Perfect Little Plan

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Perfect Little Plan Page 19

by Jennifer Miller


  “Listen here, young lady, I own you. I own the building you live in. The spa you work in. I can make your life a living hell. Don’t you dare speak to your mother or me like that and you will behave the way of a Lexington or we are going to have a problem.”

  “How dare you! Own me? And by the way, I am behaving like a Lexington – like Pyper Lexington. All the rest of it, you can take and shove up your ass.”

  I look up and see Rixton standing in the doorway with his mouth wide open. I practically run to him, “We’re leaving.” He nods his head, turns to my parents and says, “It was nice to meet you ma’am. Sir.”

  He takes my arm and walks me to the door while I hear my father calling my name behind me.

  ONCE IN RIXTON’S TRUCK, we can’t get out of there fast enough. Racing down the driveway, buckling our seatbelts as we go, we both breathe sighs of relief as we get through the gates and start our way back to my condo to take me home. I just want to go home.

  My eyes are tingling with unshed tears, and my heart aches due to a mixture of sadness, embarrassment and hurt. My father was so far out of line. I couldn’t just sit there and let him talk to Rixton like that. The more he tried to insult and emasculate him, the more defensive I felt myself get on his behalf.

  Like it or not, Rixton has become a huge part – a very important part of my life; my heart. He’s burrowed himself in there so deep, I’m so far past gone. Looking at his profile, seeing his clenched teeth and grip on the wheel, my heart lurches because while I’m not responsible for my father’s actions, they are embarrassingly pathetic all the same. They feel like a reflection on me.

  As far as my father goes, I’ve never stood up to him like that before. Not ever. I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. There is no mistaking the fact that my father or mother couldn’t care less about my own happiness. Not, at least, if it’s discovered outside of the boundaries they’ve created. I’m allowed to be happy and do what I want to do as long as I stick to his rules, his expectations.

  How did I not realize that he purposefully maneuvered certain aspects of my life in order to have control over me? How sick is that? I’ve never done anything to disappoint him, or to go outside of the boundaries and limitations he’s set. Not ever. So why the need for it? I feel foolish, because I guess I never realized how controlling he really is. Yes, I knew he had specific desires and goals for me, certain outcomes and achievement, but not to this extent.

  “Are you okay?” Rixton looks at me briefly to ask his question before returning his glance to the road.

  I laugh. And I can’t stop laughing. Between last night, Joanna earlier today and whatever his damn secret is, to tonight, I’m feeling so far out of control that I want to lose my mind. Is it any wonder I’ve been so careful about having a plan for my life? I do it because it helps me feel like I’m in control – that I have some say in my life. How stupid of me to think that I ever had any say in anything.

  Rixton looks concerned and reaches over to put a hand on my knee, but in frustration I push it off and look out my window. “No. No, I’m not okay.”

  Rixton never speaks again and I’m strung so tight by the time we get back to the condo, I throw down my jacket and turn to him immediately. “I guess I need to start looking for a new place to live. And maybe I should consult an attorney and see what can be done about the spa. I mean, my father bought it as a gift to me yes, but it’s in my name. I wonder if I can somehow set up payments to repay him or do something.”

  “Pyper, just calm down. Your father will probably call you tomorrow to apologize and it will be like this never happened.”

  “You don’t know my father,” I tell him laughingly. “He never apologizes because in his mind he is never wrong. No, he’s going to do something to make my life hell in order to try to show me who’s in charge and just how much control he has over me.”

  “That seems a bit extreme. At the end of the day, I’m sure he loves you and wants you to be happy. I’m sure that’s why he asked all those questions. He only wants the best for you. I can imagine feeling that way toward a daughter.”

  “That’s hilarious coming from the guy who just sat through that sick inquisition.”

  “Well that doesn’t have anything to do with how he will treat you relating to your condo and business.”

  “Are you kidding me? It has everything to do with it. Do you know I’ve never brought a guy to meet my parents before? Never. They know… they know, how important you must be to me in order for me to have brought you over there.”

  His eyes soften at my words and he takes a step toward me running his hand down the side of my face and jaw. “I would have handled your father. You didn’t have to get defensive on my behalf. I’m a grown man, I can handle whatever he throws at me.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Pyper—”

  “No. You don’t get it. I’m tired of this.” I look at Rixton with exasperation in my voice and likely all over my face. “I walk around with a happy attitude and with enthusiasm seeping out of my pores. I can give Olivia great advice and tell her to jump and take chances and do what she needs to do to make herself happy. In the meantime, I’ve been living a lie. Trying to pretend that everything is great, when all I’ve been doing is suffocating. Suffocating under expectations that make no sense. They make no sense, Rixton,” I cry. “I’ve never done anything for him to be ashamed of. And I would have done well, rules or not. I’m a good person. I deserve more. I deserve to be happy and they – my parents – should want that for me. I just want to be able to be me.”

