Rooter (Double H Romance)

by Smith, Teiran

  “Did you let Mike go?” I ask point blank in monotone.

  He clenches his jaw. “Yes. Are you okay?”

  “No, Rooter, I’m not okay,” I answer through gritted teeth. “What did you do to him?”

  “Nothing much. Smacked him around a little, threatened him, and then you called.”

  “I think you should sit down.” I motion to the chair beside me.

  He doesn’t bother to comment or ask why before taking a seat in the recliner. “Babe, you’re freaking me out.”

  “Good! You should be. Because I’m beyond done with all the bullshit.”

  “Done? With me?”

  That’s not exactly what I meant, but… “If things don’t change, yeah.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut for a short moment. “Is this about Candace?”

  “Mostly, yeah, but it’s also about how you’ve treated me through this. It’s like I don’t even matter.”

  His eyes go wide. “Of course you matter.” He holds a hand to his chest. “How have I made you feel otherwise?”

  He’s got to be kidding. I wave my hands violently as I speak. “You run to her constantly. She could call you over a hang nail and you’d go rushing over there. It’s getting to the point that I’m thinking your feelings for her are more than you’ve admitted to.”

  Rooter shoots forward in his seat. “I can promise you they’re not. But what am I supposed to do? Ignore her? I can’t do that. She’s pregnant with my kid.”

  “Maybe. How do you know it’s your kid?”

  “I have to assume it is until it’s born and I can get a DNA test.”

  I rub my hands on the tops of my thighs. “Fine. I can accept that. But I can’t accept her calling every hour on the hour,” I’m exaggerating, but it seems that frequent, “and you running over to her all the time. She’s pregnant, not dying. Women get pregnant all the time for shit sake. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

  Rooter narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side. “What if you were pregnant? Would that be a big deal? Or should I ignore you?”

  “Like I could even get pregnant!” I shriek. “At the rate we’re going, we’ll never get an opportunity to have sex in order for me to get pregnant because you’ll be with Candace all the damn time!”

  “What do you want me to do?” Rooter hollers and throws his hands in the air. “I’m trying, all right! I don’t know what the fuck to do.” He jumps up from the chair and paces the room with his hands clasped behind his head. “Do you think I want to go running to her every damn day? Do you think I want her calling me constantly? Because I don’t. I don’t want her to be pregnant, but I can’t undo it. And I can’t hide from it. And I won’t ignore it, even if I want to, and trust me, I do!”

  “I’m not asking you to ignore the baby. I’m asking you to stop giving in to her over every little whimper and whine when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her.” I lean my elbows on my knees and hold my hands clasped in front of my face. “If we’re going to be together, you need to make time for me. For us. It’s like she knows exactly when to call so you’ll run to her and leave me hanging, which you do all the time now.”

  Rooter stops pacing and sits on the coffee table in front of me. He takes my face into his hands and stares into my eyes. “All I fucking want is you. You’re all I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. You want truth? I’ll give it to you. The truth is it would be so easy to choose you over the kid. It would be so fucking easy for me to walk away from both of them for you. The only thing stopping me is that’s what my dad did to me and my mom. And I don’t want to be like him.”

  What? When did Mick walk away? Did he leave and come back? They look like the perfect, happy family and when he speaks of them it’s as though they are. “What are you talking about?”

  Rooter leans away and looks at the floor, sullen. “Mick isn’t my real dad. Or rather I should say, my biological dad. My bio-dad abandoned me. He walked out on my mom when she was pregnant. Left her for another woman.”

  “Oh my God, Rooter. I’m so sorry.” I reach out and take his shaking hand into mine. Now things make a little more sense. I finally understand why he’s doing what he’s doing with Candace. He doesn’t want to be like his dad.

