The Imperfections: A Forbidden Romance

by Sam Mariano

  Even though she clearly heard me and there was nothing to misunderstand that time, she continues to stare at me for several seconds. Finally, she says, “This is your boyfriend?”

  I nod, my eyes widened with adamancy. “Yes, Mom, this is Brant.”

  It takes another moment for her to recover from her surprise. I probably should’ve mentioned he was older than me so she would’ve been more prepared, but it never crossed my mind she would mistake him for my age-appropriate boyfriend’s father. God, how embarrassing.

  “Well, come in,” she says, glancing from me back to him, still looking like she hasn’t entirely digested the information.

  I hold onto Brant’s arm a little tighter, hoping he’s not too embarrassed by my mom’s confusion. I look up at him as we turn the corner, but if he’s offended, I can’t tell. He looks slightly amused, actually.

  Relief trickles through me as my sister comes into view. Amber looks beautiful, as always. Her long blonde hair has more volume than mine and she spends more time styling it, so even though it’s loose down her back and around her shoulders, it looks really pretty. She’s wearing neutral earth tones, a low cut top that shows off her ample cleavage and a skirt that showcases her long legs. My sister has great legs. On impulse, I look up at Brant as he spots her to see if he checks her out, but his gaze doesn’t drift below her face.

  My sister rushes forward with a big, friendly smile. “Hi, you must be Brantley! I’m Alyssa’s sister, Amber.”

  “Brant,” I say, watching closely as she gives him a hug in greeting. “He just goes by Brant.”

  “Right, of course.” She pulls back and beams at him. “It’s so nice to meet you, Brant. I’ve heard almost nothing about you.”

  “At least you haven’t heard bad things, I suppose,” he offers back lightly. “Good to meet you, too.”

  Keeping up the hectic pace of this greeting parade, my nephew comes crawling over to see what all the fuss is about. I bend down to pick him up and settle him on my hip, planning to introduce him to Brant, but before I can, my sister’s eyes go wide and she grabs the left hand I have under Rudy’s leg to support him.

  “Oh my god,” she says, staring at my engagement ring then looking up at me pointedly. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Not yet,” I whisper, before glancing around to make sure no one noticed her noticing. “Jeeze, how did you even notice that quickly?”

  Grabbing my arm, she hisses, “Are you pregnant?”

  “Amber, come on, we’re supposed to sit down to dinner first.”

  We’re doing our best to communicate in hushed whispers, but I’m worried someone will overhear so I pull back and shift my hand so my ring is covered by my nephew’s beefy little leg.

  Eyes still wide in shock, Amber looks from me to Brant. A little more subdued, she takes a step back toward the kitchen counter. “All right. Well, we ordered a couple of pizzas. Paper plates are on the counter. We’re out of paper towels but the pizza place sent napkins. Use them sparingly,” she half jokes.

  My niece, Rianne, comes over to the counter, saying, “Pizza, pizza, pizza!”

  “She likes pizza,” Amber tells Brant with a chuckle.

  No one cleared off the table so anyone could sit down, so I ask, “Should I clear the table, or are we not sitting there?”

  “Pappy’s in a mood,” Amber explains, rolling her eyes. “Insists he’s not sitting at the damn table. I’ll sit there with you if you don’t mind messy little ones.”

  I glance up at Brant semi-apologetically, but his face is more or less impassive. If he’s unimpressed by this disorganized dinner, it’s impossible to tell.

  I head back to the living room and begin clearing off the card table while Brant hangs back to keep my nephew company and chat with my sister. I don’t expect my mom to come and help, but she does, grabbing a fistful of old mail and shooting me a look.

  “You could’ve warned me that your boyfriend is my age.”

  “He’s not your age,” I murmur, glancing across the room to make sure Brant’s not in hearing range. “He’s a few years younger.”

  “He’s basically my age,” she says more firmly. “Good-looking, too. You could’ve set me up with him. You’re way too young for a man like that, Alyssa. I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

  I don’t bother answering her, just quickly finish putting away the stuff on top. My mom pulls the card table out away from the wall to make room for one more seat, then shakes her head, suddenly distressed by how unfit for company our house is.

