Sway (Keeping Score Book 6)
Page 17
My mother’s eyes widened, and I felt a moment of guilt. I never meant to hurt her, but I also didn’t need to hear her wax rapturously about soul mates and fairy tale endings that I happened to know didn’t ever come true.
“Your father and I had bumps, that’s true,” she allowed now, her voice tight. “But we also ended up back together, didn’t we?”
“Oh, really?” I stuck my head out into the hallway and pretended to look up and down. “Where’s dear old dad right now, then? I haven’t seen him since before I graduated from college. Maybe this time, he’s actually gone for good.” I held up both hands. “Fingers crossed.”
“How can you say that?” This time, she sounded as though I’d hurt her. “He’s your father, Sarah. He’s the man who gave you life, who raised you and gave you a home.”
“No, that was you, Mom.” I softened my tone and lay my hand on her arm. “You gave me life. You made a home for Dana, Reena and me. You raised us on your own. Rick was just someone who popped in now and then to play house with you, between other women. He’s not my father. He’s just the sperm donor.”
Down the hallway, another door opened, and my sister Dana poked her head out. “Hey, you look hot.” She flashed me a smile, and in it, I saw both understanding and warning. Dana was the classic middle child; she hated conflict, which cast her in the role of perpetual peacekeeper in our family. I knew for a fact that she didn’t care for Rick any more than I did, but she also had more empathy for our mother than I ever managed to exhibit. “Mom, we should take a picture. We don’t know when Sarah’s going to get all glammed up again. We need to have evidence for posterity.”
My mom, always eager to avoid an argument, retreated toward her own room. “I’ll get my phone. Just a second.”
Once she’d disappeared, Dana turned eyes on me that were faintly chastising. “Why do you get on her like that? You know she’s never going to change. She loves him. God only knows why she does, but there it is.”
“She could do so much better,” I muttered. It was the eternal argument: I maintained that one day, our mother, who was an intelligent, capable and strong woman, would wake up and realize what a worthless asshole Rick was. She’d stop taking his calls and texts, and she’d kick him to the curb if he dared to show his face.
Dana, on the other hand, believed that Mom would cling to her love for our father until her dying day. For some reason, instead of making her angry, that realization enabled her to show Mom compassion, something I’d never managed.
Reena had always taken a different path than either Dana or me. She chose to ignore the situation. I’d heard her tell friends that her father had died when she was a baby, leaving her mother with a broken heart. Well, it was as good a story as any, I supposed, and maybe it wasn’t that far off from the truth. Rick was dead to me, and he’d certainly hurt Mom more often than he’d helped her.
“Here we are.” Mom sailed out of her room, holding the phone up and squinting at the screen. “Let’s go out into the living room, Sarah. It’s too dark in here to get a decent picture.”
For the sake of my mother and my sister, I allowed them to take as many photos as they wanted, standing in front of the fireplace, posing at the base of steps, all the while pasting on as realistic a smile as I could imagine, until finally I’d had enough.
“Okay, that’s it.” I held up both hands. “The car should be here any minute now. I’m going to grab my purse and my coat.”
I retrieved both items from my bedroom, along with the small overnight bag I’d packed earlier. Since the party would likely go late into the night, Gideon’s parents had invited me to stay with them in New York and go home Sunday. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. The idea of spending the night in casa Maynard made me even more nervous than the thought of being Gideon’s date for the big party, but there had been no gracious way to refuse. I was going to have to just get through it all.
Before I left my bedroom, I paused once more to check the mirror. I had no idea why I was so worried about how I looked; I’d never had anxiety about what I wore or how I did my hair. At some point in my growing up years, I’d simply stopped giving a fuck about what anyone else might think. So why did today matter?
“Has anyone heard from Reena?” Dana picked up her phone, her fingers skimming over the touchscreen. “She has the car, and I need it. I’m babysitting for the Beckworths tonight.”
My mother sighed. “I don’t know where she is. She mentioned something about . . . friends, and maybe shopping? But you know Reena. There’s no fencing her in.”
I clenched my jaw. “Because she thinks it’s okay for her to run wild. No one is telling her not to do it. She gets away with shit that Dana and I never would’ve even tried when we were her age.”
Mom offered me a tight smile. “I seem to recall you missing quite a few curfews when you were dating Leo Taylor, Sarah.” She swung her focus to my sister. “And Dana, there was the night you never came home, because you’d driven down the shore with a bunch of your friends, and the car ran out of gas.”
Dana had the good grace to look abashed. “Yeah, that’s true. Reena’s just . . .” She trailed off, her gaze meeting mine. We’d had some serious discussions about our youngest sister and her wild ways. I had a deep dread that Reena was going to wind up in serious trouble one of these days, but my mother seemed to prefer to remain oblivious.
“She’s so much like your dad.” Mom exhaled long, a dreamy expression filling her eyes. “I’m hoping that he can have a talk with her when he’s home next month.”
Shock made my mouth drop, and then both Dana and I spoke at once.
“What the hell do you mean, when he’s home next month?”
“Dad’s coming home? When did this happen?”
