Notes: ~12,000 words, several crises of self-confidence, pep-talks from angels on tumblr, and so many other things...I can now present to you Chapter Seven of Cold Cape Cod Clams.
One line in this chapter is based off of a text featured on Texts from Last Night, because I'm shameless and couldn't resist.
In this chapter, the karaoke party continues, Riley feels conflicted, and Cory brings his own special touch to the party.
It takes a moment to register in Riley's brain. Lucas' lips are on hers. Lucas' lips are on hers. His one hand is at the back of her head, gripping her hair with his fingers. His other hand is on her elbow, drawing her closer still.
She and Lucas are kissing.
And not on the cheek like she thought might be necessary to maintain their charade, or even a quick peck on the lips that had been considered and quickly filed in the 'only in your wildest dreams Riley, now focus!' part of her brain. This is full-on kissing.
'Part your lips, go weak in the knees, and feel your heart freeze in your chest before it rushes back into action with a fluttery electric fervor' kissing.
When did this become her life?
It's all too easy for Riley to melt into the moment (this is not the way she's used to being kissed) and to forget where they are and what they're actually doing. At least until the raucous applause and wolf-whistles of the crowd grow so loud that they cut through the pleasant passion-fog rising in her head. After that it takes all of half a heartbeat for Riley to remember they're on stage, singing karaoke at Auggie and Ava's party, that the only members of her family not present are her parents, and that Lucas is the escort she hired to be her date for the wedding not the man so seemingly perfect she might as well have dreamed him into existence, sweeping her off of her feet.
She breaks contact first, breathing heavily biting the corner of her lip to try and quell her furious blushing. It doesn't help, particularly when Auggie returns to his hosting duties, forcing his way into the space now between her and Lucas.
"Putting on a show for all of us, let's give it up one more time for the man putting the moves on my sister, Lucas Friar!"
The applause swells a second time. Lucas' hand finds the small of her back as they exit the stage and Riley wonders if it's possible for a person's cheeks to get warm enough to cook an egg through sheer embarrassment alone. It definitely feelslike it. Between falling victim to the moment and kissing Lucas for such a lengthy period of time, forgetting herself and actually enjoying kissing Lucas, and the ribbing of the crowd, it's suddenly all too much, too fast.
This morning she still could barely contemplate talking to her family or most anyone else at this party without thorough preparation, planning of escape routes, and a general sense of absolute necessity and a little over twelve hours later she has not only started asserting herself and showing that she's actually not just a broken little mouse fumbling away their every attempt to 'fix' her, but she's also started showing off. Grandstanding and singing to give everyone a taste of how happy and strong she is now.
Never mind that the only source of happiness they're going to notice is the completely manufactured relationship with Lucas.
Never mind that this was never a part of the plan to begin with.
Riley can't help but be embarrassed by her actions. Lucas was just supposed to be a support tool for the week-someone to stand by her so she wouldn't have to face every stare and snide comment on her own. Yes, it was an added bonus that his presence might shut one or two people up or give them the impression that her love life is blossoming just as much as her professional life that they don't seem to care about has, but it was never her intention for their 'relationship' to be anything more than quietly solid in the background of the wedding festivities. He was supposed to help her blend in and what did she just do? Only everything she could to make them stand out.
They (and really just her) are going to be a big topic of conversation again for the foreseeable future, all because she wanted to show off. And to top it all off, Lucas had been so good at doing it (because it's his job, she reminds herself) that when he had been serenading her, staring into her eyes, dancing, and indeed kissing her, she had actually felt adored. Like she was the center of his world. So now she can't even think his name without her stomach doing a somersault and her heart trying to convince her that there was a genuine spark somewhere in that moment.
She could just about tunnel into the earth and die for how much she wishes she could go back in time ten minutes and rethink what she was doing.
"I'm sorry for doing that." Lucas' lips near her ear, softly speaking as they weave through the party back to the table, draw Riley out of her shame spiral. What on Earth does he have to be sorry about?
"For doing what?"
"Kissing you like that."
Riley stops in her tracks. Lucas is either apologizing because he thinks that she's so different and delicate compared to his other clients that he doesn't even consider kissing to be a part of this particular job, or because he's noticed how incompetent she's been at reigning her growing feelings and hiding them and he's nice enough that he actually feels bad for exacerbating the situation even though it's really her that's putting him in an awkward situation. And either way, she's feeling off-balance enough, and tired enough, and (in ways that she's not sure she wants to examine too closely) secure enough with him that the very idea of the apology annoys her. "Why would you be sorry for kissing me?"
"I just mean, it wasn't fair of me to put you in that position. It's not something we've talked about and-," Lucas explains, keeping his voice soft. He reaches to take her hand, but Riley pulls out of his reach.
She knows she can't cause a scene and has to be mindful of her words, but she's done with this attitude Lucas seems to have adopted that somehow, she's different from all the other women he works with. To have him keep placing her in this separate category-making it clear that he's doing things differently with her than he normally would because of who she is as a person-stings just as much as her family's dismissive treatment, and she's tired of maintaining her walls on both fronts.
Honestly, it would be so much easier to contain her own feelings if it felt like he was treating her just like any other client.
"Lucas, kissing me is part of your job. As my boyfriend." She tacks on, thankful that it's at that moment the crowd is cheering the current performer's raunchy dance moves on. "I get that I'm probably a little different from the girls you've...dated in the past, but would you ever have apologized for kissing them in public?"
"Probably not." Lucas at least has the grace to look moderately hard-pressed and contrite as she calls him out. "I just don't feel right about getting-,"
Riley holds up her hand. "I know you appreciate how hard this week has been so far for me and you're trying to make it easier. But honestly, it's harder for me right now because I'm stuck constantly second guessing what I'm doing with you. I need you to just...be my boyfriend. Nothing more, nothing less."
"You're right." Lucas sighs, pressing his lips together. "I've been complicating things, and I'm sorry. For doing that, not for kissing you." He hastens to correct himself, the corners of his mouth upturning as he does so. "Forgive me?"
In spite of the emotional rollercoaster of the last fifteen minutes, Riley finds herself relaxing in the face of Lucas' smile. It's impossible not to, what with the soft glint that seems to show up in his eyes when he's looking at her. Damn it. Boundaries, Riley. Boundaries. "Of course."
"Oh, my goodness you two are just so cute together!" After a quick detour to the bar to grab some drinks, Riley and Lucas arrive back to the table to Linda's effusive chatter. "I know you weren't actually singing together but Lucas, when you brought her up on stage to dance with you...oh! And that kiss! I swear, I could have just melted right there."
Eric, with his arm slung around his wife's shoulders raises his drink in a salute. "She's right. The both of you were good. Not as good as we're gonna be when we get up there and recreate the first dance from our wedding, but good."