  “I wish you’d given me more notice than this,” she tells me. “Bernice at work just bought a new dining set, so I probably could’ve bought her old one cheap.”

  “If you had a chance to buy a more reliable table than this one, I don’t know why you didn’t do it, regardless of plans to have over company for dinner.”

  She’s never seemed worried that we didn’t have a proper kitchen table before, but apparently when there’s a man to impress, then it matters. Figures.

  Only partially paying attention, she asks me quietly, “So, what does he do? Does he have a job?”

  “Of course he has a job.” I glance in Brant’s direction again. “He owns his own bar in town, and he does woodworking on the side—not for money, but he could. The stuff he makes is really nice quality.”

  “Really?” She sounds even more interested as she looks in the direction I was just looking. Brant appears through the doorway now, walking toward us. My mom perks up. “Brant, Alyssa was just telling me you do woodworking. How interesting. How’d you get into that?”

  Brant shrugs, both of his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ve always tinkered with it a little bit. When I moved onto my property, I had some of the trees chopped down to make some clearer hiking paths through the woods. My dog was getting old, couldn’t see as well as he used to. Having a bunch of extra wood, I wanted to do something with it.”

  “Your property?”

  Brant nods. “I own a decent chunk of land ’bout twenty minutes outside of town. That’s where I live.”

  “An outdoorsy man,” she says, flashing a pleasant smile I’d almost call flirty if that wouldn’t be utterly disgusting. “I like that.”

  Brant flicks a glance at me, like he’s also picking up a weird vibe, but it’s impossible that my mom is actually trying to flirt with him, right? Just in case, he offers back a friendly enough, “Alyssa seems to like it.”

  Ignoring his attempt to direct attention back to me, my mom says, “Well, I was just telling Alyssa how embarrassed I am you caught us at such an inconvenient time. We had a nice cherry wood dining table, but the leg came loose and we had to get rid of it. We’ve been using this one in the meantime until I can find another one we like.”

  We have absolutely never had a cherry wood table. Once, we had a blonde wood table with an uneven leg, once we had a round table that was barely big enough for four people, but never have we had anything of quality like she’s trying to make him believe.

  “Do you make tables?” she asks him.

  “Occasionally,” he answers.

  “Maybe you should make one for us. I’d be happy to buy one from you.”

  “Mom,” I say, shooting her a look.

  “What?” She looks back at me innocently.

  “Brant’s busy—he doesn’t have time to make you a table no one would ever use.”

  “Of course we’d use it,” she says dismissively, but then she straightens and turns her attention back to Brant. “Alyssa tells me you’re a business owner, too? Where have you been hiding all this time? I swear, I’ve met just about everyone in this town, but somehow I’ve never crossed paths with you.”

  Thank God for that. Walking over to Brant, I loop my arms around his neck like I’m just giving him a hug, but I whisper, “This is so weird. I’m so sorry about all this.”

  He wraps his strong arms around my waist and kisses the side of my face but doesn’t otherwise acknowl
edge my apology. “You hungry?”

  “Not so much anymore,” I mutter back.

  His dark eyes sparkle with amusement and he dips his head to steal a little kiss on the lips. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

  Brant lets me go, but he still takes my hand and leads me back to the kitchen, blessedly away from my mother. Of course she follows us, trying to make conversation with Brant like I brought him as a blind date for her instead of to introduce him as mine. It’s intensely uncomfortable, but he dodges her easily enough.

  The card table is really only big enough for four of us, so my sister sets Rianne up at her pink Disney princess folding table in the corner and Rudy in his high chair next to Amber. My mom ends up awkwardly putting Brant in the corner with his back against the wall, across from me and next to her.

  All I want to do is leave, but at least after this, I can be reasonably sure Brant will never make me invite my mom to dinner again. This would’ve been so much nicer if Mom would’ve gone to her boyfriend’s like she planned and only Amber and I would’ve really been having dinner with Brant.