  Rooter looks back up at me. “Mom was just like Candace, trying to get by as a stripper. Had no family. She had one friend; Candace’s mom.” He exhales and sweeps a hand through his hair. His dark eyes convey a deep seated sadness. “Mick was already in love with her. He took her in when she could no longer dance. He told her he wanted to take care of me and be my dad. She eventually fell in love with him, too. He raised me like his own. Loved me like his own. There’s no differentiation between me and Isa to him. To him, I am his blood. And if the kid Candace is carrying is mine, I’m going to love him or her just the way Mick loves me.”

  There’s so much I don’t know about this man. I had no idea Mick wasn’t his biological father; that his father had abandoned him and his mother. I know the pain of abandonment. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even my worst enemy. If only I’d known. Rooter is carrying around the same pain I carry. The same anger I carry. At this moment, I understand him in an entirely new way. Tears pool in my eyes and I fight to keep them back. The last thing Rooter needs is for me to break down.

  I say the only thing I can even though I know it won’t make him feel any better. “I’m so very sorry.”

  “I know the situation is fucked up and that I’m asking way too much of you. I should let you go. This isn’t fair to you.”

  “Rooter, no,” I squeeze his hand and speak with conviction. “You can’t let me go because I’m not going anywhere. I won’t abandon you when you need me most.”

  “I do need you. But you’re right.” He looks away. “We can’t go on like this. It’ll never work.”

  I grab him by the chin and turn his face to mine. “Then we don’t go on like this. We figure out a balance. Together.”

  He looks at me with a tormented expression; a mixture of hope of what could be and sorrow for what has been.

  I continue since he can’t seem to speak. “But you need to work with me.”

  When he finally speaks his voice is soft, yet passionate. “I can do that, babe. I can.”

  “I would never ask you to abandon your child. I’m only asking for you to make a little time for us.”

  Rooter’s phone rings. It’s Candace calling, naturally. As always, her timing is impeccable. Rooter closes his eyes and shakes his head, struggling with what to do. He keeps his eyes closed until the phone stops ringing.

  He opens his eyes and focuses on mine. “I will make time for us.”

  “Uninterrupted time,” I clarify.

  He nods. “Uninterrupted.”

  “And there’s something else.”

  Rooter looks at me seemingly exhausted. When he doesn’t say anything, I go on.

  “You need to give me a say in things that concern me. Like the situation with Mike.”

  “He deserves to pay for what he did.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t get to decide the price on your own.”

  Rooter cracks his neck. “He deserves worse than he got.”

  I sigh with exasperation. He needs to stop fighting me on this. “Maybe so. But Miranda doesn’t and she will feel any pain you inflict on him.” He nods in understanding, but I can tell he doesn’t like it. “Promise me, going forward we’ll make time for each other and we’ll make decisions that affect us both, together.”

  “I promise.” He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine. “I’m going to get this right.”

  Chapter 34

  The Surprise

  I’ve spent the entire day cleaning the house, mowing the lawn, and weeding the mulch beds. The house doesn’t get as dirty as fast with Mike gone, but Miranda and I let the cleaning schedule go by the wayside. Therefore, things aren’t being done as often as they should be. The problem is, Miranda doesn’t mind a messy house as wh
ere I prefer things to be neat and orderly. However, she has been doing the dishes in the evenings so I must give her credit for that.

  After showering and getting dressed, I lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling. It’s so quiet. I love the quiet. I could use a little more quiet in my life.

  The ceiling fan blades are coated with dust. I have half a mind to get the step ladder and clean them, but I don’t. As I stare at them, it occurs to me they haven’t been cleaned since before Loraine died. There’s more than a year’s worth of dust on those blades. Dust from when she was still alive. A lump forms in my throat and my chest aches. How can dust make me nostalgic?

  I force myself to look away from the blades and check the clock on the wall. Rooter should be home from work in a half hour. We don’t have any specific plans, but I’m sure we’ll do something together since it’s my day off. Maybe we can go for a ride along the lakeshore and then grab dinner somewhere.

