by S. Brent
“Come on,” I said as I tugged on her hand and started up to my room. “Help me find some club attire,” I said with mock snobbiness and she laughed.
Twenty minutes later we were out the door. I was clad in a pair of tan slacks, and a black, long sleeve button up shirt, tucked in, and the only pair of dress shoes I owned.
She drove us to the club on the outskirts of Roseville and pulled up to the valet. We almost never took her car when we went out but we thought it was probably a better idea to show up in a silver BMW verses a white El Camino with racing strips.
We got out and she gripped my hand like it was a lifeline. I pulled her to the side before we entered and brought her hand up to my lips and gently kissed it while I looked into her big, brown eyes. She bit the side of her bottom lip and my stomach tightened. I loved when she did that. She was perfect, even when she was looking all cute and nervous.
“Pru, it’s just dinner,” I tried to lighten the mood. I could tell she was stressed beyond stress. I had never seen Pru like this before.
“With my parents,” she said in hushed tones as her eyes darted around the restaurant nervously.
“I think I can handle them,” I teased.
“You don’t know my parents,” she was seriously worried about this dinner. Maybe I needed to be more concerned.
“Look, I’ll be right here with you the entire time.” That’s why I was here. Right? Moral support and the dreaded meeting of the parents. “We can leave whenever you’re ready,” I said trying to sooth her. I meant it. I wanted to be out of here like yesterday. I felt so out of place with the valet and crystal chandeliers.
“Okay, just dinner and then we make a break for it,” she nodded in agreement. “No deserts or after dinner coffee or drinks or anything,” she nodded I think more to herself then me. We were a team. We’d make it through this together. How bad could it really be?
“Okay,” I said and looped her arm through mine and we walked over to the hostess stand. I was trying to stay strong and keep my own nerves to myself. Pru was already a nervous mess. She didn’t need to worry about me too. I had never seen her this worried before. One of us had to stay strong and tonight that had to be me. I was going to be the calm, rational one. Her rock. I was more than happy to do this for her but less than thrilled that her parents were the reason that I was having to do this. Her parents shouldn’t be the cause of such stress in her life.
The hostess showed us to the table where her parents were already seated. Her father was busy looking at his phone and her mother was staring off into space, her eyes already a little glazed over. Was she drunk? Already?
I pulled Pru’s chair out for her, helping her guide it in before taking my own seat. At least I could show her parents I treated their daughter well, even if I didn’t fall into the right income bracket or have a cookie cutter image. The hostess handed us two menus and turned on her heels and headed back to her station but I didn’t miss the look of disapproval she flashed me before she left. I was used to those looks. I got them a lot. I had piercings and tattoos. They went hand in hand. I didn’t care. Pru didn’t seem to care. She actually seemed to love them. She was always paying extra attention to them, but her parents cared.
“Prudence,” her father said as a greeting when he finally looked up from his phone a few minutes after we had been seated. It had been quiet up until then. Pru didn’t speak so neither did I. I was following her lead.
“Father, Mother,” she said. So formal. I could never imagine calling my mom, Mother. “This is Lincoln O’Neil. My boyfriend,” she said as she introduced me again. Her mother smiled at me and winked her glazed over eye. What did that mean? Her father just scowled at me but both shook the hand I offered.
“Yes, the young man leaving my daughter’s apartment this morning,” her father sneered at me. I held my tongue. It took all of my control not to snap at him or make some witty comment about how moments before I had been leaving her bed or fucking her on the bathroom counter. I kept that to myself. I was sleeping with his daughter after all. I guess having it tossed in your face like that could be hard to deal with.
I didn’t have to say anything because he turned his attention to Pru. Maybe silence was going to be my best option for the evening.
“I’m thinking Stanford or maybe Harvard. You have the grades, the means, and connections for either school.”
What was he talking about? Stanford? Harvard? She was graduating in a few weeks. She had a teaching job all lined up, here, in Sac. Master programs maybe? I ran my fingers through my hair for the first time since we sat down. Why hadn’t she mentioned going on to get her masters to me?
“They both have excellent medical programs.”
No. Did he think he was going to send her away for more schooling? If Pru wanted to keep going to school I was fine with that. Whatever made her happy but she needed to go to school here, by me. And it needed to be her choice. He was not going to take her away from me.
Pru hated science. She was going to teach. She didn’t want to be a doctor. He was not going to send her to the other side of the country. My throat suddenly got tight. I was on the verge of a panic attack over one comment. I was starting to understand her pre dinner jitters a little better now. Her parents were vicious.
This was going to be a long dinner.
Pru didn’t say anything just made a non-committal noise. “Hmmm,” like it was all very interesting. She was smiling and it was pleasant but fake. I realized this was a smile she had practiced for years. One I never actually saw before.
I was starting to freak-out. I just got her I couldn’t lose her. Was she planning to leave me? Since when? She loved teaching. She had no intention of going to medical school. What happened when I left her this morning?