  Pappy is, in fact, in a mood, so he’s in his recliner watching TV and hasn’t even said a single word to me since we got here. He certainly hasn’t spoken to Brant—I’m not even sure he noticed he’s here—and at this point, I’m not going to bother trying to change that.

  The sooner this is over, the sooner I can go back to Brant’s house and hopefully wipe the memory of this night from his brain.

  Given Brant isn’t exactly a people person, I’m surprised how convincingly sociable he is throughout dinner. It probably helps that pizza is a pretty quick meal. It wasn’t what I had in mind for this dinner, but I also didn’t think my mom would throw herself at my boyfriend. Now that she has, I’m glad there’s one stupid course and then we can go home.

  I’m not sure when or how to bring up what we came to dinner to tell everyone, but luckily, Brant takes the wheel, despite the fact that it’s my family.

  All the adults have finished eating but haven’t left the table yet. Brant drops his balled-up napkin on the paper plate in front of him and leans back in his chair, needing to take up more space than the flimsy folding chair allows. As if he’s comfortable, he says, “Well, thank you for dinner. This was very nice, and I’m glad I got to meet all of you.”

  “Oh, it was so nice meeting you, too,” my mom tells him, still being fake as can be as she inexplicably still works at charming him. “You certainly weren’t what I was expecting. When Alyssa told me she was bringing home a boyfriend, I thought she meant that nice-looking neighbor kid who’s always jogging by and flirting with her. Derek, wasn’t it?” she asks, looking over at me.

  I narrow my eyes at her blatant attempt to tell on me. “Dirk.”

  “Dirk, that’s it,” she says, nodding and looking back at Brant. “I guess that’s over already. You know how kids are, never focused on one thing too long.”

  “What does that even mean?” I snap.

  Brant holds up a hand, apparently to halt me from fighting with my mom, and my eyes widen in outrage. I nearly jump across the table and scratch his handsome face off, but before I can, he addresses her. “Anyway, as nice as it was to meet everybody, that wasn’t the only reason I came over tonight.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I announce without preamble.

  My sister nearly chokes on a sip of water, her eyes widening at my bluntness.

  I’m short-tempered right now, so I hold up my left hand and look at my wide-eyed, horrified mother. “Also, we’re getting married.”

  “What?” she shrieks.

  I look across the table at Brant. His jaw’s hanging open a few inches, surprise written all over his handsome face at my graceless announcement.

  “Alyssa, you’re too young to get married,” my mother tells me.

  I shrug, pushing back the metal folding chair and grabbing my paper plate off the table. “Regardless, I am. So, we wanted to tell you. I’m also gonna be moving in with Brant, obviously. The wedding… well, there’s no date yet since we just got engaged, but it won’t be too far off. We want to get married before I start to show, otherwise finding a pretty dress that fits is going to be a whole thing.”

  “Now, wait just a minute,” my mother says, standing up from the table and following me out of the room. “Alyssa Anne, you stop right now. We’re going to talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I tell her, stopping at the counter and dumping my plate into the trash can at the end of it.

  “There is a whole hell of a lot to talk about,” she disagrees, wide-eyed as she stops beside me at the counter. “You’re pregnant? Haven’t you learned anything from your sister? What the hell, Alyssa—are you stupid?”

  “This isn’t going to be like that. Brant’s an amazing man and he’s going to be an incredible father. He’s going to marry me and we’re going to be partners in this. It’s not going to be like it has been for Amber.”

  “Honey, men his age aren’t sleeping with 18-year-old girls because they’re looking for anything serious. This is a mistake. You’re too young for him, too immature. You don’t know a damn thing about life, and he’s not going to think that’s adorable for very long. Once you’re waddling around, the size of a house, with swollen ankles and an aching back, I assure you, that man is not going to be as smitten with you as he is now.”

  “You don’t know anything about him,” I tell her, aggravated by the way she’s lumping Brant in with the sort of men she has been with.