Riley, feeling on more even footing than she had prior to her conversation with Lucas, thinks back on her uncle's hodge-podge of a wedding, marred by weather disasters and a general comedy of errors, and can't help but grin; the party won't know what hit them. "Are you going to do the actual first one, or the official one from the reception?"
"Oh, we're doing the actual first one." Eric nods emphatically. "That one was the real representation of our relationship, after all."
"What am I missing?" Lucas glances between Riley and the couple. "What was so special about your first dance?"
"Our wedding was..." Linda trails off, searching for the right phrase. "A hilarious disaster. It was storming, so everyone's hair and clothes got wrecked, we got evacuated because of a risk of flash floods, and about five hundred other things that went wrong. But Eric and I were determined to get married anyways. So, in a storm shelter full of strangers, we had our notary perform the ceremony."
Eric jumps in. "And of course, the most important part of any wedding after the vows is the cake. Followed by the first dance. But we didn't have any cake so we had to skip right to the dance. And without the band we had hired-,"
The strains of the next karaoke performer start to get louder, interrupting Eric's explanation.
"No chance, no way. I won't say it no, no.
(You swoon, you sigh. Why deny it, oh oh?)
It's too cliché, I won't say I'm in love…"
They all glance towards the stage to see who's performing, temporarily forgetting that their conversation. Riley vaguely recognizes the petite brunette in dark-framed glasses as someone she's seen on Farkle Minkus' arm at events over the past few years, but not enough to remember her name, or if they have even been introduced to each other. Farkle still tends to shy away from her on most occasions.
Her own recollection on the subject is cut short. Lucas, who's sipping his drink when he turns to look, seems to gasp in surprise (at least that's what she thinks happens since his eyes widen a little too) while he's drinking, causing him to cough and sputter. She reaches over to thump gently on his back a couple of times. "You OK?"
"Yeah." Lucas nods coughing twice more for good measure. His cheeks are red and eyes a bit watery but that seems to be the end of it. "Just caught myself off guard with that sip. Went down the wrong pipe."
Riley has to wonder what the actual explanation is because there's no way that someone as smooth and together as Lucas actually just...took a sip before he was ready to. That's the sort of thing she would do as a certified klutz, but not him. Something else must have happened, but Lucas changes the subject before she can ask.
"So... you were saying about your first dance?"
"If you see a painted sign at the side of the road, that says fifteen miles to the -,"
"LOVE SHACK! Love shack yeah, yeah.
I'm heading down the Atlanta highway…"
In the face of Linda and Eric dancing...well, the kindest word for it would be enthusiastically, on stage and belting the B-52s at the top of their lungs, Lucas blinks. "This is really the first song they danced to at their wedding?"
Riley can't help but laugh. Even when they hear the story of Eric and Linda's impromptu wedding, most people don't believe it. At least unless they've gotten to know the happy couple. But people know that Eric is a Senator, and they recognize that even though he seems a little quirky and tends to simplify the issues as he talks about them, so they assume that he has some level of tradition and decorum instilled in him. Then they get to know him and realize that when he's happy-when he's full of exuberance and love and joy-there's not an ounce of tradition in him. And Linda is usually more than happy to follow. "They didn't have a band or a DJ with them in the storm shelter, they had the radio. It was the first song that came on. So... it's their song now."
"What was their first dance supposed to be? If everything had gone right?" Lucas asks.
"They won't tell anyone."
Riley stiffens involuntarily at the newcomer to the conversation's voice. Her grandmother has always been loving and doting (in many ways more so than her mother has) but she's equally hard to please. Her displeasure with Riley's path in life has been slightly subtler than that of Riley's parents, but nonetheless, it's been easy to notice.
"They were going to surprise everyone anyways, and Linda insists that every that happened was meant to be, so talking about what they were planning is a waste of time." Amy Matthews continues, as Riley and Lucas stand and turn to greet her. Alan is next to his wife, awkward as ever with his hands in his pockets.
Not that that's particularly surprising either. Like father, like son, grandpa Matthews hadn't known how to handle his granddaughter turning out to be a girl, even after going through the process with his own daughter (though Eric swears things were just as bad when Morgan was growing up so in this case, Riley knows it's not specifically a her thing, just a Matthews' family trait seemingly carried on the 'y' chromosome).
"The two of you looked very happy up on stage." Her grandma says after a perfunctory greeting has been exchanged and they're all sitting at the table.
"I'm glad it comes across because we are very happy." Lucas lays his hand across Riley's on the surface of the table. "Riley's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."
It's a small gesture, but Riley can't help but marvel at how it helps her relax. There's a large part of her worrying over what her grandparents have really come over to say (that it's actually just to compliment her and Lucas is beyond unlikely) and the reassurance that someone is here with her to back her up-that Lucas is here to back her up-quiets the worry in ways that she's not used to. She's quick to smile at him to show her appreciation. "What about you and grandpa? Will we be seeing the two of you up there?" The answer to the question is unlikely to be yes which is, a bit unfairly, why Riley chose to ask it. Her grandmother has a lovely voice and is in no way averse to showing it off once in a while, but her grandfather would probably rather undergo a root canal; Ava may have decreed performance a condition of attending her party but if there's a way around it, Alan will surely find it.
Indeed, Riley's grandfather raises his drink to his mouth. "We're still exploring our options."
AKA, finding a way out of doing it at all.
"Well, I'm sure whatever you land on will be great."
Amy accepts Lucas' compliment gracefully and then, as expected, she moves to change the subject as Linda and Eric's performance gets a touch louder.
"Sign says, 'Stay away fools!'
"'Cause love rules, at the Love Shack…"
"Anyway Riley, we really wanted to come over to talk to you about what happened out on the boat today."
Riley relaxes a little more. That's doable and familiar. People witness what looks like a medical emergency get handled by a professional and they like to talk about it, to say how cool it was or to sing some praise of the professional. Most of the time she sees it happen to the doctors she works with, but she's gotten it once or twice too, and if that's the conversation her grandparents want to have she can get through that a lot easier than the subjects she was anticipating.
"The way you handled everything out there was very impressive." Her grandfather begins. "Things were chaotic but you kept your cool and got everyone else to calm down and do what needed to be done."
Riley starts to demur the comment, firm in the belief that doing things she has trained and studied for isn't particularly impressive, but her grandmother speaks before she can get much out.
"And I really think it was a wonderful gesture."
"A gesture." Riley blinks, unsure of where her grandmother is going with such a comment. Her stomach starts to clench with the sudden flip to uncertainty.
Her grandmother nods. "Yes, a very nice one. Rushing to your father and Josh's aid like that after being away for so long… Doing what you did was a wonderful way to say that you're done being stubborn and you're ready to apologize and start mending fences."
Riley nearly pushes away from the table for the way her stomach clenching turns to an icy element sitting on her chest at her grandmother's words. Of course she had made the wrong assumptions about the elder Matthews' intentions. They haven't given her praise without wanting something else attached in over ten years. "That...wasn't what I was doing."
