by E. L. Todd
I scratched the back of my neck. “I think we’re both wrong, and both right.”
She didn’t argue with me.
“I’m sorry I got so upset and told him off…I guess I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, probably not.”
“You’re mine and I…I want everyone to know that.”
She nodded slightly.
I stared at her, waiting for her to reciprocate.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “I did overreact.”
“That’s an understatement,” I mumbled.
She glared at me. “I’m apologizing over here!”
“Sorry.”
“I should trust you and I know that…I shouldn’t let who you used to be affect what we are now.”
“That means a lot to me,” I whispered.
“So…are we okay?”
“Yeah.” The weight was lifted from my chest and I finally felt better. The past few weeks had been agonizing. I was glad we finally resolved our problem. Trinity and I were going to be okay. “Want to go home?”
She smiled. “I like it when you call my house your home.”
“Because it is. You are my home.”
She moved into my side, her hand moving around my waist.
“Can I pay for your drink?” I whispered.
“Actually, they were paid for by some other guy.”
I growled. “Let’s go home so I don’t kill anyone.”
“Okay.” A smile was in her voice.
When we came back to the house, I felt a million times better. Everything was back to normal. We had our first fight and we survived it. It took a long time to get back to normal, but we managed it.
She rubbed her hands up and down my chest. “Bath time?”
“That sounds nice.” I missed doing those things with her.
“Okay.”
“But I want sex afterwards—a lot of it.”
“Demanding, aren’t we?” She had a twinkle in her eye.
“When it comes to you, I know what I want.”
Chapter Three
Roland
My mom hadn’t mentioned my stories, and I was too nervous to ask what she thought. What if she hated them? Thought they were poorly written and horrible? And she didn’t have the heart to tell me the truth? Perhaps she was brainstorming how to break it to me.
Or maybe she forgot altogether.
No, my mom wouldn’t forget.
Right?
Weeks passed and she never said anything. I knew Trinity’s accident had ripped a hole in everyone’s lives. Everything was put on hold until she could walk again. Everyone held their breath, waiting for her to walk on her own. Once she did, normalcy returned.
Now I was just waiting for a response.
Then she texted me. I’m going shopping with Skye on Saturday. Want to get breakfast on Sunday? She didn’t mention my stories.
Of course.
You’re welcome to come with us. I just assumed you wouldn’t want to.
You would be right.
I’ll see you then, dear.
K.
I guess I would ask for her thoughts when I saw her. My mom was good at breaking bad news, better than most. I knew she would put me down easily, not ruin all my motivation and self-esteem. My dad was more blunt, especially with me. With Skye, he was always sensitive and always babied her. With me, he told me exactly how it was. It was a good thing but also a bad thing.
***
“I got tickets to the Red Sox,” Conrad said. “You want to go?” He waved the tickets in my face.
“Hell yeah. When’s the game?”
“Sunday.”
Damn, I was seeing my mom. “I already have plans.”
“With whom?” He was the main person I hung out with.
“My mom.”
“You can see her whenever. This is important. Nothing is more important than sports.”
I tried not to laugh. “As true as that is…I can’t blow her off.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a momma’s boy.”
I shrugged. “She’s pretty cool.”
“There’s no such thing as a cool mom.”
“Well, when she caught me sneaking into the house with a girl when I was sixteen, she didn’t tattle on me to my dad. That was pretty cool.”
He nodded. “I guess that is cool. But baseball is cooler.”
“We can go another time.”
“I guess I’ll ask someone else.”
“Slade would go.”
“Yeah…”
I caught the tone. “Still feel weird around him?”
He shrugged. “No, it’s hard to explain. Even though I hate my sister I don’t want him to hurt her, you know?”
“It seems like he really cares about her. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“My dad sure had a change of heart,” Conrad said.
“If he accepts Slade, then I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”
“Probably.”
“Invite him. You should probably spend more time with him anyway,” I said. “He might be your brother-in-law someday.”
He laughed. “Good one.”
“You don’t think they’ll last?”
“No. I know they won’t.”
I hadn’t put much thought into it. But I knew Slade wasn’t the type that committed. “I think you should ask him anyway.”
“I’d ask Cayson but he’s probably too busy with Skye.”
“I’m not sure why…she’s so annoying.”
“Word.” He put the tickets back in his pocket. “I guess I’ll ask him.”
“Bring me a box of cracker jacks.”
“For twenty bucks.”
I laughed. “You’re such an ass.”
“So, what’s so important with your mom anyway?” he asked.
I’d rather not say. “Some personal stuff…”
He didn’t press me on it.
***
My mom and I got breakfast at a café. She ordered biscuits and gravy with a side of pancakes and eggs and scarfed it down like she didn’t just eat enough calories to last her all day.
