Life's What You Make It: Love's Great Adventure Book 1

by Troutman, Theresa

  Tess took the cup and stepped back, allowing him to enter the house. She was only half dressed, her white blouse still untucked and no shoes on her feet. “Give me ten minutes to finish getting ready,” she said as she scurried away, leaving him to his own devices.

  Sebastian settled onto the sofa and drank his coffee. His eye caught an invitation-sized envelope sitting on the coffee table. He could see that the postmark was from England and tensed up immediately, recognizing the script—it was from his mother. He opened it, although he knew it wasn’t his place to do so. It was a personal invitation to dinner from his mother to Tess. She wanted to meet the tutor who had done such a magnificent job getting her son to buckle down and achieve good marks, it said. The date of the dinner was tomorrow.

  He was still holding the card in his hand when Tess finally joined him. She was fully dressed and ready for the school day. “Oh, you found the invitation. Did you know about this?” Tess inquired, not bothered that he had opened it.

  “I had no idea,” he admitted. “You’re not going, are you?”

  “Of course I’m going,” Tess told him, grabbing her coat from the closet.

  “I’d prefer you didn’t.”

  Tess gave him an odd look in return. “Sebastian, you need to tell me what’s going on. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

  “I don’t want you to go because I don’t want to be around you,” he blurted out. Of course, that wasn’t the way he meant to say it, but it was too late.

  “Oh,” was all she could manage to verbalize, confusion flooding her expression.

  “Tess, I don’t want to be around you because I don’t like who I become when I’m with my mother. I go to a very dark place with her that I don’t want you to see. I don’t know how to stop it. I’d prefer you stay away from me while she’s in town,” he explained.

  “She invited me to dinner. How can I refuse? How bad could it be?” She spoke in short bursts tinged with a hint of annoyance.

  “I can’t stop you, can I?” he sighed, defeated.

  “No.”

  “You’d better wear the Chanel, then. Jeans are not permitted at the dinner table.”

  She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. It made his heart feel a little bit lighter. “Everything is going to be okay,” she whispered.

  He pulled her closer and kissed her again, wanting to believe her, but he knew better.

  Sebastian arrived home after school. Alice cornered him when he opened the kitchen door and told him that his mother was in the library and wanted to see him immediately. He slowly walked down the hall with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sebastian reached for the library door and turned the knob, trying to collect himself before he entered.

  “Sebastian, sit and have some tea with me,” she instructed, her voice flat and serious.

  “No, thank you,” he replied, standing only a few feet into the room.

  She looked up at him and began her discourse. “I must say, I’m very impressed with your marks ever since you began at St. Alexander’s. I’m glad you took my warning to heart. I’ve invited your tutor to dinner tomorrow evening. I’d like to meet the person who influenced you so positively.”

  “Her name is Tess Hamilton and she has done a fine job of tutoring me, but do you really need to bring the hired help to the house for dinner, Mother?” he asked with a clipped British accent. He hoped that if he pretended to hate his tutor, maybe Lady Irons would cancel the dinner.

  “I’ve taken from my discussions with the Cummings that you have befriended this girl.”

  “Of course, I’ve befriended her. If I have to be stuck with her for the entire school year, I might as well have her on my side.”

  “And what side might that be, Sebastian?”

  He laughed. “I’m not fucking her, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Mind your language, Sebastian. Now go to your room. Dinner will be at seven o’clock.” The discussion, as far as she was concerned, was over.

  “I’m not hungry,” he replied, turning on his heel and leaving the room, getting in the last word.

  Sebastian slammed his bedroom door. He turned on the TV and lit a cigarette. Paul Young’s Come Back and Stay video was playing on MTV. He wasn’t sure what his next move should be. He had wanted his mother to think that he didn’t like Tess, to prevent her from being invited to the house. Obviously, that hadn’t worked.

