Sweet Rome (Sweet Home)

by Tillie Cole

  “For fuck’s sake! Please. Please. You’re scaring the shit outta me! You need to start dealing with it, dealing with everything that’s happened.” I pleaded. But she turned away, not wanting to listen… and it felt like I was dying a slow and painful death.

  “You can’t even bear to look at me, can you?”

  Her back stiffened, she whipped to face me, pure anger distorting her features, and she screamed, “There! I’m looking at you! Tell me, Rome, what would like me to deal with exactly? The fact that your mother killed my fucking baby?”

  And there it was… My baby. She no longer saw us together… We were no longer in this together.

  “Our baby, and don’t you ever forget that. I was with you all the way until the end… still am! I’m still fucking here, trying to pull you out of hell!”

  But there was nothing, not even a flicker of understanding in her eyes. She’d given up on us, and in that moment, I didn’t care either. I was over this whole friggin’ year.

  “You know what? Fuck this! I’m out!”

  I attended the dinner as requested and hours later found myself tearing through the hospital, my girl gone and nowhere to be found. Sitting in her empty room, one thing was abundantly clear: Molly had given up.

  She’d left me. She’d run.

  29

  Present Day…

  “My God, Rome,” Ally whispered, wiping at her eyes. “I never knew… never realized you both went through so much. How much you meant to each other. Saved each other.”

  “Yeah,” I croaked out. “Now you do.” I turned to Ally, who was looking around the room, biting her lip in worry. “We need to find her, Al. What if she does something stupid? She’s not thinking straight. Hasn’t been for days.”

  Her hand suddenly slapped on my arm and she pointed to the wall. “Rome, look at the date on Molly’s calendar.”

  “Flight to Heathrow. Oxford presentation,” I read out loud.

  Shit. She’d gone back to England for the presentation she’d been working on. Of course. Professor Ross would have been the person in the car at the hospital. But the flight was long gone. She was long gone.

  I immediately jumped from the bed, planning my next step.

  “Where are you going?” Ally asked frantically.

  “To Oxford. I need to get her back.”

  Ally’s hand gripped my arm. “You can’t, Rome! What about the National Championship? You’d jeopardize the draft! You can’t just leave. It’s your whole future we’re talking about here!”

  I let out a guttural scream and swiped the top of Mol’s drawers with my arm, watching all her shit fall to the floor, then turned to face Ally once more. “No, that’s where you’re wrong! Molly’s my fuckin’ life, my fuckin’ future! And right now she’s on a 747 to Heathrow Airport, friggin’ dying inside because of me, because of my psycho mother! Fuck the championship!”

  For the first time in our lives, I could see I’d scared Ally. I could see it in her ashen face, her usual olive skin bleached white with shock.

  Raking my hands through my hair, I dropped my ass to the edge of the nightstand. “Shit, Al. Sorry. I’m so sorry… I’m just going outta my mind. I don’t know what the hell to do.” It was no good; the tears I was fighting began pouring out of me. My shoulders shook and I buried my face in my hands.

  Ally’s arms embraced me while I let it all out. “Here’s what I think, Rome.” She paused, waiting for me to speak, but I couldn’t. “I say we get outta here now and go to my folks’ in Birmingham. We were scheduled to leave in a couple of days for Christmas anyway.” I stiffened and went to argue, but she continued. “Give Molls some time. She’ll come around. I know she will. I’ve never seen a couple like you two. You’re perfect together. Just let her digest everything. She’s sensitive, needs time to heal. Ring Coach. Tell him you’re going to have to take a few days away, then return for training and win the National Championship. If she still hasn’t returned, then do something. Hell, I’ll fly to England with you if needs be.”

  I knew she was right, but even spending a day apart from my girl, without hearing her voice, was going to kill me.

  Fuck. How did it all go so wrong?

  I couldn’t help but think of my folks and what they’d done. Year and years of their abuse flashed before my eyes and I hated myself for never fighting back. I wanted to hurt them, just like they’d hurt me, hurt Mol… our fucking baby! My palms felt like they were on fire and my hands curled into fists.

