The Senator's Son

by Anna Albo

  I showered and put on some clothes. Thankfully I'd packed all my stuff before the party, so I didn’t have to worry about that now. I brought my bag downstairs and braved the breakfast table. Only Mrs. Walker was there.

  "Good morning, dear," she said. "Sleep well?"

  "I did. Thank you for having me at your party."

  "We love friendly faces. Help yourself to breakfast. I should probably wake the other sleepyheads."

  I wanted to throw up. As I looked through all the chafing dishes, even the sight of eggs Benedict turned my stomach. Knowing I had to eat something, I scooped some scrambled eggs and speared a slice of French toast. What if I couldn't keep it down?

  One of the staff came around and asked me what I wanted to drink. I prayed they had chamomile tea to settle my nerves and was thankful when the server said she'd be right back with it.

  I nibbled the eggs, pushing them around my plate more than anything else. Mrs. Walker returned and resumed her seat across from me. I wanted to die right there. I couldn't handle whatever would come next. I liked my life the way it was; completely uncomplicated. No kiss, no friends, no life. It was easy and all I'd ever known.

  "I've woken everyone up. They should be down shortly."

  The server returned with my tea and I longed to drink it as fast as I could. I needed something, but I'd stopped filling my anti-anxiety meds a long ago and hadn't even refilled the prescription when the whole Bianca thing went down. I was definitely longing for a Paxil right now, though. A kiss was a prelude, and I didn't want to know what came after that.

  "I hear you like to cook," Mrs. Walker said, starting up conversation.

  "I do. I find it relaxing."

  "I must confess I'm not much use in the kitchen. I have two older sisters and they and my mother did all the cooking when I was growing up. Do you have siblings?"

  I couldn't figure out if she was fishing for information, or if she genuinely wanted to know. Was she sizing me up to see whether or not I was good enough for her son? My stomach gurgled. "I have two younger brothers."

  "I bet they are picky little eaters. Zach used to be so picky when he was young. Now he'll eat just about anything."

  "I don't live with my brothers."

  "Your parents are divorced?"

  I panicked some more. Did I tell her the truth and risk her looking down on me, or just perpetuate a lie? I hated lying and I'd done enough of it with Dad.

  "Actually, my parents were never married. My dad and grandparents raised me. My mom was a teenager when she had me...fifteen."

  I expected Mrs. Walker's expression to curdle like all the other people who couldn't, or wouldn't, understand. Or, she'd give me that pitying look I hated even more. But Mrs. Walker did neither.

  "I bet your father and grandparents are lovely people. We should have them over for dinner one evening. Not to sound sexist, but was it your grandmother who taught you to cook?"

  Mrs. Walker didn't care and I couldn't believe it. "Yes, she was a great cook. She passed away three years ago."

  "I'm sorry to hear that, dear. Well, if you ever want to take over our kitchen, you can make us something anytime. I can even try to help."

  I was now convinced Zach's family were the Waltons and while that should have made me happy, it made me feel worse. I sipped tea. I needed a vat of it.

  "Morning," Zach said, entering the dining room and grabbing a plate. He filled it high with eggs, potatoes, bacon, sausages and a generous helping of grilled tomatoes. He took a seat next to me and I felt my head fog. I could not have a panic attack at their table.

  "I was just getting to know Emma," Mrs. Walker said. "I'd like to invite her family to dinner. How about after the holidays?"

  "I'd like to meet them too," Zach said.

  I sipped more tea, pinching my leg under the table to divert my attention from the looming panic attack. Pull it together, I told myself. I was not going to make a fool of myself in front of Mrs. Walker. I had to quell the butterflies fighting around in my chest. I focused on my breaths and felt the panic subside. I could do this.

  "And we won't make you cook," Mrs. Walker joked.

  I smiled. Yup, I could do this.

  Genie, Steve, and Mr. Walker joined us. The conversation was light, mostly about the party. I had a few refills of tea and listened absently to the chitchat. I kept timing my breathing, focusing on my calm place.

