“I was. I needed to help out my family in Norway.” And Nathan, to act as if nothing in the world ever bothers him. He mixes his scrambled eggs and grits together, upholding Mom’s conversation with ease.
“You are very family oriented,” Mom observes.
“Yes ma’am, I try to be.”
I eat as they chat; glad none of the conversation is directed toward me. I’m so embarrassed I was caught in bed with my boyfriend my cheeks haven’t stopped burning. Though Mom doesn’t seem too upset, I’m sure she isn’t just sweeping this under the rug. She’s going to find the most awkward time to bring it back up. Thank goodness Dad’s not home yet. Speaking of, “When’s Dad supposed to make it in?”
Mom taps her phone, seeming to check the time. “He should be arriving within the next couple of hours. What time are we supposed to arrive at your house?” she asks, seeking an answer from Nathan.
“I’d say around five, giving Mr. Warren some time to get in and settled.”
She nods. “I must be honest with you two,” she starts after a long pause. “I never thought I would greet you coming down from Tracey’s bedroom.” She looks between us. “In the morning,” she adds. “Tracey doesn’t even like people in her bedroom,” she says to her plate.
“I’m sorry about that, Mom. Really. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“May I ask you a question and you be completely honest with me?” She looks back up, meeting my eyes. “How often or how many times has Nathan been in your bedroom?”
I wince from the lie gliding over my tongue, ready for me to let it slide past my lips. Biting it back, I battle trading it for the truth. She doesn’t deserve for me to lie to her. Placing her fork beside her plate, she leans back in her chair, waiting for my answer. Half-truth. “This wouldn’t be the first time.”
Nathan’s fork drops to his plate. He snatches it up, and I feel him peek at me as his breathing changes nervously.
Mom nods. “Do you care to share a number?”
Nope, nu-un. “Not. Really,” I drag, with a slow shrug and pinch to the left side of my nose.
“Tracey!” she exclaims in disbelief, seeming to know the answer.
“Mom!” I match her tone.
She leans forward, placing her elbows on the table. She never puts her elbows on the table.
Nathan sits back in the chair. I take a deep breath, readying myself.
Mom doesn’t begin instantly, her etched expression reflecting her disapproval for my action and half-truth. “How many times have you awakened in Nathan’s bed?”
Again, I wince, caught off guard by another question. I don’t want to answer it. But I’m an adult partaking in adult actions; I should be able to tell her the truth. I should be able to be honest with my mother who trusts me to make responsible decisions. I shift my gaze from my hands to her, meeting her impatient eyes. Their stingy gray enhances as her pupils draw in with her focusing in on me. They nearly cut me open as a hair falls from her perfectly laid ponytail.
A hair is definitely out of place with this one, I think to Nathan. Nervously sliding my fingers over my eyebrows, I admit, “Okay. A few.”
“A few?” she repeats derisively, folding her hands under her chin.
“Yes.”
Removing her elbows from the table, they settle in her lap as she straightens her spine. “Do your parents know about this?”
I suppose Nathan must find it, somewhat, an insult when my parents look upon him as a child, and he’s older than they are. He’s never said that, but I know I hate it when they do it to me. Even them knowing he’s in his twenties, they always bring up his mom being approving of one thing or another.
Nathan nods, answering, “Yes.”
“Tracey!” Mom yelps my name as if I’ve just robbed a bank, got away scot free, and came over to break the news to her.
I hurry to say, “Okay, Mom. I know this was something you weren’t expecting and I may have let you down a bit. But we’re honest with you, and that has to count for something.”
She says nothing for a while, and her silence makes me nervous. “Okay, where are you two going with this relationship? Because this seems a little advanced . . . sleeping together?” she breathes in a higher pitch.
Looking to Nathan, he shakes his head, declining his help. These conversations are so foreign to me; everything I say I think is the wrong thing. “Past today,” I reply.
“That is not a sufficient answer, Tracey.”
“You’re right. But I don’t really know how to answer your question. Not to you.” I let the child in me show. I can tell someone else what this is between Nathan and me, but not to Mom. I don’t want her to think I’m full of it like Dad does. It’s easy to say I love him and we’re meant to be together by some higher power, which is why I don’t fight it; why I can’t fight it. It’s simple to release that truth, especially to someone from his world who understands mating, falling in love by a touch, and being bound. But trying to explain that to someone from the world I grew up. People frown upon things like love at first sight. I even frowned upon it. And nowadays, people don’t believe in eternal love. Or love period. So, to convince her that I’m permanently tied to the man of my dreams, just by him hitting me in my school’s parking lot, or bound by lewd acts that seal our love for an eternity, would be like singing to the deaf.