  “Oh, I know men, trust me. I know teenagers don’t think their mothers know anything, but believe me, I know. I have lived through this, and I know how quickly the love fades when an unwanted pregnancy pops up.”

  Everything she says makes me so angry I think my head will explode. “I wasn’t asking for your permission or your blessing. I’m 18, I’m legally an adult, and I’ve already made my decision.”

  “And it’s a bad one,” she tells me. “Alyssa, honey, please don’t do this. Don’t throw your life away. He’s not gonna stick around. I know you think he will, but he won’t.”

  I shake my head, meeting her gaze. “I think ‘congratulations’ is the word you’re looking for.”

  “No,” she disagrees. “My youngest daughter throwing her life away over some man is nothing to celebrate.”

  “Then don’t come to the wedding,” I tell her before leaving the room.

  “Alyssa,” she calls after me.

  I ignore her and head to the table to retrieve Brant. “Let’s go.”

  “You sure?” Brant asks, watching me as he stands.

  “Yep.”

  I don’t say another word to anyone. Brant mumbles something to someone, but I’m already out the door and I don’t care what he’s saying. I’m so angry at so many things I could cry, and that makes me even angrier.

  I was supposed to at least get some clothes to take back to Brant’s house so I’d have something to wear, but I don’t remember that until I’m already in the passenger seat of his truck.

  Brant looks in at me as he walks around to the driver’s seat. As he slides in, I tell him, “We need to stop at the store before we head home. I need to grab a few things.”

  Brant nods his head, sticking the key in the ignition and starting it up. “Sorry that didn’t go very well.”

  I shrug, but then I look over at him. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t have a problem with you trying to mind me most of the time, but don’t ever intervene and try to stop me from fighting with my mother again. I know you’re old-fashioned and you probably have some iron-clad ‘respect your parents’ rule you’d like everyone to live by, but my relationship with my mother is not your business and nobody, not even you, will tell me how to talk to her.”

  My heart pounds as I say all that. I mean every word, but I expect it to offend him, so I’m surprised when his lips tug up in reluctant amusement.

  “If I’m gonna be your husband, I disagree that it’
s not my business. Anything that affects you is my business, your relationship with your mother included. That being said, you misunderstood my reason for intervening. It had nothing to do with reprimanding you, I just saw that it wasn’t going anywhere good and I didn’t see the point in letting her rile you up. Obviously, I already knew about Dirk, and just as obviously, she was hoping I didn’t so she could get you in trouble. I realized at that point we needed to wrap things up and get out of there to save you some frustration. Didn’t have a damn thing to do with defending her.”

  With every word, he melts a little more of my righteous anger, and by the end, I just feel like curling up against him, wrapping my arms around his body, and melting into him.

  I could apologize for blaming him for something he didn’t do. I could thank him for already delivering on his promise that I’ll never have to face anything alone again. All I feel like doing is holding him, though, so I scoot across the seat and snuggle up against his side. He winds an arm around my back and absently runs his thumb back and forth across my skin.

  “You sure we need to stop at the store?”

  I’d rather cuddle up in bed with him, so I tip my head back and say, “I was gonna pick up a spare outfit, but I suppose I could just be naked instead.”

  With a perfunctory nod, Brant says, “That sounds like a suitable alternative to me. Home it is.”

  19

  Brant

  Since breaking the good news to Alyssa’s family didn’t go so well, I put off telling my own until I can’t anymore. Bri eventually gave up after a few days of unanswered and unreturned phone calls. I expect she thinks I’ve killed Alyssa by now and she’s pretty mad at me, so she doesn’t call anymore.

  It’s Fourth of July weekend, though, and she had already invited me and our other sister to come over for a cookout. I go every year. Sometimes she takes advantage of the forced socialization and tries to set me up with women she says she thinks I’ll like. I’m not sure what she thinks I’ll like about ’em, though. Her only qualifying characteristic seems to be “female” because no two have ever been alike, and not one of them has ever been anything like my type.