  "We should get out of here," Zach said, glancing at his watch. "Emma has to catch a bus back to Pine Falls early this afternoon."

  "Dear, it's been a pleasure and we hope to see you again soon," Mrs. Walker said. She reached out to hug me and I hesitated for just a second. Hug me? She scooped me into her arms. "Now you tell your father and grandfather that we are expecting them in the New Year."

  "I will."

  I put on my jacket and boots and Zach grabbed my bag. We went to his truck without exchanging any words. How long could I put him off? I was sure he was going to bring it up.

  "You know my mom is serious about having your dad and grandfather over."

  "I'll tell them." Why hadn't I taken tea for the road?

  "And you had a good time?"

  "I did. Thank you."

  He acted so cool, like nothing had happened. I knew he'd kissed a thousand girls, but he was only the second guy to ever kiss me, and the only guy to ever kiss me like that...so it was kind of a big deal. I couldn't just forget about it; the kiss changed everything.

  He talked about neutral stuff for most of the ride. His dislike for Steve, some guests he liked, others he couldn't stand but pretended to be nice to. I half-listened and when we pulled up to the apartment, I felt a sense of relief. I needed to finish packing for Pine Falls and then I'd call a cab. Even if I was at the bus station early, I didn't care. I needed space.

  Did he notice I was acting weird? I had to act as normal as possible for maybe another half hour. I packed quickly, stuffing things into my suitcase without even folding them. I pulled out my phone and called a cab. I rolled my luggage do the door and Zach looked up from the sofa where he'd been scrolling through his phone.

  "You're leaving already?" he asked, surprised. "Don't you have a couple of hours?"

  "I figured I get there early."

  He got up and as he got closer, I stepped back. He stopped, staring at me quizzically. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." My heart raced again and the fog was setting in. Keep calm.

  "You've been acting strange all day. Is this about last night?"

  My stomach bottomed out. Oh, geez. "No, no. I have to go, I've got a cab coming."

  He grasped onto my arm before I could make my escape. "Are you mad at me?"

  "I'm not mad. You have to let me go. I'm sure the cab is waiting."

  "He can wait." Zach's face was marred with confusion and concern and his hold on my arm was unwavering.

  "But they make you pay, and I don't want to get hit with a huge fare."

  "I'll pay for it. You can give me a couple of minutes."

  I set down my backpack and he let go of my arm. I dared to meet his eyes and then immediately looked away. "I don't have a lot of time."

  "Emma, what's going on?"

  "Nothing is going on. I'm anxious to go home."

  "Is this because I kissed you? I did that because I wanted to."

  His words were a knife to my heart. "You shouldn't have."

  "Why? Is this about Jake?"

  "No!"

  He let out a grunt. "This is about Jake. My God, are you still pining for that asswipe? When are you going to get that he doesn't give a shit about you?"

  "It's not about Jake!" I screamed. I'd turned all out hysterical. I felt like one of those cornered and wounded animals fighting for its life. I needed to escape before I did something stupid.

  "Then what is it?"

  "It's you!" I could feel my eyes welling with tears. I hated letting him see me cry. "It's all about you. If we start dating everything we have together will be gone. In
a few months some hot girl will come along and you'll dump me. Then I lose you and Genie. I lose everything." I wiped the tears from my eyes and felt angry. Why was he doing this?

  "That won't happen," he said, sympathy etched on his face.

  "Oh please! Are you serious? I know that right now I'm this little puppy you feel sorry for, but then I'll stop being so cute and you'll wonder why the hell you ever got mixed up with me. I don't want that. If we're just friends, then it’s different. Then everything can be okay."

  I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn't look at him. He reached out for me, but I jerked away.

  "None of that is true and I don't want to be just your friend," he said, his voice just above a whisper.

  "Well, that's all I want and you should respect that."

  He retreated, possibly hurt by my words. "Go, then," he said.