  Four days have passed since the Mike and Candace incidents. We never heard from Mike after Rooter let him go. Though Rooter and Bear have kept a close eye on me and Miranda just to be sure.

  Things between me and Rooter have vastly improved. Candace still calls every day. In some ways, she’s more demanding than ever. Probably because she feels she’s losing her grip on him. But he doesn’t answer her calls or texts when we’re together. He waits and we listen to her messages together and decide whether it truly warrants an immediate return call. So far, none of them have.

  Rather than him seeing her every day, it’s turned into every other day, which is a fifty percent reduction, so I’ll take it. I’m hoping over time, as Rooter sees she’s just fine that his visits with her will become even less frequent.

  She called all day Sunday—she must know Sundays are my day off—but he never answered. When we woke up that morning we made a vow not to discuss any of the prior day’s events and decided not to attend the Russo family dinner. We needed a day of light and fun, which was ironic considering there was a raging tempest outside.

  In light of our oath, we spent the entire stormy day in his house curled up on the couch watching comedies, laughing until our sides ached, and eating junk food. Well, I ate junk food. Rooter never eats junk food. Never. The closest thing to junk food he’ll eat is lightly buttered popcorn. So we always make two separate batches because I like mine doused in butter and sprinkled with salt. As Rooter says, I like a little popcorn with my butter and salt.

  Between my work schedule and his we barely see each other except for when I get off work. Naturally, we spend every night together. I still think it’s way too soon for us to be spending every night together. But given our differing schedules and the situation with Mike, I go along with it.

  Each night, he curls up against me from behind and we talk for an hour or so about our day, work, and Miranda and Bear. I’m itching to ask about his past and his real dad. I’m eager to learn more about him. But the middle of the night isn’t the time for having such important conversations. And that specific conversation is better to be put off for a little while. I’m all for keeping things light and fun for as long as we can.

  My cell phone pings. A text from Rooter: Ur car is finished. I’ll be by to get u in 15 minutes.

  I set my phone down, close my eyes and wait for him to arrive.

  When I open my eyes, Rooter is passed out in the recliner. He’s slumped over to his right with his mouth hanging open. I check the clock. I’ve been asleep for over an hour and never even heard him come in. The poor guy must be exhausted. He’s only averaged four hours of sleep a night. By the time I get home from work and we talk for a little while, he doesn’t fall asleep until around two in the morning. Then he has to turn around and get up at six o’clock to get to the shop.

  When Rooter is asleep, he’s completely adorable. His face is relaxed and sweet. I yearn to go over and touch his cheek, but I don’t want to wake him.

  With a severe case of cotton mouth, I’m in dire need of water. I stand and tiptoe toward the kitchen, but the moment I walk by the chair the damn wood floor creaks and wakes him up.

  “Hey, babe,” he mumbles with sleepy eyes and straightens up in the chair.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

  He shakes his head and holds his hand out for me. I take it and he draws me onto his lap. “It’s too late to get your car. Molly’s is closed now.”

  “I can have Ryan take me to pick it up in the morning.”

  He grins mischievously and shakes his head. “You won’t be here in the morning.”

  “What?” I ask, curious. “Where will I be?”

  Rooter rubs his hands together rapidly. “You and I are going away for a few days.”

  My mouth falls open. “But I have to work.”

  He shakes his head and smiles. “I already talked to Randy. He’s giving you the next three days off.”

  Oh my God. Is he serious? I lean back trying to process this unexpected information. “What? When did you talk to him?”

  “Earlier today. He was totally cool with it.”

  I raise an eyebrow. Randy is probably the most easy going boss on the planet, but even he has his limits. Giving me three days off with zero notice doesn’t sound like him.

  Rooter wraps his arms around me. “Trust me. It’s all good.”

  I stare at him, skeptical. “Are you sure?”

  “Call him. He’ll tell you.”

  I reach behind me and retrieve my phone from my back pocket and do just that. Randy confirms that yes, he has given me Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off. He laughs and says that Rooter can be very persuasive. When I ask him what he means by that, he tells me to ask the man with the plan.