Lucas starts moving his thumb, swirling soft circles on the back of her hand.
"Of course it was!" Her grandmother dismisses. "Rushing to their sides and doing what you could-,"
"I was just doing my job. I would have stepped up for anyone." Riley protests. "If someone needs medical help, it's my job to do what I can."
"But you're just a nurse. You hand out compresses to little kids."
Her grandmother couldn't have known that this glib disregard for what she does would be enough to flip a switch in Riley and make her go from hurt and uneasy to hurt and ready to do something about it (because Riley hadn't known either) but flip a switch it does. "Actually grandma, nurse's work incredibly hard and there's no such thing as just a nurse. And furthermore, I'm not just a nurse. I'm a nurse practitioner in a pediatric emergency room.
"That means I have my master's degree. I can write prescriptions. Most of the patients I see are my own, not a doctor's who I'm assisting. I tell people the best news of their lives when their family member is going to make it and the worst news of their lives when I have to tell them that they're not. The injuries that dad and Uncle Josh were dealing with were nothing compared to the traumas that I see on a daily basis. So sure. I'm just a nurse. I am damn proud to be just a nurse."
For a moment, Riley thinks she's done, and breathing heavily, she watches her grandparents stunned reactions. But when she notices her grandfather opening his mouth to say something, she finds a few more words. "And by the way, you would know all of that if you spent even one iota of the time you spend lamenting the fact that I don't just blindly follow my parents' example listening to me instead. But I haven't had the same best friend since I was five, and I haven't married my childhood sweetheart, and I know until I do, I might as well just be any other nurse in the world to you, not your granddaughter.
"So as just another nurse, let me make it clear. What I did today was my job, not an olive branch. And given how this family has treated me the last twelve years, believe me when I tell you that you won't be seeing any grand gestures coming from my direction. Not when I know the reception I'll get."
Riley stands, holding onto Lucas with one hand and grabbing her drink with the other. She starts to walk away, more than happy to take the route of retreat in order to avoid dealing with whatever fallout standing up for herself might cause. Particularly now that it's the second time in a single day that she's done so without facing many consequences. She knows her luck and that this is not it. The other shoe will drop eventually and while Lucas' pep talk earlier covered a little bit of ground as to why she should be OK with it if and when the repercussions come (and maybe contributed to this instance of bold attitude and speaking her mind) a few wise words from a guy she's only just getting to know was never going to undo a lifetime's worth of aiming to please.
So Riley grabs Lucas and tries to flee before either grandparent can formulate a response.
After they make it a few steps away and Lucas has caught up so he's walking next to her instead of trailing behind her, he leans in, smirking next to her ear. "I can think of a gesture or two you could give them."
"Lucas!" Riley admonishes, although she's unable to contain her giggles as she imagines the proposed scenario. Her family would be shocked. And horrified. And if she were the sort of person who did that kind of thing, it would be pretty funny. At least for a second or two until her manners and guilt caught up with her. "You're terrible."
"I'm just saying…" Lucas starts to guide her towards a corner of the patio that appears a little less crowded. "They've kind of earned it. And it would fit with the whole badass thing you've been rocking all day."
If Riley had needed proof that Lucas is just saying what he thinks he should because she's paying him, this is it; no one in the history of ever has described her as a badass. "Who have you been watching all day? Clearly it wasn't me."
"Oh, so taking charge at the scene of an emergency isn't badass? Telling off your mother while you're covered in your father's blood? That's not badass?"
Riley snorts. "You make it sound like I'm the one who stabbed him."
"No, you're just the one who was willing to take the future use of his hand into yours, if not his life."
Riley still can't figure out how Lucas gets that beautiful soft glint in his eyes, or how he can take something that she does every day and make it sound so special. It's an incredible trick.
No wonder all the reviews on his website were so positive.
"Riley, I know it's not always easy to see something that you do for work as something extraordi-,"
"There you are!"
A heavy hand clamps down on Riley's shoulder in time with the boisterous shout and she can't help but yelp and drop her drink in surprise. The glass shatters on the deck by her feet. She and Lucas both turn, with Lucas grabbing her forearm and guiding her to move behind him.
"I have been looking everywhere for you!" The enthusiastic visitor, Riley realizes a split second after her panic hits, is her father. "This place is crowded. Who knew Auggie had so many friends?"
Her dad is disheveled, to put it mildly. His injured arm is heavily bandaged, splinted in a sling. His shirt buttons are done up unevenly, his shirt isn't tucked into his pants properly… A glance down at his feet reveals that instead of shoes, he's wearing slippers. Riley can't believe her mother let him out of the hotel room at all after the day they've had, let alone let him out looking like such a mess.
"Dad, you just had surgery, you should be resting back at the-,"
"Surgery, smurgery." Her dad cuts her off, scoffing. "I wanted to come and see you. You saved me today and we have so much to talk about."
Riley takes in the whole picture. Her dad's appearance, his unrestrained overenthusiastic tone, pupils the size of pinpricks… She sighs. He's not reacting well to whatever pain medication he's been prescribed for his injury. "Dad, where's mom? She needs to-,"
Her dad steps forward, moving his hand back to her shoulder. He glances from side to side, as though checking their surroundings, and lowers his voice to what he probably thinks is a whisper. "Shh! Topanga fell asleep. We have to be quiet so we don't wake her up. She doesn't want me to come here."
Of course.
"If Mrs. Matthews is asleep, how did you get here?" Lucas asks. He gently takes her dad's hand off of her. "You didn't drive, did you?"
"I called an Uber on my phone."
Riley opens her mouth to say something else, but Lucas shakes his head, warning her off. "An Uber?" He prompts.
"They'll pick you up from anywhere." Her dad enthuses, while Lucas starts to walk with him, guiding him to back towards the rest of the crowd.
Her dad continues to ramble, and Riley feels more than a little guilty for staying behind and leaving Lucas to find a solution to the problem (or at least someone to hand her dad off to), even though he had stepped up without her asking him to. She just has a feeling that if her dad gets the chance to have whatever conversation he's gotten it into his head that they have to have tonight, that things will just get messier; either her dad will say something awful while his filter is at less than full effect that he's restrained himself from saying sober and any hope of reconciliation that Riley's still holding in the deepest, most secret recesses of herself will be crushed for good, or with his inhibitions loose and his sense of self riding high from the weighty experiences of the day he'll try and fix things. Which wouldn't be bad if Riley thought he might actually mean it, or could guarantee that when the medication wore off his attitude wouldn't go right back to where it's been.
As it is, she doesn't want to, nor does she think she's in the place to risk the heartbreak that will come from either of those paths.
If her dad is experiencing some kind of turnaround and wants to make things better, actually wants to talk things through and apologize, then they can do it when he's not high on any prescription narcotics.
But Riley is 99.99% certain that he's not, and that conversation isn't anywhere close to being on the horizon.