Not surprisingly, my mother chose to answer Dana’s question. “He called last weekend. His job in Texas is wrapping up, and so he’s going to be able to be home for the holidays! Won’t that be wonderful? We can have a family Christmas for the first time in . . . well, I don’t know how long.” She gave me a side hug. “And with you home, too, Sarah, it’s going to be just perfect.”
My heart was pounding, and everything in my brain was screaming, oh, hell, no. There was no way I was going to stay in this house if Rick was here, too. We hadn’t lived under the same roof since I was a sophomore in high school. And I’d told my mother more than once that if he came back, I would leave.
But now, of course, I was a visitor here. I couldn’t threaten Mom with my moving out, when I’d grown up and left home already. Dana was getting ready to move up to central Jersey to finish her college career, and Reena didn’t care enough to force our mother into a choice between us and her husband.
I wasn’t going to stay here for Christmas with him here. That wasn’t even a question. Where I’d go, what I would do . . . I’d figure that out, but I had zero interest in playing a role in my mother’s delusional holiday scenario.
Before I could give voice to those thoughts, the doorbell rang. Both Mom and Dana jumped, but I was the one who moved quickly to answer the door. I expected to see a uniformed driver there, letting me know my ride to New York was waiting, but when I swung open the door, I could only stare in surprise.
Gideon stood on our small front porch. He was all dressed up in a dark suit, complete with a snowy white shirt and a red silk tie. A half-smirk curved his mouth as his eyes roved over me.
He looked delicious.
“Hey, princess.” His voice was amused. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“I—um.” Shit, the last thing I wanted to do was pull Gideon into the middle of the tension in my family just now. But it would’ve been rude to yell to my mom that I was leaving without introducing her, and I’d left my small clutch purse on the sofa, along with my dressy coat and my overnight bag.
“Sure. Of course.” I took one step backward. “I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you were sending a car—I didn’t think you were coming with it.”
“Jennifer Jenkins.” My mom’s face was all awe and stars. “It’s nice to meet you, Gideon. Sarah’s told us so much about you.”
“Really?” He glanced my way. “Only believe half of it.” He angled his body toward my sister and nodded. “Hey.”
“This is Dana, my sister.” I tried to remember if I’d ever mentioned either of my siblings to Gideon.
“Hi, there.” Dana smiled. “I’ve seen you play. You’ve got moves.”
“Thanks.” Gideon chuckled. “You’re a football fan, then?”
“Yeah, though my team is Philadelphia. Tate Donavan is super hot.” Dana fanned herself, and I bit back a bark of laughter. Tate was married to one of my high school classmates, and Dana was perpetually requesting an introduction.
“I don’t know about the hot part, but he’s a damn good player,” Gideon agreed.
“Won’t you sit down? Can I get you something to drink?” Having awoken from her shock, Mom was ready to slide into entertainment mode. She bustled toward the kitchen in anticipation of Gideon saying yes, but I stopped her before things could get too far out of hand.
“Mom, we need to go.” I was firm as I avoided meeting Gideon’s eyes. “We can’t be late for his grandparents’ party. And it’s a long drive up to New York.”
“Oh.” She looked momentarily deflated, and for the second time in less than an hour, I had to swallow back the guilt. “All right, sure. I understand.” She touched Gideon’s arm. “Maybe another time. You’re welcome to come visit Sarah here any time, while she’s home for the holidays.” Her eyes lit up. “Maybe you could come around Christmas. Her dad will be home then, and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
Horror made me move fast. I swept up my bags and coat and grabbed Gideon’s arm. “We’re going now. Dana, have fun babysitting tonight. Mom, I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. Don’t worry about me. See you both later.”
We were halfway down the sidewalk, heading for the long black town car at the curb, before I slowed down. Gideon pulled my coat away from me.
“You’ve got to be freezing. Here, let me help you with this.”
“No, thanks.” I shook my head. “The car will be warm enough. I just brought it in case I had to be outside for any length of time. But I don’t want to crush my dress before I get there.” I got to the car and reached for the handle.
“Sarah.” Gideon caught my hand in his, his fingers closing over mine. “Slow down. We’re not in that much of a hurry.” He ran his warm hands over my bare arms. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
“I just want to go,” I whispered. “I don’t want to be here anymore. Can we please just leave?”
A frown wrinkled his brow, but Gideon nodded. “Of course.” He opened the back door and helped me into the seat, pausing to pass my coat and small suitcase to the driver before he climbed into the car, too. Once the door had slammed behind us, we were cocooned in our own little world of soft gray leather and gleaming wood. I let out a long breath and sagged against the seat.
“Sarah . . .” Gideon’s voice was tentative. “I hope I didn’t . . . well, I thought coming down to ride up with you would be—I don’t know, a good surprise? But I got the sense I kind of walked into the middle of something with your family. I’m sorry if I intruded.”
“Oh, Gideon, no.” I reached across to cover his hand where it rested on his thigh. “No, you coming down with the car was a wonderful surprise, and I’m so happy you did it.” I hesitated. “But yes, something was going on. Just before you got there, my mom announced that Rick—my father—is coming for Christmas.” I let my head drop onto the headrest, my eyes closing.