  I scooped up my belongings and bolted from the apartment. I didn't like how I'd left it, but he had to know how I felt. I couldn't lose him too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  EMMA

  Dad picked me up from the bus station and I tried to act like everything was great, but he was my dad and he saw through all my bullshit. Instead of taking me home, we stopped at Harriet's Diner, the restaurant Jake's parents owned, for a burger. We ordered, and then Dad's ice-blue eyes were trained on my face and I was withering under his silent cross-examination.

  "What's going on? No more sugary crap, just the truth."

  "Nothing's going on."

  "And you think I believe that?"

  So many lies and all I could think to do was stretch the truth. "I met a guy but I don't think it's going to work out."

  Dad shifted in his seat. The conversation of boys clearly hit a nerve. "Why not?" he asked, trying to sound sincere, like he wasn't unhappy about this revelation.

  "He's not right for me. I like him, but it just can't work."

  "You're young and have lots of time to meet boys," Dad said relieved. "I was worried this had to do with Jake."

  "No, nothing to do with Jake." At least that part was true, right at this particular moment. I was too upset about Zach to even think about Jake.

  "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

  The food arrived, buying me a few more seconds of stalling. I grabbed a French fry and dipped it into my ketchup a million times until it resembled a limp noodle. "Do I have to?"

  "I suppose not, but you seem down. Did he hurt you?" Dad asked, his eyes narrowing.

  "No, he's a really nice guy."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  I dropped the fry onto my plate, but didn't look up at Dad. "When I meet the right guy, I want it to be real. I'm not sure he does real."

  "He's a player," Dad deduced.

  "Pretty much."

  "I was one of those. Stay away from them. Look, Kiddo, you'll meet other guys. If you don't have a good feeling about this one, then it's best to walk away."

  But part of me did have a good feeling about Zach, and that's what was eating me up. The other part of me was issuing a constant reminder that I didn't want to end up like the Beccas of the world. At the end of the day Zach's word didn't mean all that much. He could say anything he wanted, but that didn't mean three months from now he'd still want to be with me.

  "Can we talk about something else? Having the boy talk with my dad is kind of weird."

  He laughed. "Let's talk Christmas. I should probably tell you that Dad has invited Wendy for dinner. She's nice enough, but I kind of like when it's just the three of us."

  That was it? End of interrogation? Boy, I'd gotten off easy.

  "Do you like her?"

  "I do, but I guess it feels like Mom is being replaced."

  "You know that he's not trying to replace her. He just doesn't want to be lonely. And sorry, Dad, you just aren't cutting the mustard."

  "I suppose."

  We finished our burgers and I was anxious to get home. I needed the safety of our house, a place that was my own. The short drive from Harriet's had me edgy. I couldn't keep my feet still and their constant tapping resulted in a look from Dad. I stopped. I nearly jumped out of the moving car when Dad pulled into our gravel driveway. Grandpa met me at the front door and gave me a big bear hug. I missed this so much.

  "My girl is home! We missed you, Emma," Grandpa said, kissing the top of my head.

  "I missed you guys, too," I said burying my face in his shoulder. If I cried now, they'd never leave me alone.

  "Did your dad tell you about Wendy?" he asked.

  "Yes, and I'm happy she's coming."

  "Are you sure?" I didn't know why they thought I'd be so bothered by it. Of course, they couldn’t know that I was more concerned with our Christmas Eve dinner at Jake's parents' house. He and I would be in the same room for the first time since he'd kicked me out.

  "Yes, of course. It'll be nice having another woman around."

  Grandpa beamed. "I hoped you'd say that. Now let's get inside before we get a chill."

  Yes, being home was exactly where I needed to be.

  A PART OF ME HOPED that Zach would call or even text. Days, then weeks, went by without a word. I was getting ready for dinner at the Bennetts’ house and wished to hear some comforting words from Zach. I pulled out my phone and hesitated for a long time before sending him a text.

  Me: I wanted to wish you a Merry Xmas. Hope all is well. I'm going to Jake's tonight so that will be super awkward. Say hi to your parents.

