Emancipating Andie

Chase took a deep breath, pulling himself out of the memory. “After a while, I started to think about transferring. I figured med school couldn’t be as bad as being a constant disappointment. But then he left,” he said with an indifferent shrug.

“He left?”

“I’m sorry, I should have been more specific. He moved in with the nurse he’d been screwing behind my mother’s back for three years.”

Andie’s eyes went wide as her mouth dropped a little.

“You know what the messed up thing was, though? For a while after, I kept thinking I should have just gone to med school. That if I had just sucked it up and did what he wanted me to do, he would have been happy, and then he would have stayed.” He looked over at Andie. “But I know that’s not true. He was who he was. Nothing I did was ever go

Andie sat there with her eyes downcast, fiddling with her fingers. “How old were you?” she asked.

“Nineteen. I was right about to start my third year at Cornell. I almost didn’t go back. I mean shit, the only reason I started that stupid degree was for him. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I worked my ass off there. And I wasn’t go

Andie laughed softly before her expression straightened again. “Do you still talk to him?”

He shook his head. “He calls sometimes. I’m not sure if it’s because his conscience gets the better of him every so often or because he’s bored and just looking to push someone around, but either way, I’m not interested.”

It was silent for a moment before Andie said, “It sounds like you guys were better off without him.”

“I definitely was, that’s for sure. But my mom?” He shook his head. “She was devastated. I never understood why she loved that prick, but she was lost without him. Most of my time was spent taking care of her after that. Just trying to put her back together.”

“Well, I’m glad she had you,” Andie said with such conviction that Chase felt a slight pang in his chest. He smiled gently at her.

“Are you and your mom still close?” she asked.

“She died four years ago.”

He heard the soft intake of breath before she whispered, “Chase. I’m so sorry.”

The ache in his chest intensified. And not because he was talking about his asshole father, or because he was thinking about his mother. It was because of the way she said those words. It was an automatic response for someone to say they were sorry when a loved one died. It was rote. Robotic, even. A formality.

But the sincerity and the compassion she had injected into those four words washed over him, making him feel entirely vulnerable, yet at the same time, completely at peace.

“You know that thing you said yesterday, about everything happening for a reason?” Chase took a deep breath before he looked over at her. “I never believed that before, but I hope you’re right. I hope it will all make sense to me one day.”

She smiled sadly, and when he noticed her eyes were glassy, he cleared his throat, looking away from her. Chase tightened his hand on the wheel, fighting the overwhelming urge he had to reach over to her.

“There’s a positive to all this, though,” he said, wanting to convince her. “I mean, I spent the first part of my life trying to please my father, and the second part of it living for my mother. And now I don’t live for anyone but myself.”

Andie said nothing, and after a minute, Chase turned to her. “I know that sounds selfish and insensitive, but Dr. Seuss says it’s okay.”

“What?” she asked with a tiny laugh.

“Come on, English major, you’ve never read Dr. Seuss? ‘Be who you are, and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.’” He turned his eyes back to the road. “I do what I want to do. I refuse to hold back what I’m thinking or what I’m feeling anymore. And if someone doesn’t like it, then they don’t need to be in my life. If that makes me an asshole, then so be it. I don’t want to spend any more time trying to make other people happy. Life is much more enjoyable when you’re surrounded by people who just accept you for you.”

The car grew silent, but he could see her still fiddling with her fingers out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t agree with me,” he finally said.

“No, I do…I just…” She trailed off.

“Are you really going to try and dispute a Seussian point? Isn’t that sacrilegious?”

Andie laughed. “No, I just…I just think that sometimes, it’s better to do what you know is right.”

“Even if that means living according to someone else’s standards? If it means denying yourself happiness?” he asked. “You think that’s better?”

“Well, maybe not better, but it’s…smarter sometimes? Or safer?” She shook her head quickly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

There it was again, that bizarre reference to being safe.

Chase glanced over at her before he said, “Are you telling me you’ve never done something just for you? For no other reason besides the fact that it was what you wanted? Screw consequences?”

“Yeah, when I went snooping around Justin’s wine cellar. Look how that turned out.”

Chase laughed before he said, “I’m serious, though. You’ve never tossed aside everyone else’s opinions and just went for something you wanted?”

She shrugged, saying nothing as she looked away from him.

He watched her for a moment before he turned his eyes back to the road. He understood what she was trying to say. Christ, hadn’t he told her only yesterday that he’d never known anyone who played by the rules as much as she did? Of course the idea of blowing off other people’s expectations and conventions sounded foreign to her.

But she hadn’t balked at his notion. She hadn’t even mocked it. She just seemed completely terrified by it.

They fell back into an easy silence as he switched lanes. There was the strangest feeling in his chest. He felt…buoyant. There was no other word for it. It felt surprisingly good to talk about that part of his life again. And he realized the reason for that was because he was discussing it with someone who genuinely gave a shit.

He looked over at her; she was completely lost in her thoughts, and Chase noticed the crease between her brows, the one that appeared whenever she was fighting a frown.

He didn’t want her to be frowning. He wanted her to feel the way he felt.

He opened his mouth to speak just as they rounded a bend in the road, and a wide lake appeared on the left. His eyes flashed to the broad expanse of water, and the idea dawned on him almost immediately.

Without even using his blinker, he abruptly pulled the car onto the shoulder.

Andie sat up straight in her seat. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He unbuckled his belt and got out of the car, walking around to her side. “Come on,” he said as he opened her door.

“What happened? What are we doing?” she asked, confused.

He held one finger up to his lips and then crooked it at her, beckoning her out of the car. She glanced at it and then back up at him, conceding with a small huff as she unbuckled her belt. As soon as she was out of the car, he gripped her wrist, crossing the street and taking her with him.

“Chase,” she said.

“Shh,” he said through a laugh, holding his finger to his lips again as he walked her across the expansive front lawn of the house they had stopped in front of, the only house visible on the long stretch of road they were on. He kept his hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her around the side of the little house and through the backyard.

“I’m going to take a shot in the dark and assume you don’t know these people?” Andie whispered, tripping over her feet in the effort to follow him as she glanced around nervously.