For a long moment, there was only silence in the car. I rolled my head to one side and halfway opened my eyes. “You might not remember what I told you about my father—”
“Oh, I remember.” Gideon’s voice was tight. “Of course, I remember.”
“Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t,” I reasoned. “It was when we’d just met, and what happened after . . .” I coughed a little. “The details of our conversation might have slipped your mind.”
“They didn’t. I remember everything about that night.” He turned his hand over beneath mine so that our palms pressed together, and that move, too, reminded me of our first night at the hotel in Richmond. “You told me that your father was an asshole loser who didn’t take care of his family, and that you hate him.”
“Yes.” My chest tightened, and crazily, I felt tears threatening to spill. Blinking rapidly, I sucked in a deep breath to calm myself down. I wasn’t sure what was making me so emotional: was it gratitude toward Gideon for remembering our conversation, or was it leftover anger at my mother for dropping that bomb on me right before I left for an important party? If the near tears were brought on by something else, I didn’t want to think about it.
“Why is he coming for Christmas? And more importantly, why is your mother letting him do it?”
It dawned on me slowly that Gideon wasn’t annoyed at me for talking about my family issues; he was pissed off about Rick’s visit. His solidarity gave me a warm fuzzy feeling that probably didn’t bear too close examination.
“God only knows why Rick’s coming back now. It’s been a long time between visits . . . or at least, I think it has been a while. I have my suspicions that my mother doesn’t tell me everything, and it’s possible that Dana keeps quiet because she hates it when we fight about Rick. But the last time he actually lived at the house was when I was about sixteen.” I closed my fingers around Gideon’s, the tips of my nails brushing over his smooth wool dress pants.
“And you haven’t seen him since then?” Gideon returned the slight squeeze, comforting me even through that small contact, as though he knew I needed it.
“Oh, I’ve seen him,” I answered grimly. “He just happened to pop up for my high school graduation. That was fun—he came to the ceremony, and none of us knew he was going to be there. He sweet-talked one of the teachers into letting him in, even though he didn’t have a ticket. Said he was surprising his little girl on her big day, because he’d been out of town and managed to make it home at the last minute.” I snorted. “So then we all had to pretend it was this wonderful surprise, that we were happy to see him. Well, Dana and I had to pretend, I guess. Mom really was excited, and Reena didn’t care one way or the other. She was too young to realize what was going on.”
“I’m sorry, Sarah.” I could feel Gideon’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look away from our joined hands. I couldn’t stand it if I saw pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry that the people who should’ve known enough to respect your wishes and to protect you from shit storms were the ones to make it happen. Or to let it happen. That sucks.”
It was a succinct description of that day in my past. I felt some of the tension ease from my shoulders. “It did. He pulled the same stunt when Dana graduated a few years later, but that time, we were ready for him. I stayed for the ceremony and then I took off. I went back down to DC and hung out with friends until I knew he was gone. But I hated that he took that away from us. I didn’t get to go to my sister’s graduation party. I could’ve gritted my teeth and just avoided Rick, I guess, but I was so fucking pissed at my mother—” I broke off. “You know what? I’m not talking about this anymore. I’m not going to let that son of a bitch ruin another day for me.” I shifted a little, turning to face Gideon more fully, careful to let my hand stay securely within his hold. “I don’t think I said it, but you look damn fine today, QB.”
“Yo
u didn’t, but thanks. And I didn’t say it, but you’re beautiful, Sarah. Just—everything is perfect.”
He spoke with such sincerity and wonder that I found myself blinking rapidly again. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me, anyway? I gave my head a little shake.
“You’re sure I’m dressed all right? I didn’t want to look . . .” I tried to think of the right word. “You know, like a cheap floozy. But I wanted to be pretty, too. I guess I was going for classic elegance with a flair of sexy.”
“You nailed it, princess.” Gideon leaned back and took his time looking at me. “You’re going to be the most elegant, sexy woman at the party.”
I felt my cheeks heat in pleasure. “Thank you. I know this is just a date for your family, but I didn’t want to embarrass you. I didn’t want you to be sorry you’d invited me.”
“Never.” He smirked. “I’ve actually been looking forward to this, and I can tell you that’s never happened before. I detest family parties.”
“Do you really? Why?” I was curious about exactly what I’d be walking into tonight. I’d had plenty of drama in my own little family, thanks very much.
Gideon lifted his shoulders. “No particular reason, except everyone wants to know everything about me. They all talk football, but on this incredibly high level, because most of my relatives are involved in the game in some way, whether it’s management or player representation or some position in the League.”
“I’d expect you to love that, though,” I objected. “They’re all talking about the sport that you’ve told me more than once is your life. Why don’t you enjoy it?”
Gideon was quiet for a few seconds. “Because they don’t talk about the game. They discuss it like a business, and they refer to the players as commodities.” His lips tightened. “I believe football is a two-part entity. There’s the business end, all of the cost and the earnings and the management and so on, and then there’s the artistic element of the game. Players working hard to improve, and coaches and trainers helping that happen. What happens on the field every Sunday for four quarters—to me, that’s pure artistry.”