  “Rome?” Ally said nervously.

  “I can’t go!” I shouted, Ally cautiously stepping back across the room. “I need to find my folks. They need to be held accountable for what they’ve done!”

  “And where you gonna look?”

  “I don’t know. Everywhere. I can’t just do nothing. They’ve taken everything from me… Everything!”

  Ally moved right in front of me, panic all over her features. “Rome, I understand the need for justice, I really do, but be logical. Let the police do their job. They’ll be found and dealt with in the right way.”

  “Al…” I whispered, unable to find my voice.

  “Promise me. Don’t let them ruin your life anymore. You go after them, and you’ll end up in trouble. I know you Rome, you’ll lose it.”

  “Goddamn it, Al!” I complained, but slumping my shoulders, I reluctantly nodded my head. “Okay, we’ll go to Birmingham but… let’s go now, before I change my mind.”

  Ally tentatively placed her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get our bags packed and get straight on the road. I’ll drive.”

  I stood numbly and reluctantly left Mol’s bedroom, following Ally to her room while she got her stuff together. Everywhere I stood felt suffocating, so I stepped out on the balcony to think. It was the wrong choice; it was out here where Mol and I had really hit it off. It was the beginning of us.

  After about ten minutes, there was a panicked knock on the door, and Lexi and Cass ran in, their faces dropping when they saw me standing outside, looking at them blankly.

  “Hey, Rome. We’re sorry. We didn’t know you’d be in here,” Lexi said. I didn’t reply, just turned away again to stare out at the trees once more.

  “Where’s Molls?” Cass whispered, trying to be discreet, but her thick Texan accent sounded like a foghorn in the quiet room.

  “Gone,” Ally whispered back, causing all my muscles to tense.

  “Jesus! Gone where?” Cass asked, her own anger seeping through her words. “Wherever it is, we need to go and get her! Now!”

  “Too late, Cass. Looks like she’s gone back to Oxford, caught a flight outta here earlier tonight, hitched a ride from the hospital with the professor,” Ally informed her, and for the first time that night, I heard her own tired sadness leak through.

  Someone sniffed, and then Lexi’s soft, broken voice cut in. “Poor Molly, what must she be feeling? I want her back where she has friends. I want to hold her, comfort her, and tell her everything will be okay. No wonder she left. How’s she expected to cope with everything that happened?”

  “With me!” I screamed, almost involuntarily, and whipped to face our shell-shocked friends. Lexi’s heavy black makeup was smudged down her face, her bottom lip trembling as she stared at me, eyes wide.

  “I’m sorry, Rome, I—”

  “She had me!” I shouted again, approaching them furiously. Ally moved before me, trying to stop me with her hands flat on my chest. I cast her aside, yelling over her shoulder. “We were meant to get through all of this shit together! She promised me, over and over! I’m so fuckin’ mad at her! You all stand here crying, but she ran out on you too. She left all of us! She’s almost twenty-one and she still runs when shit gets tough! She should have fuckin’ stayed, stayed and got through our baby’s death with me!”

  Lexi and Cass stood rooted to the spot, tears streaming down their faces. I actually felt some semblance of guilt seeing Cass reduced to a weeping mess. But I was pent up with rage, stuck in fucking limbo, unabl
e to see past my own grief.

  The door burst open, and Jimmy-Don and Austin stepped in. Austin glared at me as Jimmy-Don wrapped Cass in his arms, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he registered the scene. Austin pulled Lexi beside him, cupping her face, then turned to look at me, mouth tight. He was pissed at me too?

  Perfect.

  “Rome, you need to calm the hell down and stop ripping on the girls,” Austin said calmly, but I could hear the heavy threat in his voice.

  “Fuck off, Austin. You have no idea what I’m going through,” I snapped, moving to walk away.

  His already dark eyes seemed to blacken even more, and he grabbed my arm. I looked down at his hand wrapped around my bicep and clenched my jaw.