I wanted to question her. Get some answers. To just jump up in the middle of the stupid country club dining room and drag her out all caveman like screaming mine. Her parents needed to go back to wherever they came from and stop interfering. We were fine before they got here, perfectly happy. They were ruining everything. They were going to take my fairy away from me.
“Medicine is just a more respectable career then teaching. Teaching’s just so, so… common,” he finally finished.
“I don’t think there is anything common about teaching. It’s hard work and takes a wonderful person to do it,” I said before I could hold my tongue. So much for staying quiet through dinner. I suddenly felt the urge to defend Pru, to fight for her.
“And you don’t think that being a doctor is hard work or requires you to be a wonderful person?” her father asked throwing my words back at me like I was an idiot.
“I didn’t say that. Some people are meant to be doctors, other teachers, and so on. Different people have different niches,” I tried to explain as I ran my fingers through my hair. I felt Pru’s hand creep up onto my thigh and give a little squeeze. I reached down and put my hand on hers. I needed the reassurance as much as she did.
“And what’s your niche Mr. O’Neil? Bartending? Motorcycle repair? Or perhaps you are a teacher?” Her father was a condescending little ass. I was going to kill him. There was nothing wrong with any of those careers. We all couldn’t be Fortune 500 billionaires.
“No, I’m a tattoo artist,” I informed him. I was not ashamed of my choice in careers but I knew it wouldn’t meet their approval.
“He does beautiful work,” Pru piped in.
Her father just smiled and nodded like he was humoring a child. I wanted to slap him. Not because he was belittling me but because of the way he was treating her.
“And how much does one make as a tattoo artist?” her mother asked as she eyed her now empty drink. Her mother had been silent for the entire exchange. The most she had done was attempt to wink at me a few times which looked more like a spastic eye twitch. I think she was flirting with me despite her disapproval of my relationship with her daughter. Gross.
“I make descent money,” I said. I was not about to share
my W2 with these people. I ran both hands through my hair this time. I knew that no matter how much money I made I’d never be good enough. I saw that now. I was not what they envisioned for their daughter. They wanted to control her, plan her life for her. I got in the way of that.
I was not good enough for her. I knew that, had for some time, and they knew it. The only person that seemed to be in the dark about it was Pru.
“Enough to give Pru all she needs and wants in life?” her mother asked.
Probably not but I make her happy. Isn’t that what mattered? I’d never be able to buy her BMWs, or mountains of diamonds, or get her a country club membership but that never seemed to bother her.
“Mother,” Pru gasped. Her fake smile disappeared and she paled. I had never seen her do that before. That couldn’t be good. I didn’t like this.
Her mother just shrugged and smiled up at the waiter when he brought her another drink.
“You know Alan Wayne just finished law school and he got a job with a wonderful practice,” she informed her daughter not even trying to defend her previous rudeness.
“I’m happy for him.”
“Now, Alan Wayne, he could provide for you. Give you all things you wanted with a salary like he has,” her father said, “Six figures.” He smiled over at his daughter before he turned to glare at me. He was putting me in my place, letting me know I wasn’t good enough for Pru. She had options. I had always known that but I didn’t like it being flaunted in my face.
“Excuse me?” I said. I could take a lot from them for Pru’s sake but trying to pimp my own girl out in front of me was beyond my control. Her parents ignored me. Pru squeezed my leg again. She knew my temper was flaring. So much for being the calm, rational one. Her rock.
“I’m not interested in Alan Wayne. I’m more than happy being with Lincoln,” she said, perfectly calm but I could see the spark in her eyes. Her temper was rising too. I ran my fingers through my hair again. By the end of this night I was probably going to have more hair gel on my hands then in my actual hair.
“I asked him to take you to the Fourth of July barbeque,” her mother informed her like she hadn’t said anything. Was this how Pru’s life had been? Did her parents always just ignore her and talk right over her.
“Hmmm,” was her response again.
Hmmm? Hmmm? I’ll be damned if she was going to some Fourth of July barbeque with this Alan Wayne character. If she wanted to go to the barbeque I’d take her.
The topic was dropped at least for the moment.
“So where do you come from Mr. O’Neil?” her father asked turning the conversation back to me as our dinners were placed in front of us. I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad one but I was glad her mother was now occupied with a fresh drink.
“Roseville.”
“What do your parents do?” he asked.
“My mother has her own flower shop.”
“How quaint,” her mother chimed in but her look said she didn’t mean that as a good thing.
“And your father?” he asked. Pru squeezed my leg again.
“I don’t know. I never met my father.” I lied, well, not a complete lie. I was not about to tell these horrible people that my father was Russell Kole. I’m sure they’d just love that.
“How unfortunate,” her father said then looked over at Pru and raised an eyebrow, like she had to be joking.
“So which would you prefer Harvard or Stanford?” her father asked turning the conversation again. He changed the topic so frequently it made my head spin. At least my faults were no longer the topic of conversation.
Throughout the dinner she remained perfectly polite and calm despite her parents. The only sign of any tension in her body was the constant death grip on my leg. By the time we were done I was sure I was going to have a hand size bruise on my thigh.
