.”

  “But I’m gay.”

  “And I’m pregnant.”

  “I can’t be a dad!”

  “Hang on, Milo.” Colby stopped crying. She shifted from sad to mad in barely an instant. “No one’s asking you to be a dad.”

  “But you’re pregnant. With a baby. And you’ve just told me that I’m the dad.”

  “Consider yourself a sperm donor, if that helps. Whatever! I’m not even keeping it.”

  “You cannot—”

  “I can so!”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “I totally WOULD. I’ve got two more weeks to decide.”

  The way they were arguing back and forth reminded her of when they were kids. They’d fought all the time. Usually over Gigi. Or the remote control. Both she and Milo always cared deeply about the outcome, no matter what they were fighting about. That much hadn’t seemed to change.

  “Cole?” Milo barely whispered. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

  “For what? For having sex with me?” Colby was only sorry that it hadn’t made Milo straight.

  “We shouldn’t have had sex. I know how you feel about me—”

  “Shut up, Milo.” Colby dropped her head into her hands. “I’m not in love with you. Not anymore.”

  “But you are,” Milo said quietly. “And that’s okay. I love you, Colby. Just not romantically.”

  Someone knocked on the door. When Colby didn’t answer, they knocked louder, and then they started banging on the door.

  “Get out! I’ve got it booked!” It was Jordan. Who hadn’t gotten any nicer as she got more sober.

  And she was not pregnant.

  Or a mom.

  But her mother had pulled some strings and got her in anyway.

  Since barfing on her in the van, Colby had learned that Jordan was a drunk and a cutter.

  “Hurry up!” Jordan bellowed. “GET OUT.”

  “I have to go,” Colby whispered.

  “What are you going to do?” Milo asked.

  “I don’t know.” There was a long pause, during which Colby could practically hear everything that Milo was not saying out loud.

  Jordan ba
nged harder on the door. “I know it’s you in there, Barfy McBarfyson. Get the hell out.”

  “Give me a minute, all right?” Colby kicked the door. “Milo?”

  “Okay, Cole.” Milo sighed. “You decide. Of course it’s up to you. It’s your body. But let me know. Okay?”

  His kind words made Colby cry even harder. She wanted him to scream at her. She wanted him to lecture her on how wrong abortion was. She wanted him to be an asshole and demand a paternity test. She wanted him to make her decision easier. Instead, he was making it harder. Just by being nice.

  “I will.” Colby blew her nose. “I have to go.”

  “Call me later?”

  More banging on the door.

  “I will.”

  “Love you, Colby.”

  “But not in that way.”

  “No, not in that way. Sorry.”

  “Love you too, Milo.” Colby laughed. “Totally in that way.”

  When Colby opened the door, Jordan’s face was twisted in anger. But all Colby wanted was a hug, and Jordan was the first person she saw. She flung herself at Jordan and wrapped her arms around her. Jordan stood stiff as a board for a few moments, and then she relaxed and hugged Colby back. Then the two of them went into the little room and shut the door, and Colby told Jordan everything.

  home again

  While it was true that Jordan wasn’t particularly the sweetest person in the world, she was ace at being a friend. When Colby finally decided to keep the baby, Jordan didn’t try to talk her out of it. She just listened while Colby went on and on about how she couldn’t abort something that she and Milo had made together, even if it was totally screwed up and she might be a shitty mom. Jordan just patted her back and handed her tissues and told her that she’d be an amazing mama.

  Jordan took care of Colby for the rest of the time they were at Meadow Farm. The other girls joked about how Colby was Jordan’s “prison wife,” and their counselors were always going on about how “relations” between girls in rehab were not okay. But it wasn’t like that. Jordan was more like a very protective older brother. Nothing more. She looked out for Colby. She even managed to arrange for them to leave at the same time, so they could share the van ride back.

  When the van pulled up in front of Gram’s house, Jordan got out too.

  “I got to meet this Gigi chick,” she said as she hauled her duffel bag out of the trunk.

  Rehab had been good for getting Jordan clean, but she’d put on weight and was even heavier now. Her clothes were too snug, so she was wearing old sweat-pants for the ride home. Colby was going to take her to Value Village the next day.

  Gigi flung open the front door and ran down the stairs.

  “You’re home!” She grabbed Colby and spun her around. “I missed you!”

  “I missed you too.” Colby hugged Gigi tight for a long time. “Hey, I want you to meet Jordan.”

  Gigi and Jordan had talked on the phone a few times when Gigi had called Colby (after she gave up on her no-contact stubbornness), but now Gigi frowned at her.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “So, where do you live?”

  “My mom lives in Burnaby.” Jordan pulled out a cigarette and rolled it between her fingertips. “Not sure that I’m going to go back there though.”

  “You can’t stay here.”

  “I know.” Jordan retreated to the end of the yard and lit her cigarette. “I just wanted to meet you, that’s all.” Then she turned to the street so that the smoke wouldn’t go in Colby’s direction.

  Gigi folded her arms and took a step back. She looked Colby up and down.

  “You don’t even really look pregnant.”

  “I totally do.” Colby lifted her shirt. She was four months pregnant now. She had a belly, small and low-slung, just a swelling under her belly button.

  “You just look fatter.” Gigi said it loudly, for Jordan’s benefit.

  Jordan pretended not to hear, but Colby noticed her shoulders tense.

  “Thanks, Gigi. That’s a lovely thing to say.”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  “You look great?”

