by ME Carter
“No way!”
“It’s obvious. They work in the same office and have been flirting for a while but have never hooked up. They’re about to. They’re going to Detroit for a business trip and are having an early breakfast with a colleague, who is picking them up from the airport, which is why they’re dressed up. Notice her smiles? She’s nervous. She’s never done anything like this before, and she’s hopeful about where it might lead.”
The more I watch, the more I realize he’s probably right. “How do you know this?”
“I had a buddy in college whose dad owned a company. We visited him in the office a few times, and his secretary looked at him that same way.”
“Did they ever get together? I hold up a hand. “Do I want to know?”
“He got caught having an affair with her and ended up divorced. But they never officially got together.”
“That kind of sucks for everyone.”
“United Airlines, Flight 298, with service to Detroit, will now begin boarding elite members and first class only. Again, if you are an elite member or have a first-class ticket, United Airlines, Flight 298 is now boarding.”
“That’s us, baby.” Rowen picks up his bag and my backpack off the floor. “Let’s go.”
“You got us first-class seats? Rowen, that’s so expensive.”
“It wasn’t me, babe. It was my Da. He knew we’d need a little more room and a lot of privacy.”
I put my backpack on and take Rowen’s hand when he offers. I was surprised his parents let us come to visit. I’m stunned his dad would buy us plane tickets on short notice. If my son was bringing someone like me home under these circumstances, I’m not sure I’d be so nice about it.
We settle into our seats, me next to the window. Rowen says it’s so he can have more legroom, but I know he’s also protecting me from having to interact with anyone.
I’m sitting in the most comfortable airplane seats ever. They’re wide and fluffy, and they lay back so much farther than economy seats, where you’re lucky if you can recline an inch.
I should be sleeping during the flight, but once again, I can’t. I stare out the window, lost in my thoughts. Every once in a while, we fly through a cloud, but for the most part, I’m watching the lights below.
Rowen reaches over and clasps my hand. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asks with a groggy whisper.
“Why aren’t you?”
“I was, but I can’t get comfortable without you lying next to me.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my palm. “I’ve gotten too used to sleeping with you.”
A weak smile crosses my face. He’s so good to me. Too good for me. It makes me nervous. “I’m scared to meet your parents.”
“How come?”
“You’re supposed to meet your boyfriend’s parents when you’re on your best behavior. Good impressions and all that crap. I am literally going to make the worst first impression ever.”
He chuckles. “You don’t give my parents enough credit. They’ve been a part of this world, too, ya know.”
“That doesn’t mean they want their son to run with people from the wrong side of it.” I turn back to the window.
“Hey,” he says, tugging on my arm. “Look at me.” He tugs again. I turn slowly and meet his gaze. “You know how I know they aren’t going to judge you? Because my Da was no saint. Based on the stories they told me recently, he was more like that fucker Shivel than he was like me.”
I never would have guessed his father used to hang out with women like me.
“But when he met my Mam, that all changed. Like when you met me, it changed, right? They’ve been right where we are, so they have no room to judge, and they know it. And if they do, we’ll head to a hotel and spend the next four days in bed, eating room service and watching reality television, because they won’t deserve to enjoy our company if that’s the case. We are in this together. I need you to believe that.”
I absolutely believe he is in this with me, that he won’t let me fall. What’s harder to believe is that everyone else will do the same.
Daniel and Quincy surprised me. I expected them to support Rowen. I didn’t expect the amount of caring they gave me.
“Okay,” I finally whisper.
“You believe me?”
“I believe you.”
I turn to my window, still clasping his hand.
I only hope his parents don’t shatter his belief in them.
She fidgets the entire cab ride to the house. I want to tell her to stop being nervous, that my parents are great. But she doesn’t trust anyone except me, and trusting me is miraculous enough at this point.
Seeing her like this has been the worst thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve never seen her go out in public without getting dressed up until now. For the average person, hair in one of those messy bun things, no makeup, and wearing one of my oversized college hoodies with leggings would be normal. For Tiffany, it’s not. She looks amazingly beautiful to me, no matter what, but she looks tired and defeated.
“Relax, baby. It’s gonna be fine.”
It was Mam’s idea to hide out at home. It was Da who bought us the tickets. They fully support her because I do. Nothing I can say will convince her of this, though. She has to learn it for herself.
The cab pulls up in front of the yellow brick house with grey shutters my parents call home. I pay the fare, and we climb out into the cold.
“It’s chilly here,” she says, tightening the hood around her.
“Unlike Houston, Detroit actually gets seasons.” I grab our bags, and she follows me up the front steps. “This here is called winter.”
“I’d make jokes about the four seasons in Houston, but I’m too nervous.” She’s trying to keep her breathing under control when we make it to the front stoop.
The door swings open before I can knock, revealing my parents. They glance at me and then immediately look over at Tiffany, who averts her eyes.
“Mam, Da, this is Tiffany.”
My mother takes Tiffany in her arms. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers into her hair. “I know you must be exhausted from such an early flight.” She ushers us inside and into the kitchen, where she has coffee waiting. “Would anyone like breakfast? I made eggs and bacon.”