I sipped my coffee, waiting for her to bring up my stories. “How was shopping?”
“Good. I got your father a new tie. I think he’ll like it.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s blue. Pretty typical.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad wears the same thing every day.”
She shrugged. “He buys the same suits so he doesn’t have to waste time deciding what to wear in the morning.”
“I’m surprised you don’t lay out his clothes for him.”
She chuckled. “Your father wouldn’t like that one bit.”
“He doesn’t like a lot of things.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of papers. “I know you’re anxious…”
Moment of truth.
She handed the papers to me.
When I looked down, I saw all the red lines and markings. Notes were scribbled on the sides in my mother’s small handwriting. That didn’t look good.
“Roland.”
I looked up at her, waiting for the blow.
“They are…” She shook her head, unable to find the right words. “Absolutely wonderful.”
What? Seriously? “Are you sure?”
She chuckled. “They are so rich in detail, and the stories are so original. They are phenomenal, Roland. I wished you had shown them to me sooner.”
“Really?” Was this really happening?
“You don’t belong in business, Ro. You’re a writer.”
“Mom…are you just pulling my leg right now?”
She patted my hand. “I would never tell you I hate your work or put you down, but I would never tell you I loved it if I didn’t. I wouldn't put false compliments in your head and let you walk into a trap. My words are true. The fact you’re my son only makes it that much more impressive. I’m so proud of yo
u, dear.”
My heart suddenly slowed and my pulse became weak. I looked down at the papers in front of me, seeing all the edits. “But…you marked almost every inch of it.”
She laughed. “I didn’t say it was perfect. It’s a mess and needs a lot of cleaning and changes. But that’s true of every story. But it has so much potential. If you make those changes, you got yourself an extraordinary piece of work.”
I held the papers in my hands and skimmed through the notes. My mom had a lot of sentences that were crossed out altogether. Every time I flipped the page, I saw more changes than before.
My mom smiled at me. “I didn’t realize you loved reading and writing so much.”
I shrugged. “Well, you know where I get it from.”
“And that makes me feel higher than a kite. I’ve tried writing but I’m horrible at it. I’m a great editor and know how to make a book really soar, but I can’t make my own ideas and put them on paper. So, in a way, you’re living out my dream.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“I think you should make these changes then send it back to me. I really want your father to read them.”
I put the stack of papers down. “You think he’d like them? Does he even know how to read?”
She let the joke slide. “Yes, he would be over the moon if he read those.”
Listening to my mom praise me made me feel better. I’d been feeling low ever since I crossed Cayson by sleeping with Jasmine. Even though everything was in the past, I still felt tainted with a horrible label. First that married chick and then Jasmine…my score sheet didn’t look good. “Thanks for reading them.”
“It was a delight, Ro. Truly.”
I moved the file off to the side.
“So?”
“Huh?” What was I missing?
“Now what?” she asked.
“Uh…you want to catch a movie?”
She laughed. “No, about your stories.”
“Um…I guess I’ll make the changes like you asked.”
“Are you going to submit them to a publishing house?” she asked.
Whoa…we’re getting ahead of ourselves. “I don’t know…”
“What do you have to lose?” she asked. “You never know until you try.”
This was happening too fast. I hadn’t even entertained the idea of being a published writer. “I’m good, but…I’m not that good.”
“Ro, you are that good. I wouldn’t push you to put yourself out there unless I believed in you.”
That made me feel warm.
“You obviously can’t work for your father. That’s out of the question.”
It was? “Oh?”
“You’re meant to be a writer. Having you be a CEO would be a waste of time and potential. Besides, Skye seems to be built for it. She’s so similar to her father that it’s frightening.”
“She is annoying.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said with a laugh. “You need to pursue this, Roland. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
I wasn’t sure where to even begin.
“Have you ever wanted to be a journalist?” she asked. “A lot of aspiring writers do that to get by until their books take off.”
“Yeah, that would be awesome,” I blurted. “Writing for the New York Times or Rolling Stones would be ridiculous.”
“Then apply.”
“With what skills?” I asked. “I don’t even have a degree in English.”
“You’re so talented you don’t need it…”
My mom hadn’t praised me like this since I got the acceptance letter from Harvard. “No one is going to hire me.”
“You’re forgetting who your father is…” She gave me a knowing look while she sipped her coffee.
Having a rich and influential father always played in my favor, but this time I didn’t want to rely on that. If this was something I really wanted, I had to work for it. When I thought about the hundreds of other people who applied for those positions every day, it didn’t seem fair to cut in line. “I don’t want his help.”
“Really?” She set her coffee down, surprise in her eyes. “You always drop your last name if you can get anything out of it…particularly women.”
I shook my head. “Not this time. I’ll figure it out on my own.”
