Sweet Rome

by Tillie Cole

  Fidgeting in my seat, I looked around the room, just trying to find some sense of reason for why the hell I was here. My father shifted and I focused all my attention back on him, seeing him regard me warily and grasp his hands together.

  Rubbing my head, I asked quietly, “Daddy, what’s all this about?”

  “I…” He took a breath and went on. “I…” Sighing in frustration, he laid his palms flat on the tabletop. “Your momma told me what happened a couple of weeks ago, and it really made me think about things.”

  My heart began to pound in my chest. His tone, his entire demeanor, was off and making me nervous.

  “I’m getting older, and your silence toward me of late has given me time to put things in perspective, about how I’ve been toward you and how it’s understandable you’d feel railroaded into continuing the family business.”

  Gripping the arms of the chair, the heat of anger beginning to spread into my muscles, I said, “This is a joke, right? Another fucked-up ploy to get me to do your bidding?”

  My daddy sat back, seeming affronted. I couldn’t tell if his reaction was genuine or fake. “No, Rome, it was meant to be an olive branch.”

  Olive branch? I felt like overturning the desk and screaming, Olive branch? You’ve belittled me all of my life, beaten me. Momma ignored me, never truly accepted me. Why now? Why change now when all you’ve done for the last few months is hound me to marry Shelly? But I didn’t. I just stared at him, completely shocked, unable to move.

  That was until he said, “Your momma told me about your girlfriend, the British girl you’ve been seeing.” And the overwhelming need to protect Molly took root, my muscles remembering how to function.

  Abruptly leaning forward, I warned, “You leave her the hell out of anything going on between us. She doesn’t need to be involved in our shit.”

  Graying brown eyebrows rose, and he put his hands up in surrender. “Relax, it’s not want you think.”

  “What’s not?” I hissed, suspicion creeping its way into my brain.

  “Me and your momma have been talking, and we want to meet her, see what all the fuss is about. Try to be more… accommodating to you.”

  I was certain I’d entered the fucking Twilight Zone. My folks wanted to meet Mol… For me?

  “Bullshit,” I answered in response, convinced this was just a really elaborate scam.

  “It’s not—”

  “Why would momma want to meet her? She told me she’d ruin us, destroy Mol. Why now, why show an interest now?” I interrupted.

  Clearing his throat, my daddy agreed. “I admit, your momma took some convincing, but I want to meet her. Bring her to the house tomorrow for dinner.”

  Stony resolve set in my stomach. “Hell no.”

  Daddy’s facial muscles began to twitch. I knew he was about blow. I sat there waiting… but his anger never came. He was massively fucking with my mind.

  “Look, Rome, I understand why you don’t want to dine here with us. I’m beginning to see we’ve not done right by you. And I get why bringing your lady friend may be causing you some turmoil, but I’m reaching out… You’re my only son, my only child.”

  “I… I…” I stuttered, not knowing what to say.

  Daddy caught my confusion and continued. “I’ve been too caught up in business, in making Prince Oil the best it can be, but in doing that I’ve neglected you. I haven’t taken the time to get to know you, to really understand who you are. I want that to change, starting with a chance to meet your girlfriend. Your first official girlfriend, if I’m not mistaken?” He waited for my answer, so I gave a curt nod.

  An unfamiliar warmth smothered my chest and I didn’t know how to deal. Conflicted emotions duelled in my mind. I’d wanted for so long for my daddy to want me. He called me his son… with affection. Half of me could only think about how amazing that felt, but the other half screamed at me not to believe him. Granted he’d never tried this tactic before—being normal, fatherly—but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d been lured into the fire by their promises, only to be burned when I took a chance and leapt into the furnace.

  Sighing loudly, my daddy said, “Go home, ask your girl, and let me know as soon as possible, but don’t make me wait too long. If you want to build bridges, you need to agree to this as a first step. You need to meet me halfway, but I won’t wait forever.”

  “Momma will treat her badly. I won’t have that,” I remarked, my voice slightly calmer now, my mind actually considering what he’d offered.