  Henry had started a fire in the fireplace and it helped to remove the chill in his bones left by the brief visit with his mother. The crackling sound and the aroma of burning wood were comforting. Alice had left him a sandwich on the coffee table and he smiled. These two people were more parental than the woman who had given birth to him. Sebastian had confided in them just how difficult this time with his mother would be for him, and here they were still taking care of him.

  This house was his safe haven. It was the place where he found the family he’d always wanted. Now his mother was here to ruin it all. He sat on the floor in front of the fireplace with his back against the sofa. Sebastian reached under the furniture and pulled out a bottle of scotch. He poured himself a glass and let his mind slip away. There was a knock on the door. “Who is it?”

  “Henry. May I come in?”

  “Enter.” He shifted the open bottle and glass behind him to conceal the liquor.

  Henry found Sebastian sitting on the floor smoking a cigarette and staring at the TV. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “She invited Tess to dinner tomorrow,” Sebastian said out of nowhere, still staring blindly at the image of U2 on the television. “I couldn’t convince either one of them that it was a poor idea.”

  “I think Tess can take care of herself,” Henry assured Sebastian. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll be okay when she leaves.”

  “If you need anything, just let me know.” Henry stood up to leave. “Your mother has me running errands all day tomorrow in preparation for the holidays. You’re welcome to join me if you want to get out of the house.”

  “Thanks, I’ll think about it,” he replied softly, lost in his thoughts.

  He didn’t have to think very hard. He left with Henry early the next morning, avoiding his mother. They finished the last of the errands around three o’clock and headed back home. Sebastian snuck up the servants’ staircase and made a quiet dash to his bedroom. He closed the door without a sound and locked it behind him for privacy. He wished he had some pot so he could get stoned and numb himself to the impending dinner party. Instead he had to settle for a Dunhill. He lit up and walked into the closet to pull out his tuxedo. He laid the tux across the bed and frowned.

  “Fuck it,” he muttered in disgust. He lay down on the leather sofa, pulled the scotch out from under the furniture, and took a swig straight from the bottle. It immediately warmed him as it slid down his throat, but he knew that no amount of alcohol was going to sufficiently brace him for the hours to come.

  Tess arrived three hours later. Alice greeted her at the front door. “Let me take your coat, and then I’ll introduce you to Lady Irons.”

  “I’m a little nervous,” Tess admitted. “Sebastian didn’t want me to come to dinner tonight.”

  “I know. He’s been out of sorts lately. I think he’ll cheer up when he sees you.”

  Alice walked down the hallway and stopped at the library door. After a gentle knock, she opened the door. “Lady Irons, I’d like to introduce Tess Hamilton.”

  Tess stepped forward. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Lady Irons was sitting behind the desk, confident and imposing, like the President of the United States. “Miss Hamilton, welcome to my home. I’m very grateful for your hard work in tutoring my defiant son. I know he isn’t an easy person to deal with. I applaud your patience. ”

  “Sebastian has worked very hard to turn his grades around. I’m very proud of him.”

  Just then, the phone on the desk rang. “Excuse me
, I’m expecting this call. Alice, take Miss Hamilton to the sitting room. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

  Alice nodded and escorted Tess from the library. “Is she always that proper and stiff?” Tess leaned in and whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is Sebastian?”

  “Upstairs in his room hiding. Why don’t you go up and get him.”

  Tess dashed upstairs to Sebastian’s room. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Sebastian, are you in there?”

  He slowly stood up from the sofa. Buzzed from the alcohol, he weaved his way across the room and opened the door.

  She entered the bedroom and said, “I saw your mother downstairs.” Then she noticed the half-empty bottle in his hand, the intense aroma of alcohol on his breath, and the stench of cigarettes swirling around him. “What are you doing?”

  “Drinking, obviously.”

  “Do you really think drinking is the answer?”

  “It seems to help,” he snapped. “Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone,” he replied with a glib smirk on his face. He knew those incessant religion classes would come in handy at some point.