“Thank you, darling, that would be wonderful.” Da pours four cups of coffee and passes them out. “I take it you didn’t have any trouble with the flight?”
“Besides being a red-eye,” I say, pouring cream into my mug and passing the sugar to Tiffany, “it was okay. The seats were great.”
“Yes, thank you for that, Mr. Flanigan,” Tiffany says.
He waves his hand at her. “It’s Ryan to you.” She smiles and sips her coffee.
“Thank you for getting us here. I’m really glad to be out of town for a few days.”
“Well of course. Ye both need to get away from the shit storm.” Tiffany grimaces. I squeeze the back of her neck and kiss her forehead so she feels my support in a physical way. My parents are both looking at me, watching our interaction. I blush from being caught. Even with all the open communication we have, they’ve never seen such a public display of my feelings for anyone before. I don’t mind, but it’s uncharted territory.
“Speaking of the shit storm,” Da says, bringing us back to the topic none of us wants to discuss. “Are you taking any legal action?”
“We’ve looked into it, and there’s nothing we can do that won’t keep dredging it all up. We’d rather wait it out than keep bringing it to the forefront of people’s minds.”
“Good. What about PR? Are ye making a statement?”
I look at Tiffany and squeeze her neck again. “Tiffany made hers the day the story broke, and the bosses think I need to not say anything. Almost to distance myself from it.”
Da nods. “So the team isn’t saying anything?”
“Officially? No.” Mam brings over a big plate of bacon and eggs with tomato slices on the side. Da and
I fill our plates. When I try to hand one to Tiffany, she shakes her head. I’ll have to see if my Mam can get her to eat while we’re here. “But almost all the players have been prepped to say ‘no comment’.”
“Well then it sounds like ye’ve got nothing to do while yer here except lay low and get some rest.”
We spend the next several minutes eating and catching up on Mam’s latest food findings. She promises Tiffany several recipes before we’re done, and Tiffany excuses herself to the bathroom.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I turn to them. “Guys, I know you’re old school and you’d normally have us sleep in separate bedrooms, but I’m asking you to make an exception this time.”
“Okay,” Mam says, taking another bite of her bacon. “Care to explain your reasoning?”
“She’s not doing well, Mam,” I explain quietly so Tiffany won’t overhear. “She’s nervous and fidgety and hides under the covers. I mean literally hides. She stares at the wall all day and when she does sleep, she has terribly traumatic nightmares. The only time she calms down is when I’m lying next to her. Like I can protect her or something. I need her to leave here feeling rested and strong. You know I would never disrespect you by crossing any physical boundaries in your house, but I’m asking you to trust me this time. I need to be with her as much as possible so I can take care of her. That’s why we’re here. So she can build up her physical and emotional strength.”
Da lets out a deep belly laugh. “Yer mam is right. Yer gettin’ married.”
I throw a napkin at him as he laughs.
“What did I miss?” Tiffany asks, walking back into the room.
“Nothing. My da thinks he’s a funny guy.” I push back my chair and stand. “It’s only five thirty our time. Let’s take a nap.”
We trudge up the stairs, and I take her to the guest room, because my old room still has a single bed in it and this one has a queen.
“Your parents are okay with us sharing a room?” she asks.
“This time, yes. Normally my mam would object, because she wants to make sure we don’t ‘have any temptations we can’t control’.” I make the quotation marks, and Tiffany giggles. “But they’re making an exception under the circumstances. Come here.”
She steps over to me as I sit on the bed. I put her hands on my shoulders to steady herself while I undo her shoes and take them off. Her socks and pants go next. Finally, I rid her of the sweatshirt so she’s in one of my T-shirts.
“There. That’ll be more comfortable to sleep in.” I quickly throw my clothes on the floor, and we climb into bed.
“Why are they making an exception?” she asks, settling in next to me.
“Because they know how badly you need sleep. A little temptation is a small price to pay to help you relax enough to rest.” I kiss her hair and am almost immediately out.
“Rowen,” Da says a few seconds later. “Get up.”
I look over my shoulder at him, eyes barely open. “What?”
“Get up, mac. Ye’ve been asleep long enough. It’s time for a run.”
I rub my eyes. “Da, I’ve been asleep two minutes.”
“It’s eight o’clock. Ye’ve been asleep for well over an hour. Yer getting lazy.” He turns and walks out, leaving the door wide open. Probably because he’s coming back to get me if I don’t hurry up.
I lay my head back down and concentrate on opening my eyes. It takes a minute, but I’m finally coherent enough to move. I pull my arm from underneath Tiffany and scoot out of the bed, trying not to wake her now that she’s finally sleeping peacefully. I dress in athletic pants, the hoodie Tiffany was wearing when we got here, my shoes, and gloves. It’s cold out, and I don’t want to get frostbite on my fingers.
“How far are we doing, Da?” I ask as I go downstairs, pulling my beanie on before pulling the hood over it.
“Same route as before. Five miles.”
I groan. “You realize I’ve had maybe two hours of sleep since yesterday.”