"Huggin' and a-kissin', dancin' and a-lovin' and a love shack…"
Around her the party bursts into enthusiastic applause as Eric and Linda's performance comes to its conclusion. Riley quickly decides that if she works to help Lucas take care of her dad, by way of sending someone to help him, then she at least will be doing something and might feel a little bit better. She heads towards the stage to grab her Uncle and fill him in on the situation.
"Seen any good movies lately?"
"Nope."
"TV shows?"
"Not really."
"Well, I'd ask you if you've read any good books but I'm pretty sure with a guy like Lucas in your life any thoughts about reading before bed begin and end with the Kama Sutra."
Riley nearly chokes on the water she's been sipping anxiously as Linda's attempts at keeping a distracting and benign conversation going veer off course and catch her attention again. Her Aunt (in-law)'s valiant efforts to draw her attention away from the potential disasters of her dad's presence as it stands and to keep her from travelling too far down the path of blaming herself for the entire mess have not been entirely effective to this point; it's all too easy to get caught up in the worry of the unknown and get pulled into her own thoughts about it all. But Linda brings out the big guns with that comment and draws her right back to the moment. "Ha ha." She deadpans, glancing around the patio.
Farkle Minkus is on the stage, putting on an enthusiastic, athletic performance of 'Don't Stop Me Now'. Auggie and Ava are just to the side, waiting to resume emcee duties. Out in the crowd, things are busy and packed enough that Riley struggles to pick anyone out without taking extra time to really scrutinize the details. She doesn't think that she can see Lucas or Eric or her dad anywhere, but it's not very comforting when she's a) not positive that that's true and b) not sure what might be happening wherever they have ended up.
"I'm just saying…" Linda smirks, sending Riley a knowing look out of the corner of her eye. "You can't work the shifts you do, maintain your relationship, and have time for Oprah's Book Club. And there's no missing the heart eyes he's been sending your direction all night so we know your relationship isn't suffering…"
Riley blushes at the implication. She's mostly gotten used to the winking implications about her relationship with Lucas (there's no denying that he's incredibly good-looking in what Zay would call a 'I wouldn't kick them out for eating crackers in my bed' kind of way, and no one at the wedding appears to be shy about talking about those sorts of things) but it's a little different with Linda, who for a long stretch of time was a sort of catch-all female in Riley's life, acting as a big sister/mother/best friend...whatever Riley had needed at the time. With all the history between them, she might actually expect to hear some details.
Details that, of course, Riley doesn't actually have. She's not sure what she should do. Be semi-honest and just say that she and Lucas haven't gotten there yet? Lie and make something up? Her mind goes completely blank of rational ideas.
"I'm a sex machine ready to reload!
"Like an atom bomb, about to oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, explode!"
Farkle's lyrically appropriate dancing doesn't help matters.
"I, uh, well...I-,"
"OK, my idiot brother is safely in the hands of Shawn, who just needs the valet to grab his car so he can deliver Cory back to the bed and breakfast and what I'm sure will be the wrathful hands of Topanga." Riley is saved from having to truly answer Linda by Eric and Lucas' arrival at the table. "So, I am like, 97% sure we're in the clear and the crisis has been averted."
"I just don't understand what possessed him to come here." Linda comments as Eric and Lucas take seats. "I mean, I know he's never had the best reaction to pain medication but doesn't he normally just sit in front of the TV and get sucked into a marathon of Unsolved Mysteries and get all paranoid?"
Lucas scoots his seat closer to Riley's. "Well, when he wasn't singing the name game under his breath, he was mostly just rambling."
A pit forms in Riley's stomach, sinking straight down to the floor. Lucas' statement is just vague enough to be obviously hiding something. "And what was he rambling about?" She clips out softly, starting to fiddle with the wrapper from her straw.
"Hard to say."
"Mostly nonsense."
Eric and Lucas answer in unison, and entirely too quickly.
Underneath the table, Riley aims a firm, but gentle toe to the shin of her Uncle. "And what would the average person listening to this nonsense hear?"
"Did you just kick my shin? I am a respected member of the United States Senate. I could sic the FBI on you for this." Eric's attempts at deflection are good, and with a different topic, Riley might go along with them, but she knows what he and Lucas are doing. Trying to hide something, probably to try and protect her.
Only she doesn't want to be coddled or protected. She wants to know as much as possible about where she stands with her father. "I'll kick it again if you don't answer the question. What was dad doing here?"
It takes two more beats of silence for the men to answer her. In the end, Lucas is the one to step up to the plate.
"He was talking about...repairing your relationship." He sighs, finding her eyes. "Going on about how he never should have let you leave, and how he thinks you two have to fix things."
Well. That answers that question. Granted, Riley had already figured on it being the case, but having her suspicions confirmed doesn't do much to make her feel better. On the contrary, knowing just takes away the worry that Lucas and Uncle Eric were hiding something totally heinous from her and the sinking feeling makes way for a jumbled mix of uncertainty and annoyance.
"Because that couldn't have occurred to him any other time in the last ten years." She huffs, flicking the straw wrapper across the surface of the table.
"Riley…" Linda draws out her name, with the sort of sadness peppering her voice that makes Riley's stomach turn for how much it sounds like pity.
"It's fine." Riley shakes her head, pressing her lips together. She wants to nip that in the bud almost as much as she wants the night to be over with altogether so she can take five minutes to think about all of the myriad developments that have happened away from the pressure of actually interacting with people while she does it. She just needs to make sure Linda and Eric know exactly how OK with this she is, and the she can hopefully change the subject. "We all know he doesn't actually mean any of it, so there's nothing to be upset over."
The confusion on her Uncle Eric's face surprises her. He's always been her biggest-and at times her only-cheerleader when it's come time to distance herself from her parents and look at things without the added filter of the need for a parent-child relationship. Now he looks like he doesn't understand where she's coming from at all. "You don't think he means it?"
"I think he's emotional from experiencing a trauma and high as a kite and it's messing with his feelings and making him act like he wants to fix things. He won't feel the same way when he sobers up." The words come out clinically; it's not easy to detach from the fact that the 'he' in question is her father, but Riley has forced herself to get better at it over the years. If she constantly looks at their actions while thinking of Cory and Topanga as her parents, it hurts too much. Her hopes float to the surface or everything feels more personal and she can't help but take it that way and crumble. It's better to separate herself when she can, particularly in situations like this where she has to defend her choices.
"Well, yeah, he's high right now," Linda concedes, "but it's lowering his inhibitions. I'm not saying you should talk to him until he's sober, but people sometimes need a push to say things that they're afraid to on a-,"
Riley cuts her aunt off. She's not going to get sucked down that road and if she can stop anyone else from going down it, she will. "When exactly has Cory Matthews ever needed a push to fight for the relationships he wants? Because I have heard all of the stories, and to my recollec-,"
"Damn it, Cory! When did you get to be so nimble?" From several tables away, Shawn's winded voice cuts through the noise of the party and interrupts Riley's thought.