  Tess didn’t need to be reminded of her indiscretion at The Jug. “Do you think getting drunk is going to save you from your mother?” She reached out and took the bottle from his hand.

  His anger raged. “Put it down!”

  “No!” Tess stood up to him with both passion and concern. She moved toward the bathroom to pour the remainder of the bottle down the drain. “You don’t need this, Sebastian.”

  “I don’t need your help,” he seethed. “This is my room and my home and my bottle of scotch and I will do whatever I bloody well please!” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. “Give me the bottle, Tess,” he demanded.

  Her face winced in pain from his grip, but instead of crying, she became more infuriated with him. “Far be it for me to stand in the way of the great Sebastian Irons,” Tess mocked him as she shoved the bottle into his chest. He released her from his tight grip and clutched onto the scotch instead. “You’re an ugly drunk. I’ll be downstairs having dinner with your mother and sister.”

  And then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

  Sebastian placed the bottle of scotch on his bedside table. He made a fist and slammed it into the wooden door. Reeling back in pain, he cursed. “Motherfucker.” Looking down at his hand, he saw his knuckles begin to bleed. He stumbled into the bathroom and ran cold water over his throbbing hand. After wrapping it in a wet washcloth, he rang for Henry.

  When Henry answered the page, Sebastian was sitting on the edge of the closed toilet seat, his head hung in shame. Henry knelt down next to Sebastian and slowly removed the bloodied wash cloth from his hand. “What the hell were you doing?”

  “Had a fight with the door,” he mumbled.

  “And lost, from the looks of this.” Henry examined the cuts and peeling skin. His hand was beginning to swell. “You might need an x-ray.”

  “No, just wrap it up for me.”

  “You smell like a distillery. Where did you get the booze?”

  “Roger Wilco liquor store in New Jersey, where it’s perfectly legal for me to buy it.”

  Henry shook his head in disapproval. “You were doing so well—why did you do it?”

  “Because I fuck things up. That’s what I do, Henry. Wasn’t that what you were waiting for?”

  “Grow up,” Henry spat with disgust.

  “Get out! I’m sorry I even called for you,” Sebastian shouted.

  Henry grabbed Sebastian by the arm and pulled him upright. “No, you don’t get off that easy. You’re coming downstairs and sobering up so you can apologize to Tess. How dare you leave her to fend for herself with your mother. She is completely out of her element down there, and has a look of sheer panic on her face all because you deserted her.”

  Henry escorted Sebastian downstairs to the kitchen and shoved him toward the table. “Sit down.”

  Sebastian did as he was told. He had never seen Henry so angry and wasn’t enjoying being the object of his wrath. Loudly banging about the kitchen, Henry started a pot of coffee. Then he grabbed the first aid kit from the pantry.

  Alice walked into the kitchen between serving courses to Lady Irons. She looked at Sebastian’s hand and gasped. “What on earth!” She quickly rushed over to his side and examined his hand. “Tess said you weren’t feeling well. She didn’t say anything about the blood.”

  “Don’t coddle him, Alice,” Henry warned. “Dumbass decided to get plastered and use the door as a punching bag.”

  “Don’t be so mean. He’s hurt.”

  “If I weren’t trying to sober him up, I’d do more than break his hand.”

  “Go on, then. Put me out of my misery,” Sebastian whispered.

  “That would be too easy. You’re going to do the right thing.” Henry opened the first aid kit and pulled out a bottle of iodine. Liberally dosing a cotton ball, he began dabbing the cuts on Sebastian’s knuckles.

  “Bloody hell!” Sebastian exclaimed as he jumped from the sting of the antiseptic.

  “Sit still or you can take care of this on your own.” Henry reached for a tube of ointment and squeezed it on the wound, then wrapped Sebastian’s hand in white gauze and secured the bandage with tape.

  Alice placed a mug of black coffee in front of Sebastian. He thanked her, and then took a sip. The sound of a ringing bell came from the dining room, beckoning Alice back to duty.