  Placing a kiss on my lips, Rixton looks deep into my eyes. “I’m falling in love with the person that you are.” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip and my heart leaps into my throat. In the midst of this impossible situation, I feel overwhelming joy and happiness. He looks at me, but not with expectation. He doesn’t expect or even want for me to return his sentiments. He’s sharing his feelings with me and if I return them, he will be happy, but I can see he’s not waiting for me to tell him the same. There’s no demand there. No rule. And it makes me fall that much more in love. When he leans in to kiss me again, I tilt up my chin and feel eager to kiss him back until a rock settles in my stomach and I pull back, and stop him in his tracks with the question that’s been plaguing me all day. I’m obviously on a roll tonight, so why not. “Who’s Joanna?”

  Pulling back from me a little so he can run his eyes over my face in question, his eyes widen and his mouth drops open slightly before he asks, “What did you ask me?”

  “Based on the look on your face, you heard me just fine. I asked you who Joanna is?”

  He steps back from me completely and pulls at the collar of his shirt. He looks to the side, puts his hands in his pockets, and pulls them out again. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally responding. “How do you know Joanna?”

  I stare at him so hard that I’m surprised I’m not able to penetrate his brain and read it without words. Obviously, he’s not going to outright answer my question. “I received a phone call this morning while I was at work,” I begin. His eyes are locked on mine and I can see the uncertainty, worry and fear in his. His fear makes my stomach burn. “I looked at my screen and saw your name. Imagine my surprise when I answered, and a woman’s voice asked for me.”

  Rixton stiffly walks past me and goes into the living room and looks out the window into the black night, before turning back to me. The room is dark, so before continuing, I turn on the lights. The brightness feels as if it’s indicative of the light shining onto whatever Rixton’s trying to keep in the dark. When he turns back to face me he finally speaks, “What did she say?”

  “She said she wanted to meet me. That she had some things to tell me.”

  Running his hand through his hair, he takes a tentative step toward me, “If you’re asking me who she is, it seems you didn’t meet her?”

  “Oh, I met her alright, but let’s just say she wasn’t ex
actly forthcoming. She was purposefully vague, but definitely got her point across nevertheless, which was to stay away from you.”

  His jaw tightens and his lips form a straight line. I see anger flare in his eyes and he loudly blows out a breath, “I can’t fucking believe her.”

  “Who. Is. She?” He stares at me and his silence pisses me off. “I mean obviously I know she’s the woman I keep seeing you with. The woman that is somehow wrapped up in whatever the hell is going on with you. But that’s all I know.”

  “I didn’t want to go into this yet. Especially not tonight, after that disaster of a dinner.”

  “You know, maybe it’s the perfect time, darlin’,” I mockingly throw his nickname for me back at him. “I really don’t think it can get a whole lot worse at this point.”

  He continues to stare at me, not saying a word and not backing down, I stare back. “Tell me what’s going on, Rixton. I told you I would wait for you to tell me. I told you I understood and I tried. But that was before some woman called me from your phone, while you were in the bathroom by the way she said, and insulted me, and made me feel like shit for something I don’t know anything about. So, I’m sorry, I think the time for secrets is over.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.” I patiently wait while he appears to work it out in his mind. “I met Joanna in college.”

  That is not what I was expecting. “In college?”

  He nods in affirmation. “Yes. We dated for a little while before I left to go back to Texas. We broke up when I left.” He looks at me and silently gestures to the couch suggesting we take a seat. I do, and he continues. “There was no point, in my opinion, to continue a relationship with her when I was leaving and not coming back.”

  “But she didn’t want that and now that you’re back, she wants to have a relationship again?”

  He shakes his head and smiles sadly which makes me tense, my stomach dropping again. I have a bad feeling about this. “She’s the reason I came back to Chicago.”

  I don’t think, I just stand and move away from him. “Oh my God, so you’ve been lying to me all this time?”

  He stands and faces me too, anger on his face, “How many times do I have to tell you, I will never lie to you? I haven’t.”

  “Says you! How the hell would I know if you have or not? Just be honest. If she’s the reason you came back here, then why are you wasting your time with me?”

  “I’ve never wasted one second with you. Not one. Every second, every minute, every moment with you has mattered to me.”

  I refuse to let his words affect me, “So what then? You two got in a fight or something and so you thought you’d screw around with me in the interim?”

  “God, no. How could you think that?”

  I turn around and stare at him. “What am I supposed to think, Rixton? She calls me up, telling me to stay away from you because you have other more important priorities. She said she didn’t want you to waste your time with me! So is that what I am? A waste of time?”

  “No, of course not-“

  “She also said she was actually trying to save me some heartache. I got disgusted and left, flipping her the bird on the way, because I thought she was just being a bitch. Was she?”

  “She—”

  “Oh God. What did I do? What the hell did I do? I mean, I brought you to meet my parents and just confronted them over a guy that doesn’t even want to be with me. This is fucking rich.”

  “Pyper!” He yells my name so loud that it startles me out of my hysteria. He comes up to me and grabs my arms, strong enough to gain my attention, but not enough to hurt.

  “No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare fucking touch me! How dare you do this to me!”