They all turn to look. Sure enough, her dad is back. He's got one of the binders that holds all of the potential karaoke songs. Actually, he appears to have taken the binder out of the hands of Ava's maid of honor, and is flipping through it with gusto. "Nobody told me this was gonna be a karaoke party. I love karaoke! I've got to sing something!"
To his credit, although Shawn had apparently lost control of his charge at one point, he's trying to regain it, grabbing onto her dad's elbow and attempting to pull him away. "No, you've got to come with me back to the bed and breakfast. Topanga's waiting for us."
"I'm not going anywhere." Her dad protests. "I came here to talk to Riley and I'm not leaving until you people stop hid-,"
"O-K." Lucas says a little too loudly, drawing her attention away from the sloppy rant. He loops an arm around her shoulders. "I don't know about you but I am dying to get my hands on something with chocolate. Why don't you and I go take a look at the dessert bar until things get a little less...crowded?"
The ease with which Lucas can manipulate a situation, from changing a topic of conversation to removing someone from a situation is something Riley can't help but marvel at. Especially when he just seems to know it's needed without any nudges or prompting. He seems to just know how to navigate these things.
"Yeah." Riley nods, speaking softly. Being just as eager to avoid defending her belief that her dad doesn't actually want to fix things to Eric and Linda as she is to avoid her dad realizing she's there and trying to talk with her again, she's more than happy to go along with Lucas' diversion. "Something with chocolate sounds perfect."
They receive no argument from Eric or Linda, just a set of understanding nods, so Riley and Lucas stand and start heading towards the opposite area of the patio. As they walk, Riley can just hear her dad's boisterous, insistent comment to Shawn.
"This place doesn't have the Theme from Ghostbusters. I'm just gonna have to pick something else, and sing the words to the Theme from Ghostbusters."
"You know, we don't have to stay." Lucas says as they arrive at the dessert spread. Although the suggestion had probably been primarily made as a polite excuse to escape the scene and serve as a small distraction, Riley had quickly decided that the day had been enough of a roller coaster before the party had started with its singing and kissing and fighting (and now the grown-up version of hide and seek) that she had more than earned a trip to the sugary buffet table to load up a plate, indulge, and bury some of her feelings under a mountain of ganache. When given the chance, she had made a beeline for the sweets. "We've been here nearly two hours and we both did the karaoke thing… Auggie's not gonna blame you for cutting out early when he hears about the stuff with your grandparents and the thing with your dad…"
Riley shakes her head. She can't leave. It doesn't matter the circumstances and whether or not people know about them, if she's the first to leave the party, especially if the rest of her family is still there, it will just be more fodder for everyone. They all love to talk about how she runs from things and leaving this would be one more example. She won't add fuel to that fire. Not after fleeing the welcome party their first night here.
And she definitely doesn't want Auggie to hear anything about the fight with their grandparents, or their dad's behavior.
Especially their dad's behavior.
"We're not leaving. And Auggie's not finding out about any of this." She answers firmly, grabbing a plate and starting to survey her prospects.
"I get why you don't want to leave," Lucas concedes after a moment's thought, "because you'd never hear the end of it from some of these people." And as he loads his own plate with a variety of mini cupcakes, Riley notes the hint of annoyance (or is it disgust?) in his voice, but it shifts just as quickly over to curiosity. "But why shouldn't Auggie know about what happened? It's his family too."
"Exactly." Riley glances over and sees that Lucas' expression is still fairly puzzled. She sighs. "First of all, Auggie loves them. He understands why I don't get along with them, but he hasn't had the same problems with them that I have and I'm not going to do anything that might spoil that for him. Especially the week of his wedding.
"Second, Auggie still thinks that someday my parents and I will work things out. If he gets wind that my dad was trying to talk to me and 'fix things'," Riley makes finger quotes with her free hand, just to make sure Lucas knows how much she thinks the entire thing is total crap, "then he'll think the same thing that Uncle Eric and Linda obviously did, and he won't understand why I don't agree and won't indulge in the conversation."
With their plates loaded down with desserts, they start to walk, seeking out a free space that won't leave them too close, or too far, from the crowd. "And why exactly is that?"
Riley nearly clenches her jaw; she didn't really think Lucas would question her or try and make her second guess herself over this. He's been on board with all of her other decisions and reasoning, and for him to do so with this, arguably the hardest one for her to make and stay firm on, stings. She's grown far too used to having his support.
"I'm not trying to change your mind," Lucas clarifies as they reach a tiny, bar-height table top without seating and set their plates of sweets on it, "I just want to understand where you're coming from."
The hurt laps back. Riley takes a settling breath, and searches for the right words. Of course, once she finds them, it's difficult to hold them back or to stop finding them. "The very idea that someone can only express their feelings about or to another person if they're drunk or high is not nearly so endearing or sweet or exciting as people like to act like it is. At best, it's awkward and sad. At best. Because they're either hiding their feelings because they know they're in some way inappropriate or they haven't said anything because the feelings don't actually run that deep or even exist at all, being altered just takes away the person's filter, and come the glaring reality of sobriety, everyone is going to be confused and disappointed."
"And you think your dad falls into the second category?" Lucas probes.
"Well, I know he's not a heartbroken suitor on a tv drama who thinks he has to stay quiet about his feelings because I'm happy with someone else." Riley stabs at a mini-cheesecake with her fork, carving off a bite but making no move to eat it. "Look, you can ask almost anyone, and they'll tell you how naive I am because until I'm proven wrong I'll believe the best in people. And for all of our differences, I still talk to my family regularly. There's no reason for him to think that I wouldn't give him a chance if he came to me and wanted to genuinely make an effort to fix things between us."
"Maybe he doesn't know how to do it."
It's almost a fair enough point. A parent is supposed to take the high road and love and care for their child regardless of what happens and if her dad realized he had fallen short of that goal, he probably would struggle to know how to handle it. Only there are options other than talking. And it's really only almost a fair enough point if you don't know Cory Matthews or his history with other problem relationships.
And Riley gets the feeling that Lucas thinks he's just having a conversation...just playing devil's advocate with the girl he's spending time with for the week, but she has to correct him and even explain it in this minor way makes her heart clench and lodge in her throat.
"Even if he didn't know how to say the words, my dad has had every opportunity to change the way he interacts with me. Over ten years of opportunities, actually. But he hasn't. And I know you don't know him, and you only know the few stories I've told you, but I know him, and I know them all. And I know that he fought harder to stay friends with Uncle Shawn's ex when they broke up in college than he ever has to talk to me.
"And that's how I know he doesn't mean whatever this is tonight."