  “You do, actually. All healthy and shit.”

  “I love you, Gigi.” Colby hugged Gigi again.

  “I love you too.” Gigi kissed her on the cheek. “And your bastard baby.”

  Colby lifted her shirt again and put Gigi’s hand on her belly. “I’m starting to feel it kick. Just sometimes. Or maybe it’s gas. I don’t know. Jordan looked it up. I’m supposed to start feeling flutters around now.”

  Gigi pulled her hand away. “I love you, but I don’t want to feel some alien creature trying to claw its way out.”

  “Cool.” Colby glanced at the porch. Gram stood in the doorway, a dishtowel tucked into the waistband of her nylon pants. She blew Colby a kiss. “Gram!” Colby ran up the steps and hugged her. “So good to see you!”

  Even as she hugged Gram, though, Colby scanned the living room behind her.

  No sign of Milo.

  She hadn’t seen Milo since before she’d found out that she was pregnant. Despite all the phone calls and texts, she was nervous about actually seeing him. Like it’d make the baby real in a whole new, uncomfortable way.

  He’d texted her and said he would be there when she got to Gram’s, but Colby wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t. They were going to tell Gram and Gigi that night.

  That he was the dad.

  But Milo was never on time. Not ever. She did wish that he’d managed to be on time just this once, because waiting was worse.

  Gram insisted on Jordan staying for supper. Milo texted that he was on his way and would make it there by the time the lasagna was ready to come out of the oven. He wasn’t though. He didn’t get there until almost nine o’clock, just as Jordan was getting ready to catch a bus to Burnaby. He knocked on the front door, which was when Colby realized he was not as okay about everything as he constantly claimed to be when they talked on the phone. Otherwise he would’ve walked right in like he always did. Was he high? He was only a week out of detox, so there was a good chance. He hadn’t had three months, like Colby and Jordan. He’d had forty-eight hours and willpower.

  Colby opened the door. Milo stood there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He handed them to her and then went down on one knee. He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. Inside was a ring with a tiny diamond set in the middle.

  “Colby.” He looked up at her, not smiling. “Will you marry me?”

  “Are you high?” Colby asked.

  “Totally straight.” He laughed. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Oh, this is going to be good.” Jordan rubbed her hands together. “Really good.”

  Colby stared at him. She had no idea what to say. What to do next.

  Gigi appeared behind Colby. “What the hell are you doing, Milo?”

  “Asking Colby to marry me.” He shifted from one knee to the other.

  Colby felt the baby flutter. “Milo—”

  “Clearly, detox didn’t stick. What are you on? Why the hell would you ask Colby to—” Gigi suddenly stopped talking.

  “I’m not high.”

  “Oh. I see.” Gigi’s hand drifted to her mouth. She glanced at Colby, then Milo. “I get it.” She nodded. “I totally get it now.”

  “I—” Colby swallowed. She didn’t know what to say.

  “We—” Milo went pale.

  Gram came into the room and saw Milo on one knee. “Milo? What’s going on? Why are you—”

  “Never mind. It was a dumb idea.” Milo snapped the box shut and stood up. But it was too late.

  “Praise God!” Gram clapped her hands. “You’re not a gay anymore!”

  “Gram, it’s not what you think.”

  Gram grabbed Milo’s hands and brought them to her lips and kissed them. “My sweet boy. Such a big heart. You will raise the baby like it’s your own. You’ll be so happy together. You’ve always loved Colby. And she
has always loved you. A perfect match!”

  “It is not a perfect match.” Gigi grabbed Gram’s arm. “Milo is gay, Gram. Nothing has changed about that.”

  “But he asked Colby to marry him.”

  “I’m still ‘a gay,’ Gram.” Milo spoke quietly. “Gigi’s right.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Jordan guffawed from the couch. “Just spit it out, someone!”

  “Milo is—” Colby started.

  “I’m the—” Milo tried.

  “You screwed him. You screwed my brother.” Gigi glared at Colby. And then at Milo. “What the hell, Milo?”

  “No!” Gram put her hands over her ears and fled toward the kitchen. “I don’t want to hear any of this. No!” She stopped at the edge of the room. “But if you had sex with Colby, then you’re not gay. Right?”

  Milo shook his head. “Still gay, Gram. It was a mistake.”

  “Milo is still gay. He is the father of my baby. We made a big mistake.” Colby felt a stab of pain at the word mistake, but he was right. “We’re not going to get married.”

  “But we could. Why not?” Milo stood up. He closed the ring box. “Like, a show marriage, you know? It’d be fun.”

  “Pretend to be married?” Gram gasped. “No, marriage is a sacred union. I cannot listen to this!” With that, she stomped out of the room. A moment later she was slamming pots and pans around, muttering angrily to herself.

  “Right.” Milo laughed. “Says the woman with three ex-husbands.”

  “Gram’s right,” Colby said. “I want to actually get married someday. For real.”

  “Me too! Then we could just get divorced. People get divorced all the time. Come on, Colby. We could totally have fun with this. Mess with people’s heads.”

  “Haven’t you done that enough?” Gigi piped in.

  “We’re not getting married, Milo.”

  “I just want to do the right thing.”

  “Oh, sure.” Gigi laughed. “The right thing would’ve been not sticking your dick where it doesn’t belong.”

  Milo and Colby looked at each other. They grinned. Then Colby giggled, and so did Milo. And within seconds, they were laughing so hard Colby though she might pee herself.