“Okay.” She didn’t press me on it. “Where will you start?”
“Not sure…”
“Are you going to finish your degree?”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked. “I assumed you would want me to.”
My mother shrugged. “It’s up to you, Ro. You have another year after this one…it seems like a waste of time if you aren’t going to use it.”
“But then I won’t have a degree at all. Who would hire me?”
“People care more about experience and ability. If you write this well, they aren’t going to care. You just need to find a way to show them.”
That sounded simple in theory but I knew it wouldn’t be.
***
I thought about what my mom said for days. Was I a good writer? It sounded too good to be true. The idea of writing stories and books other people wanted to read was terrifying, but in a good way. When I thought about what I would do with my life, I realized nothing interested me, not in the way writing did. Running my father’s company sounded innately boring. And working with my sister every day sounded like torture.
Maybe I should pursue this. But how would my dad feel? I doubt he would approve of me dropping out of college. Me attending was always an expectation for him. And he would waste a lot of money if I never got my diploma. But my mom seemed to be okay with it, and she could convince my dad to do pretty much anything. So, having her on my side was helpful.
After thinking and deliberating for days, I decided to take a trip home and speak to my father. I wasn’t sure how the conversation would go, but perhaps if I let him read my work first, it would help.
***
I arrived at the house past five and walked inside with my bag over my shoulder.
“Ro, is that you?” Mom called from the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
She came out a moment later, wearing a pink apron. “I’m so happy to see you.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. “I can take your bag for you.”
I kept it out of her reach. “I can do it.”
“Okay.” She stepped back. “So, nervous?”
“A little.”
She rubbed my arm. “You’ll be fine, dear.”
“Is he home?” He would normally be sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee while he watched my mom cook.
“No, he’ll be late today,” she said with a sigh. “Something came up at the office.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“I’m sure it’s fine. Your father hardly ever stays late because he’s a slacker so I’m sure it’s just biting him in the ass.” She chuckled then headed to the kitchen. “Want anything?”
“A beer.”
“You just walked in the door,” she said with a laugh.
I left my bag by the door then took a seat at the table. “I like beer.”
She grabbed one from the fridge then handed it to me. “Just like your father.”
I sipped it while my mom cooked. The smell of the oven indicated we were having lasagna for dinner. Garlic bread came into my nose and I realized how hungry I was.
An hour later, my dad walked inside with his bag over one shoulder. His suit was wrinkle free like usual, and his Rolex was shiny like a new car.
“Hey, baby.” He kissed my mom the moment he walked inside. “Sorry I’m late.”
I thought it was hilarious how much of a wimp he was with my mom. He reported to her like she was a drill sergeant and tried to make sure he did everything right so he wouldn’t be punished.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Sometimes things happen.”
He sniffed the air. “Something smells good.”
“That’s just me,” she said playfully.
He smirked then pulled her closer to him, giving her a kiss that was inappropriate for an audience.
“Ah-hem.” I cleared my voice.
My dad ended the embrace then stared at me with a grin. “Sorry, Ro. Didn’t see you there.”
“Scan the room next time.”
He placed his bag on the counter then came to me. His hand went to my shoulder. “What a nice surprise.”
I stood up and embraced him. “Everything okay at the office?”
He returned the hug. “Nothing to worry about.” He dropped his touch and stepped away.
If there was something wrong at the office, I knew he would never tell us. “Let me know if you need help.”
He laughed. “What are you going to do? Fetch coffee?”
“Hey, I can do reports and assessments. I’m not totally useless.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He headed out of the kitchen. “I’ll shower then join you for dinner.”
“Okay, dear,” my mom said.
My dad walked to her then stared at her apron. “Where’s the one with the fish on it?”
I had no idea what they were talking about.
“It’s in the wash,” she said with blushed cheeks.
“Oh, I guess I should have gotten you an extra one.” He gave her a dark look before he walked away.
I didn’t want to know what that was about.
My dad’s voice came from the entryway. “Why is the alarm off?” Judging the tone of anger in his words, he wasn’t happy.
“I knew Roland was coming so I turned it off,” my mom called.
My dad walked back into the kitchen, not looking thrilled. “Leave. It. On.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad, chill.”
“I’m not talking to you,” he barked. He kept staring at my mom. “I don’t ask for much so please just do this for me.”
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
My dad dropped the argument then headed upstairs.
My mom kept cooking like nothing was amiss.
“Why is he like that?” I asked. Ever since I could remember, he was paranoid about our safety. I knew he had guns in safety boxes around the house, and there were cameras posted outside. Maybe he was afraid someone would rob us because we had an expensive house. I wasn’t sure.
“Your father is just very cautious…” She pulled the pan out of the oven then left it on the stove. Then she removed the garlic bread.