Riley could say more. She actually almost wants to say more. That's how easy it is to talk to Lucas. There's something about how he listens; he barely even has to say anything, but the gestures he makes-the small nods and 'mm-hmms' and the brushes of his hand or knee against hers-make Riley feel so important and valued...like what she's saying matters and is being understood, that she could almost open up right then and there. She could tell him the whole story. There's a split second where she considers it.
At least until they show up.
"Mind if we interrupt?" Her Uncle Josh, bandage on one hand, his other hand gripped firmly by a rather blank-faced Maya, approaches the table. He rocks on his heels as they stop and looks, to Riley's assessment, like he almost wants to be biting his lip. When they were kids, he would always do that whenever he was nervous.
"What I want hasn't ever stopped anyone before." Riley clips. She steps to the side, closer to Lucas. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer still until her side is pressed against him. "What do you need Josh?" She knows the question probably comes off as rude (she can't exactly keep the sigh or the exhaustion out of her voice when she speaks) but she can't really find the energy to pretend to care. She maybe could have managed after the encounter with her grandparents but the moments with her dad have drained her, and she knows for the rest of the night she'll have to leave every barricade she has up when dealing with family.
Josh swallows around his first breath, speaking on the second. "About what happened on the boat today. I wanted to tha-,"
"There's no need." Riley cuts him off. She's not going through this dance again. Not twice in one night. "I was just doing what I trained for."
"Even so," Josh is not deterred, though he licks at his lips before he continues, "what happened today was a lot and you couldn't have been expecting it, and I know things between us and with you and your dad aren't the best… I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate the way you stepped up. So... thanks."
Riley feels Lucas' fingertips tighten on her shoulder, but he doesn't say anything, so she doesn't know exactly what part of Josh's comment he doesn't like. She knows which part she doesn't like, she's just not sure it's worth diving into that rabbit hole. She presses her lips together, forcing her instinctual response back. "You're welcome."
It quickly becomes evident that Josh either didn't think that she would accept his gratitude so quickly, or he just didn't plan on what would happen when she did, because he doesn't say anything else. A beat passes. Then another. And then another.
"Seriously?!" Maya whacks the back of her hand against Josh's chest, not quite glaring at her husband, but close just the same. "You make me come over here because you just had to talk to Riley and this is all we're going to do? Thank her and stand here, catching the awkward?"
"I'm trying to be the bigger person." Josh hisses in return. As though they aren't standing a mere foot and a half away in total view.
"Well you succeeded." Riley says quickly, glancing down at the floor and working her jaw over the words. She doesn't bother to inject any tone or expression to make them convincing; this is just...going through the motions necessary to extract herself from the conversation without another fight. She's too tired for another fight. "So thank you for that. I think we're all set."
Now Maya is pretty much glaring at Josh. "I thought we were coming over here because you figured out how to get her back."
Riley's first instinct is to take a step back. The only reason she doesn't is Lucas' steady presence against her. You figured out how to get her back. As though she was a cherished possession lost in an ill-advised poker bet, and not, you know, a person who makes her own decisions.
"I had an idea." Josh replies. "But I didn't know if it would-,"
"Work?" Riley cuts him off, crossing her arms across her chest. "No, it won't. And I have to tell you, the single-minded tendency of everyone in this family to color their every interaction with me with an attempt to draw me back to the family like a little lost lamb isn't endearing me to the thought either." Riley feels Lucas brush his thumb on her shoulder in a reassuring squeeze, but her focus is on the expressions setting on Josh and Maya's faces.
In an instant, Maya's obstinate annoyance appears to shift and mold itself into a glistening expression of disbelief. "Riles, you can't really mean that."
"I've been saying the same thing since I left, Maya." Riley shakes her head, exhaling in grim, spiritless laugh. "It's just that none of you have been listening. Come on Lucas," she steps out of his embrace to grab at her plate, even though she no longer feels much like eating it "there must be some corner of this place where we can sit in peace."
Lucas follows her example without saying a word. His free hand finds her back and they turn to leave.
They make it two steps and Riley almost thinks they're home free. Neither Josh nor Maya are the sort of people who think before they speak; they both move based exactly based on what they're feeling in the moment and deal with consequences later, so it seems most likely that if they have anything to say, they already would have said it. Naturally, that's not the case, as in the middle of the third step, Josh's downtrodden voice cuts through the air.
"Wow, you really do hate us now, don't you?"
And Riley's torn between anger and sadness. Because she just can't tell. Is Josh making some sort of play? An attempt at guilt-tripping her because the Riley he knows would have been horrified at the implication that she hates anyone, let alone her family? The thought of the potential emotional manipulation makes her face heat up. And yet that there's a chance that he's being honest and thinks that she could somehow hate him (a concept that baffles her, even with their disagreements) and the very thought leaves her feeling so cold and heavy that the sadness wins out. She turns back around.
"Putting myself first is not the same as hating you. I could never hate you, Uncle Josh. Either of you."
"No, you just won't talk to us."
"Maya, I left because I was spending every ounce of myself on meeting everyone's expectations and being the perfect friend and perfect Matthews, and none of you noticed or cared what that was doing to me." Riley allows some of the rawness pushing at her being to bleed into her voice because to try and contain it all would at some point make her break. For so much of her life Josh was more like a beloved older brother than an Uncle, and her friendship with Maya felt deeper than anything she could possibly imagine; Riley's felt close to the edge all most of the night, tiptoeing closer and closer with every fraught encounter, and this is just one more thing she has to deal with and fight against, lest it push her exactly where she doesn't want to go. "And I can tell from the way you talk to me that things haven't changed, and until they do-,"
"Oh come on, you left because you're a drama queen and things didn't work out exactly the way you had them figured in your head, and we weren't coddling you anymore so you had to throw a temper tantrum."
Maya's words stop the breath in Riley's chest, and she can't explain why. They're not any crueler than anything else she's faced over the years. They're probably not even the cruelest words Maya's ever sent her way if she really thinks about it. But somehow in this moment they take her back to a time when having her feelings dismissed and belittled by Maya still hurt.
She's a little surprised when Lucas leaves her side to step in front of her, directing a coldness in his gaze that she's never seen before at Maya. "You know, for someone who supposedly wants to reconcile, you're pretty rude."
"Back off Sheriff Woody, nobody asked you." Maya scoffs and rolls her eyes.
"Sheriff Woody?" Lucas repeats, blinking and staring blankly at his newly taken on adversary.
Not that Riley thinks they're becoming mortal enemies or anything. It's just that unless Maya has changed a lot since high school, she kind of sees everyone who doesn't do things her way or agree with her as completely against her and gets defensive, and with Lucas probably not inclined to pull any punches...she can see the way this conversation is headed.
"From Toy Story…?" Maya explains, but gets no reaction in return. "The cowboy…? Because you're some kind of goody-two shoes huckleberry from Texas…?" Lucas wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, but otherwise doesn't say anything, and Maya's exasperation wins out. "What? Are you so charming and perfect that no one's ever insulted you before?"