  Austin watched me, lurching back slightly, but hissed, “You’re right, I don’t, none of us do, but don’t give Lexi shit because Molls left you, okay?” That caused me to pause, and Lexi lowered her head in embarrassment, avoiding my gaze.

  Whatever. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass as to what was going on between those two right now.

  Ripping my arm free, I looked to Ally and asked, “You ready?”

  She nodded, exhausted, and addressed the rest of our friends. “We’re going to my momma and daddy’s early. Have a nice Christmas, y’all, and we’ll catch you when we get back.” She hugged each person tightly, but I just pushed past them to the door—I wasn’t exactly full of Christmas cheer.

  A firm hand landed on my shoulder.

  Austin.

  “You okay, man?” he asked, no longer pissed, just worried.

  Shit. This was Austin, my best damn friend. I sagged and shook my head no. “She’ll come back,” he assured me.

  I met his eyes, then Cass’s and Lexi’s. “Look, about before—”

  Austin grasped my face in both of his hands, interrupting me mid-sentence. “Don’t apologize. Just get the hell out of here and get your shit together. We got a championship to bring back, and you need to be in top form.” He planted a typical Sicilian kiss to my forehead.

  Stepping back, I ran down the stairs, past all of Mol’s sorority sisters watching me in pity, and out into the crisp winter air, making my way straight over to the Mustang.

  Ally joined me seconds later and in silence, we drove to my frat house, I gathered some clothes, rang my coach, and we hit the road.

  Destination: Birmingham.

  30

  “Rome, we’re here,” I heard Ally say from beside me as the roaring engine of the Mustang grew to a stop. At first I was disorientated, but then I remembered… everything… and that excruciating pain that had subsided, if only for a short time during sleep, stabbed back into my chest with vengeance.

  Taking a deep breath and opening the passenger door, I smiled at Aunt Alita, who was running from the small country cottage, arms spread, tears running down her face, shouting, “Rome, mia Rome! Viene aqui, viene aqui!”

  Smashing against my chest and squeezing her arms around my waist, my tiny Spanish aunt cried into my shirt. The lump in my throat expanded with her over-the-top affection. It was how a mother should be—nurturing, protective, loving—and that thought sliced my heart more. Even though unborn, Molly had been all those things to our child.

  Pulling back, Aunt Alita asked, “My darling, are you okay?” in her heavily accented tongue. “Ay dios mio! Such a tragedy. May the Lord strike down your parents for such cruelty!”

  My uncle stepped onto the small porch, pulling my attention, a sympathetic frown on his face—his face that looked too similar to my father’s to bring any comfort.

  “Mama! Leave him be,” Ally said, rolling her eyes in my direction, ushering her mother away and into the house.

  With a deep breath, I walked to my uncle, stiffening as he laid his hands on my shoulders. He immediately lifted his palms into the air. “Sorry, son. I forget how much your daddy and I look alike.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to people touching me, that’s all. And yeah, you do look so much like him at times it’s uncanny.”

  Uncle Gabe smiled sadly. “Though nothing alike, I hope?” Placing his hand on the back of my head, he pulled me close. “That man is evil, Rome. I knew he wasn’t a good man. Hell, even growing up, he was an ass, but for both your momma and daddy to do what they have lately… Well, I could never have believed them capable of such behavior.”

  Letting out a humorless laugh, I said, “Yeah, well, I’m sure Charles Manson’s family thought the same about him too. Some folks are just born to be bad and no one can stop them.”

  Uncle Gabe’s brown eyes glistened, a tortured expression on his face. “I should’ve done more for you, took you away from it all… fought for you harder. I’ve let you down.” There was a pause in his breathing before he whispered, “I failed you so bad, son.”

  Shifting out of his embrace, I replied, “No, you didn’t. My bastard parents keep getting away with this shit, everyone blaming themselves for their actions. But no one’s to blame but them. For reasons only they will ever know, they take enjoyment in destroying people, people they should’ve loved.”

  Uncle Gabe’s eyes dipped, and putting his arm around my shoulder, he guided me into the small house, revealing, “Well, it seems karma may have caught up with them at long last.”