  “I suggest you pull yourself together. Tess deserves an apology,” Henry barked.

  After the dessert plates were cleared, Lady Irons excused herself and bade farewell to Tess. She needed to call the UK to discuss business. Henry had entered the room with Tess’ coat and purse. She took them silently and slipped out the front door.

  Tess escaped into the cold December night. She fumbled for her car keys and dropped them on the ground, jolted from a voice whispering from behind.

  “I’m so sorry.” Sebastian was standing there against a tree, dressed in jeans and a flimsy sweater, his hands shoved in the pockets to ward off the cold and hide his injury. Tess turned around to face him, a burst of her white breath visible in the air. “I really am,” he reiterated. “I had no right to be angry with you. I wish I could take it all back. Can you forgive me?”

  Tess stared at him for a long moment. He was shivering in the cold without an overcoat, reaching out for help and wanting to be forgiven. In an instant, all the anger between them melted away. She quickly stepped forward and took him in her arms, burying her head in his quivering chest. “You have to stop drinking. It hurts me too much to see you like this.” She lifted her head to look him in the eye. “I can forgive you if you promise to not act like this anymore,” Tess pleaded.

  He kissed her on the lips, the faint smells of scotch and mint toothpaste on his breath. “I love you.”

  It was the first time he’d said those words to her. In fact, it was the first time he had ever uttered those words to any girl. Three small words that could be exhilarating, dangerous, scary, and wonderful all at the same time. It may not have been the way he’d envisioned the moment in his head, but it was real and honest.

  She stood there dumbstruck, unable to repeat it back, looking at him. He didn’t know what she was thinking, couldn’t read it in her face or her posture. Tess remained still, continued to stare straight at him—or perhaps through him. When she finally managed to speak, she said, “Okay. You’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.”

  Sebastian took his hand out of his pocket.

  Tess noticed the bandage and let out a heavy sigh. “Honestly, can’t you do anything right today?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “An ice pack and aspirin would be good.”

  “Fine, but we’re going through the kitchen so I can avoid bumping into your mother.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.”

>   Henry and Alice looked up from washing the dishes when Tess and Sebastian came in through the back door. They were holding hands. Henry nodded at Sebastian with approval for working things out with Tess.

  “Alice, do you have an ice bag I can borrow?” Tess asked.

  Alice scurried from the room and returned in short order. Filling the bag with ice cubes from the freezer, she handed the bag to Tess. “Thanks. I’m going to see he gets to bed. I’ll be back down in a few minutes.”

  Tess poured him a glass of water and took some aspirin from the bathroom cabinet while Sebastian warmed himself in front of the fire. The tables had turned: now she was taking care of him, just as he had done for her that night at The Jug.

  “How’s your hand?”

  “The ice is helping.” He put the aspirin in his mouth and took a sip of water.

  “I really am sorry,” he apologized again. “The one thing I never wanted was to have you get involved with mother. Instead I pushed you right into her lair.”

  “Dinner was brutal. She just stared at me the whole time, badgering me with questions, making me feel inadequate and not worthy to be in her presence. Maybe now I have some small understanding of what she must put you through,” Tess admitted. “It still doesn’t excuse your behavior.”

  “I know. Henry already gave me my comeuppance.”

  “Good.” She nervously looked at the clock. “I need to get home. If you’d like to come over for Christmas Eve dinner, I’d like to see you. You can bring Nanny Jones, too.”

  “I’d like that very much,” he admitted, quickly accepting the invitation.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stepped next to him, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek. A moment later, she was gone.

  She seemed so eager to leave him that he didn’t have a chance to find out what she was thinking. He’d told her he loved her and she couldn’t even say it back. She did invite him to dinner. That was something—a tick on the plus side. He was grateful for the chance to redeem himself yet again. Why was he so flawed? It gnawed at him. Why was he always apologizing? He figured he should change his name to Sebastian “I’m sorry” Irons. Maybe one day she’d get so fed up that apologizing would no longer work.