“Good to know you’re well rested.” He slaps me on the back. “Come on. We want to be back before yer girl wakes up.”
We take extra time to stretch on the back deck. As tired as I am, I know part of why my dad wants to go running is so we’ll have some time to talk.
“Did she fall asleep okay?” he asks as he helps with my stretches.
“I think so. She didn’t move at all when you woke me up. She hasn’t done that in two days.”
“She’s beautiful. I can see why you like her.”
“I don’t like her, Da. I love her. I would love her if she had the face of a goat.”
He smirks. “She seems nice, but nervous to be here.”
“Do you blame her? She knows her reputation precedes her.”
We begin our loop around the neighborhood. I expect it to be a quiet run, but he’s chattier than normal. “You know yer mam had real problems when we first got married.”
I don’t say anything, just listen.
“The groupies, the whores—they were upset I didn’t want to party with them anymore. I was a piece of meat to them, a toy, and they didn’t like their toy being taken away. She had a rough go of it for a while.”
“Did she get crucified by the media, though?”
“Back then, there weren’t cellphones and internet, so there was nothing of this magnitude. But some pretty ugly things were said on the celebrity pages of the newspaper. It hurt her for a time. I was afraid she was going to leave me because I wasn’t worth it.”
“Why would she leave you, Da? She loves you.”
“The same way ye love Tiffany and aren’t planning on leaving her, right?”
I shake my head adamantly. “No way. This isn’t her fault. She’s not that girl anymore.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. As yer father, I want you to come out fighting and take out the fuckers that crossed such a terrible line.”
“But?”
“As a man who’s spent a lot of years in the public eye, yer wise to let it blow over. Positive press is still press. The goal here is no press.”
“That’s the plan. Lay low, lick our wounds, and wait for the next sensational story to make this old news.”
“All those years of teaching you to lay low is finally paying off.” He claps me on the back. “And Rowen, I like her.”
“You do?” I knew he would, but hearing him say it out loud fills me with pride.
“I see a lot of meself in her.”
I snicker. “I’m not sure that’s the best compliment you can give her.”
“Smart arse. Just for that, I’ll race you to the mile marker.”
“Shit,” I grumble as he takes off at a dead sprint, with me struggling to catch up.
I stretch my arms over my head and realize I’ve been asleep. Really asleep. No nightmares, no interruptions. I feel a lot better.
The other side of the bed is empty. I wonder how long I’ve been out.
I rifle around in my bag until I find a light jacket and pull my pants back on. Padding down the stairs to the kitchen, I find Rowen’s mother cooking again.
“Good morning,” Denise says brightly as she drains potatoes in the sink. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, I really did. How long was I out?”
“I’d say about four hours.”
“Really? I haven’t slept that well in days.”
“That means you feel safe here.”
She sets the pot on the stove and mashes the potatoes. There’s a sauce simmering, and I smell some sort of meat cooking, as well.
“Can I help you with anything? It looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
“I’m doing just fine, but thank you. Why don’t you have a seat? Do you want something to drink?”
“I could use some water, but I’ll get it. In the fridge?”
She nods. “You have your choice of filtered or bottled. We might have a few sodas, but we don’t keep them in the house often.”
“What are
you making, anyway? It smells great.” I take a cup out of the cabinet and fill it with the water filter. No use wasting a perfectly good bottle of water when I know they’re more portable for the athletes in the house.
“Bangers and mash. It’s Rowen’s favorite. If I don’t make it when he visits, both men whine for days. It’s best to make it the first day to save myself the trouble.”
I round the island and take a seat on one of the bar stools. “Where is Rowen?”
“They left a couple hours ago to run, but I assume they’re going through drills now. We probably won’t see them until lunch.”
My stomach drops. Denise is nice, but I’d feel more comfortable if he was here with me and I wasn’t alone with her.
“I’m surprised they’ll be gone so long, with it being so cold out.”
“What can I say? This has been a soccer family for a long time. There’s not much that bothers us anymore.” She looks up at me. “Not even some bad press.”
I clear my throat and stare at my glass, not quite sure where else to look.
“Tiffany.” I glance up. “You don’t need to feel uncomfortable here or think you’re being judged. Because you’re not.”
“I don’t want you to think any of that happened after we started dating. All of it, I mean… ohgod….” How do you say to your boyfriend’s mom “Don’t worry. I haven’t had a sex train since we started dating”? No matter how you phrase it, it’s never going to sound right.
She puts down the potato masher and wipes her hands on a blue towel. “You have a lot of the same spunk Ryan has. He has this zest for life and is always the center of the party.” She has almost a starry-eyed look when she talks about it. “It’s very unlike me. Very unlike Rowen.”
I bite my lip, unsure where she’s going with this.
“When Ryan first told me the stories of some of the things he had done before we met, I was astonished, to say the least.” She throws the towel on the counter and leans forward on her elbows. “It took me a while to understand, because I’m so much more reserved. Like Rowen. I’m content to be a wallflower and watch people. Because of all that watching, I finally realized the things he did were the result of his wonderfully outgoing personality. Situations most people will never be in. He was doing what came naturally, exploring and enjoying life.”