  “It isn’t what you think!” I start to laugh and even make myself nervous because there’s a hysterical edge to it. “Calm down. Please. I’ll explain. Take deep breaths, in and out. In and out.” I feel ridiculous but it helps. “Better?”

  I nod my head, “Yes.” I pull away from him, still not wanting him to touch me.

  “Darlin’, please, please, listen to me,” he pleads.

  Taking a deep breath, I nod my head again, “Okay.”

  He takes a deep breath, as if to calm his nerves, then looks me in the eyes. “I have a daughter. A seven-year old daughter.”

  And just like that, everything changes.

  LYING IN BED, BURIED UNDER BLANKETS, I keep asking myself if I did the right thing. The past week has been almost unbearable. Staying away from Rixton has been harder than I thought it would be. His revelation keeps playing out in my mind over and over. “I have a daughter,” echoes constantly in my head. And so do all the words we exchanged after.

  “A daughter?”

  “Yes. About a month before I moved here, Joanna called me at the ranch. Shocked the hell out of me when she told me we have a daughter and that she’s kept it from me all this time.”

  Holding my hand up, silently asking him to stop talking, he does. “That’s enough. I can’t hear anymore right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I need time to process this information, okay? I know you want to explain, but I’m not ready to hear everything else. In all honesty, just the fact that you have a daughter and her mother hates me, is a lot to think about. We’ve been dating for… for what? A couple months? How could you not tell me this?”

  “I had a really good reason. You told me during one of our dates that you don’t want children for a long, long time. I was afraid to tell you.”

  “It’s kind of an important thing to tell the person you’re dating. I mean, I get not telling me at first, I think, but I thought… I thought… ”

  “You thought what?”

  “I thought even though we said we were taking this one day, one moment, at a time, that…” I hesitate again because I feel very vulnerable, but at this point, what does it matter? “I thought we both knew without saying we wanted more. So, that’s why I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

  He reaches out like he wants to touch me, but drops his hand. “You aren’t wrong, darlin’. And I was going to tell you. In time.”

  “In time,” I whisper. “Well, I need some time to think about this, okay?”

  “Well first, just let me explain what happened.”

  “No,” he opens his mouth to talk again and I shake my head. “It has been a really awful day. Between my meeting with Joanna and dinner with my father, I’m not in a position to be able to process this thoughtfully, kindly or rationally. At all. I have no doubt you have your reasons for not telling me, and someday, maybe I’ll let you tell me what they are. But, for both of our sakes, that time is not right now.”

  “So, what? You just want me to leave? You can’t ask me to do that. Please don’t ask me to do that.”

  Remembering the pleading in his tone brings tears to my eyes. I burrow further into my bed and squeeze my eyes closed, trying to push the thoughts from my mind. A few tears escape when I squeeze my eyes closed and I brush them aside swiftly, trying to pretend they aren’t there.

  I haven’t been worth a damn this past week. I’ve been lying around feeling sorry for myself. Perhaps I should feel bad about that, but I can’t rustle up enough energy to do so. I tried to go into work a day, but my mind was so busy thinking about everything but work. When I signed into our appointment booking account and accidentally pushed a button that cleared everyone’s schedules for the day, I decided it was time to get the hell out of dodge. I instructed my assistant manager to call the company that we use for computer back up to restore the information, told her I was taking personal time the rest of the week, then got the hell out. Reminding myself I told her I was only a phone call away if anything came up, made me feel better so I lost the guilt when I went home and burrowed myself in my room.

  After I asked Rixton to leave, he did so and remained silent that night, but the phone calls and texts began immediately the next day. They continued to c
ome in constantly the first few days. At first, I couldn’t listen to his messages. The last thing I wanted to do was hear his voice. I knew I would cave and call him back when I just needed and wanted time to be angry, and just feel how I want to feel without his influence. Then, I gave in and listened to his messages aside from just reading his texts. He keeps apologizing with everyone. Over and over he repeats how sorry he is and begs me to talk to him. Begs me to hear him out and give us a chance. He wants a chance to explain and tells me he knows we can make this work.

  I want to believe him. I want to just pick up the phone, give him a call, and talk about this. I really do. But, I still don’t know how to feel about everything. I have such mixed emotions and I feel confused. I find myself longing for the kind of relationship I don’t have with my stepmother. I wish I could call her and talk to her about this and get advice. I would think she, better than anyone, would understand some of the thoughts I’m thinking; would understand some of my fears. But, that’s not an option.

  What I do know is that somehow Rixton has managed to integrate himself into my life. Despite my best intentions to do what’s expected of me, I broke all my rules for him. I took a chance, kept going back for more, and couldn’t stay away. After the disastrous dinner with my father, in some ways I feel like I gave up everything for him, but in return, he couldn’t even be forthcoming with me about one of the most important things in his life, and that hurts. It really hurts.

  Closing my eyes, I try to block out the stab of pain my heart feels at my thoughts. I let myself start to succumb to the laziness that envelops me because allowing myself to fall asleep, is better than being awake and tormenting myself with thoughts of what I should do next.

 

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