  “I’ll have words. She won’t say a thing,” he assured. I stayed silent, unable to look anywhere but, unseeing, at my hands on my lap.

  “Rome. I know you don’t have a close relationship with your momma. She’s never been able to get over what I did. But you’re mine, blood of my blood, and I got a lot of penance to serve for the way I’ve done you wrong.” Sitting back in his chair, he concluded. “I’m a physical and intolerant man, and all this marriage talk of late has pushed me to the brink. Let’s start afresh… That is if you want to be part of our lives.”

  Abruptly standing from my seat, unaware of how the fuck to digest all this crap coming my way, I said, “I’ll speak to Mol and let you know.”

  I didn’t wait for his reply, but halfway to the door, I looked back and asked, “What about Shel and Mr. Blair? What you going to say to them?”

  A smile spread on his lips, one that I couldn’t read. Doubt flooded my mind once more. “I’ll handle them. Don’t worry,” he dismissed, before saying, “Again, don’t keep me waiting too long.”

  Without another word, I walked to the front entrance, catching sight of my momma in the parlor, her usual drink in hand, staring out the large windows… and all before two in the afternoon. I didn’t even bother to stop and say hello. My daddy may have been trying to save what scraps were left of our relationship, but there was no love lost on Momma’s part.

  I drove furiously down the freeway, trying to decipher whether or not this was a trick. I never wanted Molly tied up in the constant war between my folks and me, but what if this was genuine? All I’d wanted was for my folks to want me, and if this was my only chance, should I take it? It was probably all a load of crap, wasn’t it? A convincing—and disturbing—ruse for some other plan… Argh, FUCK! I just didn’t know! Didn’t know if I should risk it.

  My daddy was playing with my emotions. He’d always known I strived for his approval; I just wasn’t sure if he really wanted to start again or if he was being truly fucked up and using those emotions against me. My mind was in turmoil and there was only one person to calm me down, to settle me. I needed to see my girl.

  21

  I took one last look at myself in the mirror: black slacks and a white shirt. I looked like a total dick. I reached for my wallet and keys and headed out my bedroom door.

  Austin was in the TV room, and I caught his eye as I passed. “You outta here?” he shouted out to me.

  Standing in the doorway, my arms holding too tight to the wooden frame, I sighed, “Yeah.” Looking back at my best friend, I asked, “Hell, man, am I doing the right thing?”

  Carillo sat forward and shrugged. “I told you last night, my instinct would be to tell you not to go, but folks can change, Rome. I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe your daddy has had some divine epiphany or some shit, you know, seen the light?” The fucker just laughed at that. I couldn’t help but smile along with him, despite my nervous mood. “One thing’s for certain. You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, his face suddenly serious.

  Nodding, I slapped the doorframe twice. “I’m out.”

  “Good luck, man.”

  Getting into my truck, I tried to stay calm. Something in my gut told me this was all wrong, but hell, Mol had been so damn insistent. I knew she wanted me to fix the problems with my folks. She didn’t have family and didn’t want that same situation for me. But I hadn’t told her much about my past, the relationship I had with my parents. She knew they sometimes hit me—mo
stly in my past—belittled me, forced me to put my duty above my dreams, but she didn’t know the extent of abuse I’d suffered at their hands, didn’t know why I’d been treated with such cruelty. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I hadn’t ever told anyone… I was ashamed.

  Pulling in front of her sorority house, I almost just called the whole thing off. I’d nearly done that several times, but Mol’s words from yesterday still played on my mind.

  * * *

  As soon as I left my folks’ place, I drove straight to Mol’s sorority house and climbed up to the balcony where she sat surrounded by her laptop and all her books.

  “Still working hard I see,” I said as I finished kissing my girl hello.

  “Yeah. Professor Ross was told this morning that we have a timeslot of when we need to present the paper in Oxford—we go in a few months.” Her excited smile was huge.

  Frowning, I sat forward on the chair I’d occupied. “You’re going to England in a few months? Since when?”