  “So, Randy says you,” I poke him in the chest playfully, “are very persuasive. Care to tell me a little about that?”

  Rooter shrugs. “I convinced a couple of your co-workers to work in your place. Hannah and Emily, I think their names were.”

  Randy said he was “persuasive.” He had to have been extremely convincing. Hannah and Emily aren’t my biggest fans. They wouldn’t agree to work for me if I begged them. I know this because I’ve begged them in the past. “Exactly how did you convince them?” I fold my arms across my chest.

  Rooter rubs the back of his neck, nervous to tell me. “I’m paying them.”

  “You’re paying them?” I ask confused. “Why isn’t Randy paying them?”

  “He is.” He clears his throat. “I agreed to double their earnings for each night.”

  He’s doing what? “Oh my God, Rooter. You can’t do that. They could earn as much as four hundred bucks each!”

  He shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “No worries, babe. We need this time away together. I don’t care what it costs.”

  I laugh nervously. “You’re crazy. I can’t believe you did that.”

  Actually, when I think about it, I can. Nothing Rooter does surprises me. I should know this by now.

  “Do you remember me telling you there’s very little I wouldn’t do for you?” He squeezes my thigh and nuzzles my neck.

  I nod. Of course I remember. But I never expected anything like this; paying two girls—what will likely amount to hundreds of dollars—to work for me so he can take me who knows where to do who knows what. And knowing him it will be something extravagant.

  “I’m trying to make things right so we can get back on track,” he says and brings his lips to mine for a gentle, loving kiss. “I never want you to doubt your importance to me. You are priceless.”

  I gasp. Did he really just say that? This is the Rooter I’m crazy about. The one looking at me as though I am the most prized possession in the entire world. I’ve missed him. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything.” He smacks my ass and chuckles. “Go pack a bag woman. We need to get on the road.”

  I’m not sure which I like better, romantic or playful Rooter. Each is equally charming. “We’re leaving tonight?” If I’d kn
own I would’ve done laundry today.

  He looks at the clock. “Yep, and we need to get going.”

  I start up the stairs to pack and Rooter follows me. “Don’t you need to pack?” I ask.

  He cocks his head to the side as if I should already know the answer. “I packed yesterday. All I need to do is load it into the truck.”

  “Oh.” Of course he’s packed. “What should I pack? I don’t even know where we’re going.”

  “It’s a surprise. All I’ll say is to pack that yellow bikini you were wearing the day we met.” He winks and my heart flutters.

  “That doesn’t help much.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He waves in the air nonchalantly. “If you need something when we’re there, we’ll buy it.”

  I stare at him with wide eyes. “You are too much.”

  “No, I’m not.” He shakes his head and suddenly looks almost sad. “Sophie, there’s no such thing as too much when it comes to you and from here on out, I’m going to prove it.”

  Chapter 35

  Most Beautiful Thing

  After driving north for a little over two hours, a cheerful sign welcomes us to Ambrose, population 3,163. We drive through the “Downtown” which consists of three two story buildings, a tiny post office, a bank, and a diner called Pa’s. Pa’s is crammed with smiling joyous people.

  During the drive here, Rooter kept looking at me with a silly, happy grin. He’s so excited about wherever he’s taking us. His hand rests on my thigh rubbing small circles with his thumb. At this moment, I am completely at peace.

  Rooter removes his phone from his back pocket and makes a call. He tells whoever is on the other end we’ll be there soon.

  Once we’ve made it through downtown, he makes a left at a stop sign onto a gravel road. The road is tree lined with gated driveways leading to houses which are hidden from view. We follow the road for ten minutes until we come to the end and must choose to either turn left or right. In front of us is a mountainous hill, also tree covered. Rooter turns right followed by a quick left to an uphill winding road. When we make it to the top of the hill I see the expanse of Lake Michigan.