Lucas' eyes widen and his voice drips with barely disguised derision when he speaks. "Oh! That's what you were going for. Ok, yeah. No. I get insulted all the time. I just wasn't expecting a Pixar reference to be hurled at me but I totally get it now. I'll get right down on your level and shouldn't have any more trouble keeping up." The wink that he sends Riley's way, causing Maya's eyes to flash and Riley's heart to seize and flutter doesn't help matters.
"Now who's being rude?" Josh moves forward, squaring up right in front of Lucas.
A part of Riley worries that they'll fight; she doesn't think that Lucas, who appears to have an ironclad control over his every reaction from what she can tell, would start anything but she also doesn't exactly see him blinking or backing off from Josh's posturing. And Josh…
Well, the Matthews' men have been known to lose their tempers and throw a punch on occasion.
"I'll give you two as much respect as you give Riley. You just have to figure out if you can dish out what you think you deserve."
Maya shakes her head. "Look, there are two sides to every story and I don't know what pretty Princess Riley told you, but she's not some innocent victim in all of this. She started the whole thing when made a choice and didn't ask any of us how we felt. And then when it all worked out she refused to be hap-,"
"I don't care." Lucas shrugs, cutting her off. His nonchalance only seems to bother the pair standing opposite more, particularly as he takes a step back and removes himself from the direct confrontation with Josh. "Riley's important to me. You two aren't. You can resolve any issues that exist between you on your own. Or not. As long as Riley's happy, I'm happy. But if you want respect from me, you'll show respect to her. End of story."
"Seriously, did you cast a spell on him or something?" Maya angles towards Riley. "Guys are never this into you. Especially guys like him."
The words are another reminder of the cruelty of her past that Riley won't allow herself to contemplate. And she doesn't have time to. Maya speaks and Lucas blinks as he listens and it's like watching him shift into an entirely different person. His posture becomes stiffer, seemingly more solid, while he squares his jaw and takes a tiny step forward. His gaze becomes so hard and full of contempt that she can almost picture the actual flash of lightning going off in his eyes, acting as a warning sign to those who dare cross his path. And Riley might be imagining things but he suddenly looks taller.
"Do you want to repeat that?" He challenges, voice as forceful as the look in his eyes. And was that a hint of drawl, lapping at his words?
Riley is suddenly rethinking her assessment that Lucas might start a fight, and uncertain as to what his motivations for doing so might be, she is more than eager to remove him from the situation and calm him down. She sets her plate on a nearby table and reaches for his hand. "Lucas let's just-,"
"Oh come on, Riles." Maya teases with the sort of edge in her smile that makes it clear that it's not in jest at all. "Don't neuter him completely. Don't you want your handsome hero to rescue you from Big Bad Maya?"
"You're the only one here to ever ask to be rescued by someone, Maya." Riley snaps off.
"Right. You were just constantly running away from your problems. So much better of you."
"Look." Josh edges himself between the two girls. "We're getting off track. We just came over here to try and get you to see that we still care about you. We want you back in our lives Riley."
Lucas follows Josh' action, standing tall over the older man. "Really? Because what I saw was a couple of bullies trying to emotionally blackmail Riley and chip away at her self-esteem until she felt like you were the only people she deserved. So if that's you being nice and making your case I'd hate to see you with someone that you don't want around."
Josh shakes his head. "This is not a situation that involves you man, back off."
"And I already told you. If a situation involves Riley, it involves me. If you can't wrap your head around that, I'd be happy to talk a little slower for you."
Riley sees Josh's fist start to clench as Lucas speaks. She sees him start to draw back as the insult sets in. She contemplates the best method of interference to prevent bloodshed or a larger brawl, and settles on yanking on Lucas' hand as hard as she possibly can while she steps to the side, drawing him out of the line of fire.
Josh's momentum carries him straight into the dessert buffet. It, rather miraculously, doesn't collapse and cause a huge commotion, although his face does wind up directly in a pile of cupcakes.
At the same time, up on the stage, Riley sees one of Auggie's friends getting ready to sing his song. "Alright everyone," he says in a playfully smooth and deep lounge lizard voice, "tonight has been fun but it is time that we slow things down a bit. I want you all to find your lovers, head out onto the dance floor, and hold on tight."
Riley doesn't particularly care what song he's about to sing. It's as good an excuse as any to remove themselves from the situation before Josh or Maya attempt to retaliate. "That's our cue!" She starts walking, Lucas' hand still in hers, before anyone can question it.
"And rain falls angry on the tin roof,
"As we lie awake in my bed…"
Somehow, they actually do end up dancing in the middle of a small, crowded dance floor, half in the frame they've been practicing for the big reception number, but mostly just swaying back and forth, middle-school style.
This is such a weird night, Riley thinks.
Continuously swinging from one extreme to the next. Dread, joy, confusion, rage...this party has had it all. Even a little bit removed from the near-fight with Maya and Josh, Riley can feel the tension bleeding out of Lucas' form. He hasn't said anything since she had maneuvered their escape, just allowed her to lead the way, brooding all the while, and Riley can't help but think that maybe intervening had somehow been a mistake.
"Was I supposed to let Josh hit you?" She asks quietly as they sway.
"What?" The question jolts Lucas out of his seething.
"You looked like you were ready for a fight, I pulled you out of the way when Josh started swinging...now you're all tense and sulking…" Riley explains. "Would you be happier right now if I had let Josh hit you and you could have thrown a punch his way too?"
Lucas shakes his head. "No, you did the right thing. I was baiting him and Maya when I shouldn't have been… We never even talked about how you wanted me to handle defending you. If I'm supposed to get physical or just be the bigger person, but they kept mouthing off and insulting you and I just saw red. They are-," Lucas drops off, briefly closing his eyes with a laughing exhale. "I know they're technically a part of your family but wow, are you nothing like them. Have they always been like that?"
Riley tries to choose her words carefully. One thing that Maya said that was actually true was that there are two sides to every story. And as frustrating as she finds them and as much as she's been hurt by their choices over the years, it's not exactly fair of her to go and badmouth them behind their backs. "Maya's dad left her and her mom when she was really little, and she's always used sarcasm and insults as her first way of expressing and protecting herself. Even with people she cares about. So when things aren't going her way she tends to get a bit...nasty."
"And Josh? That Shawn guy? The rest of your family? What's their excuse?"
"Based on what you told me, I would have thought that you'd be pretty familiar with the behavior of a disappointed family." Riley knows it's a bit unfair to turn the conversation on its head and redirect it to Lucas, but she's not sure how much longer she can keep on talking about her problems with her family; not when Lucas has a tendency to point out the hard truths in completely reasonable ways and forces her to confront them. And definitely not after navigating all of the actual confrontations that she's navigated today.
"When you disappoint the Friars, they call you a disgrace to the family name and then freeze you out entirely. From what I can tell when you disappoint the Matthews, you become the target of passive-aggressive attacks on who you are and everything you do."