  “Since always…” Mol went to explain that she needed to go do the presentation at Oxford University to help her secure a PhD program, but I really didn’t want her to go. She promised to be back for the championship games though, so I’d just have to suck it up when the time came. It was just one more bastard thing to mess up my day.

  My girl moved toward me, seeing my drop in mood, and sat on my lap.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Sighing, I answered, “One guess.”

  “Parents?”

  “Bingo.”

  “What now?” I caught the worry in her voice.

  “They want to meet you. They’ve invited us to dinner tomorrow night. They’re notching up their tactics.”

  She actually reared back in shock. “Really? I never thought they’d want to meet me… ever.”

  “Me either.” Her shock waned at that comment and hurt took its place.

  Pulling her closer, I said, “Hey, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but they’re not happy about us, Mol. They’ve made no secret about that.”

  “I know. It just sucks.”

  “I’m telling them no,” I said, finally making up my mind. Mol was far too important to me to put in jeopardy.

  Sitting up, determination on her face, she said, “No. Screw it, let’s go. Show them how good we are together. By seeing us, it might help them understand.”

  “They won’t understand and I won’t have them attack you. I’ve coped with it for years; I’m not watching you take the same treatment. You’ve seen my daddy in action. He doesn’t tolerate disobedience. My momma’s vindictive and cruel. Why do you want to officially meet people like that?”

  Smiling at me, her inner strength shining through, she pressed, “I want to bridge the gap for your sake.”

  * * *

  And after much more persuasion and a couple of hours buried deep in her soft depths, we’d accepted the invitation and right now, in this truck, all I could think was that I’d completely fucked up.

  I hadn’t realized how long I’d been sat in my truck, just staring out of the window, when the sorority house’s main door opened and out walked Molly, immediately stealing my damn breath.

  Opening the truck door, I got out and when she was a few steps away, reached out and pulled her into my arms. “Baby…” I croaked, my anxiety showing in my voice.

  Wrapping her arms around my waist, she gripped onto me tight. “Hey, Rome. You okay?”

  Pulling back, I pressed my lips to hers and nodded, “Yeah, no, maybe. I don’t know…”

  Scrunching up her nose playfully, she tilted her head, asking, “Mm? You look kind of uncomfortable. Then again, I’ve never seen you in anything other than a T-shirt, jeans, and those damn cowboy boots you never take off, unless it’s to put on your cleats. Is it the fact you’re all suited and booted in your Sunday best that has you scowling and sitting outside my sorority like a creepy stalker?”

  Unable to hold in a laugh, I put my arm around her shoulders and led her to the truck. “Get in, sexy, before I shut that mouth of yours for you.” Lifting her into the high cabin, I couldn’t resist skirting my hand up her bare leg and running my fingers along her panty-covered folds. Yelping at the touch, she scowled at me as she belted up.

  God, I loved this girl so damn much. As I stared at her, I felt the familiar sense of dread that had been plaguing me since I’d accepted this bastard invitation. I couldn’t lose her. I was non-negotiable on that, and no matter what my folks were up to, they would have to learn that too.

  Jumping into the driver’s seat and pulling out onto the road, I looked over at Mol, who was fiddling with radio, head nodding along to Blake Shelton telling the world they could kiss his country ass, singing every line, her out-of-place English accent sounding completely wrong against his southern Oklahoma drawl. Snorting through my nose, I shook my head, earning a scowl from the wannabe Dolly Parton beside me.

  “What?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

  “Nothing. You just look all beautiful tonight and I’m having a real hard time focusing on the road.” It was true, maybe not what I was thinking right then, but she wouldn’t appreciate me ripping on her for her terrible singing.

  She ran her hands down her dress, no longer singing, and began worrying her lip. “It’s so not me. Ally dressed me up like a bloody Barbie doll in all this designer stuff to make me look appropriate for your fancy parents—I look like I’m trying too hard. They’ll see right through me.” She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I guess I’m just worried they’ll hate me.” Flicking her eyes up at me nervously, she added, “Well, hate me more than they already do.”