  Stopping dead, I asked quickly, “What are you talking about?”

  Walking ahead into the front room, my uncle pointed to the TV. “It’s all over the news. Hell, it’s everywhere…”

  Heart pounding, I raced into the room where Ally and Aunt Alita where already sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

  Ally went to say something, but the images on the news almost brought me to my knees, and she stayed silent.

  Breaking News: Tide Star QB’s Girlfriend Miscarries Amidst Prince Oil Money Laundering Scandal

  My exhausted mind raced to take in all the images. They showed Molly on a gurney being ushered into the back of an ambulance, with me holding tightly onto her hand, her dress and my white suit covered in blood.

  The reporter spoke in depth about the incident and the breaking story of how my momma assaulted Molly at the hospital and how she’d been arrested for assault. Next, a preview of tomorrow’s paper covered the screen, with that same fucking image, and the anchors went on to talk about the night of the dinner and how Molly had miscarried later on. It infuriated me that they didn’t even know to mention how she’d changed my fucking life, how she’d been brutally robbed of being the best fucking mother on Earth, and how she was the most important person in the world to me.

  The next image was of my father in handcuffs, being taken from his home. The usual arrogant sneer was on his face, unchanged, as the police pushed him into the squad car. The camera switched back to the anchors, who went on to discuss the massive amount of money my father had been laundering from his own company’s profits to cover what looked like some corrupt off-shore investments. They were suspecting that my father owed a set of dubious people a lot of money and that he’d drained his share of Prince Oil’s profits over the last year—the only share left in the black belonging to Martin Blair, who had yet to make a statement.

  And then it hit me. The marriage. My arranged marriage to Shelly would’ve given him access to Martin Blair’s money as per the agreement the two of them had made. The bastard! The Princes of Alabama would’ve been penniless without it… ruined.

  Money. It was always about fucking money!

  Launching to my feet, I made a move for the door, but a hand on my shoulder held me back. I struggled to get away.

  “Woah! Rome, calm down, son!” Uncle Gabe protested, backing away. Ally and Aunt Alita, all wide-eyed and nervous as they watched me fall apart.

  Gripping my hair in anger, I let out a loud scream and left the room, apologizing over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I just… I need to get out of here… I need air…”

  Bursting out into the cold night, I kicked over anything in my path: the grill, chairs, Christ, every neatl
y potted plant I could see, and rammed my left fist against the large stone wall surrounding the yard, numb to the skin ripping apart at the impact.

  All the shit I’d been put through this year was because my daddy was in debt up to his fucking eyeballs? My girl and my unborn angel destroyed because of my parents’ fucking greed! I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take any more pain or disappointment. I was drowning, fucking drowning in misery.

  Throwing myself down on a lawn chair, I pulled out my cell. Molly would still be in the air as she flew the hell away from me and the fall of the Prince Empire, but I had to call. I needed to hear her voice; it was the only thing, bar her touch, that calmed me.

  Dialing her number, my heart flipped when her voicemail message immediately played:

  Hi! You’ve reached Molly. Sorry I can’t answer the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number after the tone, I’ll get back to you when I can.

  Ending the call, I dialed the number again… and again… head lowering and heart cracking with every English-accented, “Hi!”

  After the fifth time of letting the message play out, I finally spoke:

  “Mol. There’s a story in the paper. It’s about us… about losing our angel. Christ, Mol, there’s a picture of you. It’s breaking my heart and you’re not here. My momma has been arrested for assault; my daddy has been arrested for money laundering. Please, call me. Tell me where you’re at. It’s all fucked up. I’m going crazy without you. I love you. Come back to me.”

  I hung on the line until it went dead, then succumbed to all the pain ripping me apart and, no longer able to stave them off, let out the wracking sobs. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop the shaking of my body. I was completely falling apart.

  Seconds later, I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder and I automatically flinched and moved to get up. Strong arms pushed me to stay seated, and as I looked up through my fallen hair and blurry eyes, Uncle Gabe pulled me to his chest, patting my head soothingly. “It’s okay, son, let it all out. Don’t fight it.”