"And I've dropped out, I've burned up, I fought my way back from the-"
"OK, OK, enough of the prom flashbacks. It's time for something important."
Riley can't come up with a response to Lucas' assessment of her family because the party comes to a halt. And the party comes to a halt because someone climbs up onto the stage and takes the microphone from Auggie's friend. A very familiar and unsteady sounding someone. She squeezes her eyes shut, letting her head fall forward against Lucas' chest. "I can't look. Tell me that's not-,"
"Do you want me to lie?"
"Oh god."
"I have been trying to talk to Riley all night." The man on the stage slurs into his stolen microphone. "Riley Matthews. You know, my daughter? That Riley?"
Riley isn't going to look. She can't. To look would be to acknowledge that this is actually happening and there's no way that this could possibly be an actual thing that's happening.
Maybe when the yacht hit those waves earlier, she had actually hit her head and this entire day has been a coma dream.
Yeah. That's a completely reasonable explanation. She'll go with that.
"And everyone keeps distracting me and taking her away from me. Like I don't have the right to talk to my own daughter."
Only Riley knows what it feels like when someone is staring at her. And slowly but surely, she feels sets of eyes boring into her as the party goers locate her and seek her reaction.
She doesn't have one to give.
She slowly pulls back from the safety of Lucas' arms but all she can really feel is the cold dread, sliding down over her like a dozen eggs cracked over her head. Riley turns towards the stage, heart seized in her chest; this is certainly one of many train wrecks she's been desperately trying to avoid. And it will be done live, in front of an entire party.
"But they don't understand. They don't get it. I just want things to be good again. And if I can't talk to Riley alone then I'll just have to do it here. Riley, I know you're out there, and this song is for you."
Her father starts to sing, and while the backing track from the performer he interrupted has halted, no music starts up for him.
"We were as one babe, for a moment in time.
"And it seemed everlasting, that you would always be mine…"
Riley knows that her jaw falls open, completely slack. She can hear the party-goers' reactions-some shocked gasps and comments, some giggles-and is certain that there's probably also a lot of pointing, but it all seems to tunnel out around her in a blur; all she can see is her disheveled father, bumbling about the stage and belting horribly off-key into the microphone.
He's singing. To her. He's singing to her and everybody knows it.
The mortification rises, a freezing tide of panic and nausea, but Riley can't move. She can't do anything. Not even look away. She's stuck, frozen and staring, too horrified and heartbroken and five million other things that she can't even begin to identify to do anything else.
"Why isn't anyone stopping him?"
"You'll always be a part of me.
"I'm part of you indefinitely…."
Lucas' question goes unanswered.
Even if Riley knew the answer, and she doesn't, she couldn't speak if she tried for the lump lodged in her throat. Riley's no stranger to embarrassment; junior year was one giant experiment in indignity. But she'd rather go back in time and live through that whole mess ten times over than be at the center of this nightmare.
She's long given up on the hope that someday her parents would realize they missed her more than anything else and would try to make amends, but for a long time that was the dream. Not a sweeping romance with Prince Charming or being the best at whatever she chose to do, or winning the lottery and being able to help people without worrying another day of her life. Just...having her parents (or even just one) looking to make things right and rebuild their relationship. Riley had spent a lot of her time in senior year and college imagining what the conversation and reunion might look like, and while she stopped considering it a real possibility a long time ago, there's still always been a small part of her insisting that it could happen.
Her optimism had been picturing heartfelt conversations, apologies, and tearful hugs.
Reality had given her fumbling, tone deaf public humiliation. And it's chemically altered and most likely insincere to boot.
Not that anyone else is going to see it that way.
"But inevitably, you'll be back again.
"'Cause you know in your heart, babe, our love will never end…"
They'll see the same thing: a wounded, heartbroken father, pouring his feelings out onto the stage just to try and get his callous, uncaring daughter to talk to him again.
Never mind that it's only happening because he's high on painkillers (surely that just means he's been so upset that he needed a little extra courage to act on his feelings). Never mind that the song he's singing is wildly inappropriate (weren't you paying any attention? He's high on painkillers. His judgement's a little clouded). Never mind what actually happened to cause the split in their relationship in the first place (it was over ten years ago. Can't bygones just be bygones?). Never mind that nothing close to an apology has passed through his lips (whatever happened it had to be her fault. He's already being the bigger person by making this gesture).
There's no winning after this. Of that Riley is certain. Everyone's either watching him or watching her, waiting to see what happens. And she can either suck it up and stifle all of her feelings to join her dad and earn the party's cheers only to return to the status quo in an hour or a day or however long it takes for the euphoric glow of the Vicodin to wear off, or she can listen to her gut and walk away, protecting herself but proving to everyone else that she just doesn't care about her dad anymore.
Both ways end with their relationship still stifled and distant. One just dangles hope in front of her face and makes everyone like her for a little while before yanking it away again.
It's probably not worth it.
"Oh, don't you know you can't escape me.
"Ooh darling, 'cause you'll always be my baby…"
"What do you want me to do?" Lucas asks, sliding his hand down her arm to wrap her fingers in his.
With a touchstone drawing her back from the cold and her thoughts, Riley's struck by two things: the uncertainty and the agonizing pounding of her heart.
She doesn't know what to do. Lucas has so far done everything she's asked of him, so she could send him up to the stage to drag her dad off and put an end to the performance but doing that wouldn't really end anything. Everyone's watching and waiting, and that's not going to go away now that the idea is out into the universe. What comes next is going to be the conversation point whether her dad's on that stage or not, and whatever she chooses is a no-win answer and Riley just wants to cry because none of this is supposed to be happening.
Her reunion with her parents was never supposed to be like this.
Her relationship with her parents was never supposed to be like this.
But it is, and now there's no masking it out of politeness. Everyone can see it in its full fundamentally broken and ugly glory. And it hurts. More than she would have thought considering she's been dealing with it for over ten years.
Maybe it's because she's tired or maybe it's something else, but whatever the reason, this suddenly feels like a fresh wound and Riley doesn't know what to do.
"I-," She starts and breaks off just as suddenly. Her voice cracks, wet and tiny and weak and that's not the sort of thing she even lets her best friend hear most of the time, let alone a deck full of partygoers or a near-stranger fake boyfriend; Riley can't move forward without at least trying to swallow that down and be strong. "I think I'm ready to go back to the hotel now."
"We can do that." Lucas nods. He starts to navigate them through the throngs of people, drawing her closer when the partygoers notice and start variations on pointing, commenting, and giggling.
Riley leans into the embrace, trusting Lucas to guide her and deal with anything else that might come into their path. She draws from his steady warmth and gentle presence, keeps her eyes on the ground as she walks, and doesn't even realize that she's lost the battle with her tears until her vision becomes so blurry that she can barely tell when her feet step in and out of view.