  That sentence alone just sliced through my heart. It was so friggin’ clear she didn’t want to go tonight, and it became more than apparent she was doing all this for me, sacrificing her pride for me.

  I’d never felt more like a selfish ass.

  For the next fifteen minutes, we didn’t speak.

  I couldn’t.

  Sensing my strange turn in mood, Mol scooted over to me, pressing in close, her leg hitching over mine. A wave of protectiveness took hold and I instructed, “I want you to listen to me, okay?” We needed to be prepared, make a plan in case this so-called “olive branch” was a huge load of crap.

  Sitting up, those golden-brown eyes looked at me intently.

  “They will probably pick on anything they can tonight, viciously. Whatever they say, don’t let it get to you. I’ll protect you. If you need to leave at any time, for whatever reason, we go—no ifs or buts. But promise me you won’t let them hurt you.”

  Swallowing hard, she whispered, “I promise.”

  Gripping her thigh, using the skin-on-skin contact to gain strength, I said, “Then why do I have a feeling I’m about to lose you?”

  Without missing a beat, my girl made me pull over, and no sooner than I had parked on the graveled hard shoulder, she straddled my lap, saying sternly, “You will not lose me.”

  I wanted to believe her so bad. But if this was all a setup, if my parents somehow got to her, she’d bail on me the first chance she got. Why would she stick around? Panic swelled at that thought.

  Looking her dead in the eyes, I tried to tell her how much I loved her, but the anxiety was making me lose all sense. “I can’t, Mol. You mean so much to me. Do you know that? Do you realize how I feel about you? How much I need you? Because I do. I know I don’t say much about my feelings, but… but… I… I…” I love you. I fucking love you… But the words wouldn’t come, stuck in my throat, along with intense fear.

  “Shh… you don’t need to do this. Romeo, you’ve given me a reason to be happy. I haven’t been okay for such a long time. You’ve brought me back to life. Do you know that?”

  Calming slightly, I confided, “They’re not good people, baby. I know you don’t believe me, but there is no way tonight is about anything other than asserting their power over me. It’s always about that.” I pressed my head into her neck. “They’re never goin
g to let me go, never going to just let me be happy with you. They’ll do something; they always do something to ruin my life.”

  That was true. Hindsight taught me that they had never, and I mean never, done anything but make my life hell. Tonight had to be bullshit; it had to be a setup. I quickly asked myself what was more important: repairing a fucked-up relationship with my folks or being good with my girl?

  There was no contest.

  “We’re going home. We’re not doing this shit,” I stated, moving to unseat Molly from my lap.

  “Yes, we are,” she insisted, refusal etched in her every muscle. I knew that was my girl putting her foot down and I knew she wouldn’t change her mind.

  Fuck.

  We were actually going to do this.

  22

  Two hours later…

  Red-hot rage. That’s all I felt, all that was driving me, keeping me going, not oxygen or blood, just boiling hot rage.

  My foot pressed on the gas and driving like a NASCAR pro, I headed for the cabin. I wouldn’t make it all the way home.

  Focusing on the road, I had to drown out the sound of Molly whimpering beside me, or I was going to go back. For the first time in my life, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself… I’d kill them, fucking kill them both for what they’d done. Everyone had a breaking point—I’d just found mine.

  The gravel crunched under the weight of the truck, the tires jerking from left to right as I wrestled the steering wheel for control down the old, bumpy driveway.

  “Romeo…” Molly whispered from beside me and I couldn’t look at her, I couldn’t see the expression that would accompany that desperate and grief-stricken voice.

  “Not now. God! Just… be quiet…” I snapped, wincing at what she must be thinking of me. A pained cry ripped from her throat and she curled her body away from me, the crystal clip from her hair falling to the floor.

  I was right to have been suspicious of the invite and my parents’ intentions in meeting my girl. The fucking vultures had circled us, lured us in, and then pounced. Hell, not pounced—ripped us apart until there was nothing left, shredding our dignity and stomping all over my girl’s already broken heart.