Don't Talk About Mickey

27 - Stateside

Carly stood curbside at Terminal E of DFW International Airport, impatiently darting her eyes at each car and shuttle-bus that passed by. She was beyond relieved to be back in Texas, where she could find a moments peace without her mother or Sebastian at her side.

The plane ride back into the states had been nothing but uncomfortable and smothering. Eliza had been skimming magazines, sipping the free first-class champagne while Sebastian was uncharacteristically quiet. It had made her uneasy and the tension among them was so solid that she had wondered if the other passengers on the plane could sense it, too. Most likely not, but she didn't have to worry about that now.

When her Dad's black Honda pulled up, she grabbed her suitcase and hurled it into the trunk. Susan tagged along for the ride so Carly was forced to sit in the back with Devon's empty car seat and baby snack wrappers. She grimaced at the site of the dirty car, reminding herself that she was never going to have children.

"How was your trip?" Dad asked, as he maneuvered the car through the endless exit.

Carly shrugged. If she could've wiped away the memory of Cabo she would've done it in a heartbeat. She decided to change the subject. "Where's Devon?"

"Oh, he's with the babysitter," Susan answered politely. "Your dad and I thought we could treat you to lunch, and Devon's still so hard to handle in public places."

Carly eyed the back of her stepmother's head. She could see exactly why her dad had chosen this woman to be his second wife. Susan had always been incredibly beautiful and sweet and understanding, and the complete opposite of Eliza. Not a foul thing had ever come out of her mouth, nor did she put anything foul (aka booze) in her mouth. The best, most rewarding thing about her was that she always treated Carly as one of her own.

Carly secretly wished that it were true.

For lunch, they chose a burger joint in Irving that boasted the best fries in Texas, which was hard to believe. Fries were just fries, Carly thought. Whether they were the best or not, it didn't matter because she'd lost her appetite somewhere between the squabble with Sebastian at the seafood place and now.

"You seem awfully grim today," her dad said, referring to the way Carly drearily stirred a blob of ketchup with a stiff French fry. "I take it you didn't have fun in Cabo?"

If you consider dealing with your alcoholic Mom and her pervert of a fiancé having fun. "It was okay," she replied without much enthusiasm. "Actually, it kind of sucked."

Susan, the saint of saints, chimed in. "Mexico seems to be a place you're supposed to enjoy with friends. Of course it sucked." She winked at Carly. "At least you have the debutante thing next week. That's something to look forward to."

As much as she dreaded it before, Carly felt a surge of excitement at the mention of the ball. "You're still going to be there for the father-daughter dance, right?" She looked at her dad expectantly.

"Of course I am." He smiled, popping a fry in his mouth.

This cheered her up a little. In fact, she was looking forward to it since she could spend more quality time with her dad—something that had become fairly rare as of late. Even twenty minutes at this shabby little burger shack, she felt more at home than she had since her parents split up.

They made it back to the apartment a little before three in the afternoon. Susan relieved the babysitter with her pay, leaving Devon ecstatic to see his mommy and daddy and his big sister. Carly felt the same way, especially when he beckoned her to hold him with his tiny, chubby fingers. She picked him up, hugging him and kissing him on his nearly bald head, and he returned the sweet gesture. All the bad joojoo left with her from the trip to Cabo had melted away in an instant. She was actually happy for the first time in months.