And the conversation went on and on. They told her she was going to med school, or would tell her who she should be dating, or talk about people I didn’t know. Her parents told her of events over the summer and she continued to make non-committal noises. I noticed she never agreed to their plans for her but she didn’t reject them either. She just hmmmed. They seemed satisfied with that and would move on. I was starting to hate that noise.
I wanted her to tell them she wasn’t going to date Alan Wayne or go to medical school, to stand up for herself, but she didn’t. Not once did they show any real interest in her life with the exception of telling her what to do with it.
All the while her parents found ways to remind me that I wasn’t worthy of her. I didn’t make enough money. How did I ever plan to get a real job with all those tattoos and piercings? How long did a tattoo artist’s career actually last? What was I planning to do after with my lack of education? And it went on and on. It was no wonder that Pru dreaded these dinners. Why she was on the edge of a panic attack when we came in and had looked like a scared puppy ready to bolt.
Now I felt like a lion in a cage, trapped but dying to be free. Internally I was pacing. I tugged on my already loose collar more than once and I swear I ran my fingers though my hair every time someone opened their mouth.
She had grown up with these horrible people. She had to deal with this for years and I was barely making it through one dinner. It was amazing Pru turned out half as wonderful as she did. These people could beat a person down. Shoot, I felt like bloody pulp.
I hated that she had to deal with them but I saw the points they were trying to make for the both of us. I was not good enough for her. She spoke multiple languages, was selfless, and caring, soon to be a college grad. Pru was used to a life of luxury. She was raised with everything that she had ever wanted, every privilege possible. She had never actually gone without anything. And here I was bastard son of a rock star and a struggling tattoo artist/shop owner. How was I ever going to compete with it?
Prudence
Dinner had been awful. Worse than I had expected it to be. My parents were in full form, doing what they did best: steam rolling over everyone else.
In a matter of two hours they had criticized everything about Lincoln: his family, his career, profession, clothing, piercings, tattoos, finances, car. It just never seemed to end. I was impressed that he hadn’t jumped across the table and attacked them or just stormed out. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. I’d probably follow him out.
Lincoln was miserable so was I. I could see them wearing on him. I hoped he didn’t let them get to him. I thought I warned him that this was going to be bad but apparently not as much as I should have.
I considered not bringing him, saving him this torture, but I didn’t want him to think I was ashamed of him. I wasn’t. I also wanted my parents to see how wonderful he was, how he made me happy. Maybe they’d come to accept him if they saw I loved him, that he made me happy. At least I hoped they would but they weren’t even giving him a chance.
The entire dinner had been a disaster, a mistake.
They’d invited him and I passed the invitation on hoping that they’d play nice, that they actually wanted to get to know the man in my life. Oh I was so wrong.
I had met his mother a few weeks ago and she had been nothing but warm and welcoming to me and my parents were anything but. They were the exact opposite.
When they weren’t belittling Lincoln, and I could see that it was taking its toll on him, they were telling me what do. Making all kinds of plans for me, none of which they asked me about or included Lincoln. I would go onto med school, become a doctor, move back home, date Alan Wayne, and so on and so on.
I hated conflict, always have. I did what I always did to avoid any sort of confrontation with them. I learned young that it was just easier to pretend to go along with it than actually fight them because I never won. I didn’t agree or disagree with them and I just acknowledged that they had spoken. I would say something was nice or interesting. When they told me I was moving home I just smiled and said, “I hadn’t thought of that.” It was the truth. I ha
dn’t but it wasn’t happening.
I wasn’t committing to anything either way even though I knew that there was no chance I was going to be moving home. I’d live on the streets first but they seemed happy with my response and they’d never bring it up again. It wasn’t like they actually ever spoke to me. I mean I had managed to finish college with a teaching degree and they had no idea.
I just hoped that when this dinner ended Lincoln and I were able to walk away from this like it never happened and my parents would stay as far away from my life as possible.
Chapter 13
Prudence
The ride home was silent. Lincoln offered to drive so I let him. He was stiff and cold. Dinner with my heartless parents could do that to a person. It always left me feeling lacking and I could see it had done the same to him. I never should have brought him.
I knew that this evening had been hard on him. I was just hoping that it wasn’t going to cost me him. He told me he loved me for the first time only hours ago and now I was worried that my parents had destroyed us. They had a way of doing that. They found every possible way to point out that Lincoln wasn’t good enough for me although they never directly said it. I just hoped he knew what they wanted in my life and what I wanted out of life were two very different things. He knew that right? Lincoln knew me. He loved me.
We finally got to his house and he pulled right into the driveway. The drive had been the longest we had gone without joking or talking ever. He didn’t even try to touch me and that bothered me. He just kept taking deep breaths and running his fingers through his hair. That made me nervous.
I didn’t know whether he wanted me to come in or not. I had planned to stay the night but now I wondered if I was even welcome. Should I leave? Should I just follow him in?
He got out and so did I. I had to at least move to the driver’s seat but as soon as I shut the door he clicked the lock button on my keys to the car and grabbed my hand and headed for the door. That answered that question.