  I waited, not that he'd text me back instantly. But what if he didn't text at all? I sent Genie a text too and finished getting ready. What would I say to Jake? Would we just pretend it was all happy times? What if Bianca was there? My phone buzzed. I ran for it, excited for a response from Zach.

  Genie: Merry Christmas to you too. See you in a couple of weeks.

  I wanted to text her back to see if she was with Zach, but instead I put my phone in my pocket and met Dad and Grandpa downstairs.

  "Ready to go?" Dad asked, getting into his coat.

  "You bet." It was now or never.

  The Bennetts lived less than a block away. I'd walked this route so many times I could recognize every imperfection in the sidewalk. The three of us trudged through the newly fallen snow and I longed for my phone to sing to me. It didn't.

  "Emma, what do you know about Jake's girlfriend? Ron asked me and I said I'd ask you."

  Just the subject of Bianca raised my already sky-high blood pressure. What if she was there? The whole afternoon I'd vacillated between all-out panic and then a minute or two of calm once I temporarily convinced myself she wouldn’t be. Then I'd think of her again, and my hands and body would shake. I tried to busy myself with laundry, baking a pie for the Bennetts, and some reading, but all the words melted into each other. I didn't even remember what book I'd attempted to read. Mercifully, the pie and laundry were unscathed.

  "Not much." More lies.

  "I'm getting the impression the Bennetts don't care for her. This is the first time Jake hasn't spent Christmas with his family."

  I skidded to a stop. "What?"

  Dad glanced over at me looking puzzled. "You knew that, didn't you?"

  "Right, sorry, my head was in the clouds."

  Dad took a long hard look at me but resumed walking. "Ron was so pissed off. You don't bail on a Bennett family Christmas."

  I wanted to let out a gasp of relief. This news couldn't be any better. I wouldn't have to face Jake, and Dad wouldn't be able to use his super-parent power to figure out something was amiss.

  "The only thing I know for sure is that Jake really likes her." Finally, some truth out of my mouth.

  "Ron and his parents are going to grill you."

  "Dad, I don't have much to add. I barely know her."

  "Apparently she's all Jake talks about. Not with you?"

  "No, not really."

  I checked my phone again. This time there was a text, one I hadn't heard.

  000:000:0000: Merry Christmas Bitc
h.

  I gasped. Who would send me this? I stopped again to reply.

  Me: Who is this?

  "Something wrong?" Dad asked.

  "Just someone from school," I said in a fake voice. Dad had to know I was full of it.

  This time I heard the chime as the response came in.

  000:000:0000: The person who's going to fuck you up.

  My insides tightened. Bianca. Who else? I didn't know whether to be worried or angry, so I chose neither. The best course of action with a person like Bianca was to ignore her. If she kept it up, then I'd go to Jake. He'd stop this. She wanted to ruin my Christmas even though she had Jake safely in her clutches. I deleted the two texts and put my phone away. Bianca Smythe could shove it up her ass.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ZACH

  I saw the text from Emma. Nearly three weeks without a word. No, I wasn't replying. Screw that. She'd walked out and I wasn't about to forget it.

  "Cider?" Genie asked. "I spiked it."

  I hated the holidays. I would have rather stayed at my apartment and invited some of the guys over to drink beers and play poker all night. What I didn't want to do was spend Christmas with a bunch of people I didn't give two shits about, all new donors—I mean, new friends—of my parents. I'd have to be a phony bastard all night long. I could feign sickness but Mom would kill me.

  "I'm going to need about a dozen of these."

  "Tell me about it. Why didn't you invite Emma?"

  "Why would I invite her?" I snapped.

  Genie scowled. "Relax, I was just asking a question. I thought she might like it."

  "I told you she went home."

  "Isn't it just her dad and grandfather? You could have invited them all. It's not like we don't have enough strays here."

  "After the last party, I think she'd probably say no." Shit, I’d said too much. Genie's eyes narrowed and she zeroed in for the kill.

  "What are you talking about? She had a great time."

  "But then I fucked it up."