“Then pretend that I am not me,” Mom suggests. “Maybe, as if, I am Nathan’s mother asking, considering she knows more about this than I.” That’s easier said than done, but I know now this is more about me not telling her than it is about Nathan and I sleeping together—as she’d put it.
“Okay, Mom. Waving the white flag here.” I try my hand at a truth that’ll make sense to her. “I love him in a way that can’t be explained by the words I love you, or I want you. My heart beats for Nathan in a way you’ll never believe or understand. With that being said, as he and I take this a day at a time and grow in and with one another, we guide time and reveal to it where we go. Now, we battle a grudging coming of age, years from now, we’ll marry, years from that, we’ll have a family, and if the same fate that brought us together decides to allow us the blessing of seeing old age, we’ll die together. Time just happens to be flying faster within us than around us.”
“That was more than I expected from you, Tracey. You’ve been so quiet about your relationship. The three of us may spend time together, but you two never reflect your intimacy, and for that, I’m grateful. I only mean to imply, you’ve only mentioned it once and demanded your father and I leave the subject alone.” Her studious gaze flicks to Nathan, requesting his input. They chat a lot too, but also, not about us.
He clears his throat. “We are serious, Mrs. Warren. And she’s right; we aren’t temporary. Yes, I agree with you. Our sleeping together is advanced. And yes, my mother is aware of this, of us and our actions. We’ve spoken with her about her feelings on it, and she’s provided us with her thoughts and her blessing. It would have been appropriate for me to have the same conversation with you. And for my lack of forethought, you have my apologies.” He pauses. “However, I’m here for the long haul, and I want to be with your daughter, of course with you and your husband’s consent. I’ll give no reason to doubt our relationship and it’s lasting because I have no greater desire than to care for and love your daughter. Excuse my disrespect and causing you to question me and my intentions with her.”
Mom picks up her glass of orange juice with one hand and pushes back the hair that’s fallen from her ponytail with the other. After taking a drink, she asks, “I’d like to speak with your mother.”
“Of course. Talk to her tonight. She’d be happy to exchange words. She’s been waiting to meet you knowing Tracey’s a part of our family.”
That had to have slipped.
“Excuse me?” Mom states, surprised by his statement.
I can read the shit on Nathan’s face as he rubs his hand over his beard. Sometimes he’s a little too comfortable talking to mom. “I’m sorry. Aga
in, in my mother’s eyes, the girl who was finally able to win over her son, she’d make sure I do nothing to run her away and everything to make her comfortable. She’s adamant about Tracey and I staying together because of our talks and she knows the way I look at Tracey, what all she means to me.” He takes a moment. “She’s accepted her and looks upon her as a daughter.”
Okay, babe. Maybe you should put the brakes on it, I say to him.
It’s just coming out like water, Sparks. I tried biting my tongue four times, and it just keeps flowing out.
Well, stuff some eggs in it.
Mom nods. “And how do you feel about that, Tracey? Being already accepted into Nathan’s family, or looked upon as such?”
I’m trying to figure out why we’re still on the subject. Can’t we talk about the bacon or how good the orange juice is?
Becoming impatient, Mom taps her index finger on the table, causing the thump to pound against my eardrums. “I call her Mom . . . sometimes.” That should cover it and drop this subject.
Her thumping finger stops and her eyes spread wider than I’ve ever seen. They lower as she calms. “Why didn’t you come to me about this, Tracey? I thought we had a good relationship.”
“We do, Mom, we do. But considering I’ve introduced you to him and bring him around often. I figured it was self-explanatory. No disrespect. But this isn’t like me. You know that.”
“I do. But before you started sleeping in the same bed with a boy, I thought you would talk to me about it first. I don’t know. I guess I always assumed you discussed everything with me, regardless of the severity, harshness, or rareness of it.”
I feel bad, knowing I’ve let her down. “I’m sorry, Mommy. You and I have had a lot going on. But knowing our relationship and the amount of trust you have in me, I should’ve brought it to you instead of you catching me up in it.”
She nods. “At least you waited until you were eighteen to start these types of actions.” Yeah, something like that. “Just, be safe,” she utters awkwardly. “I understand you love and want to be with Nathan. I respect it.” Mom is a sucker for love. “You are on the verge of becoming an adult, old enough to make responsible decisions, and I don’t want to remove you from him. Nathan, I like you. You are a nice young man and I can see you genuinely care for Tracey.” She traces the rim of her glass with the pad of her middle finger as she leans back in her chair. There’s a soft whistle I doubt she can hear from her doing so. I guess she’s taking it all in. But by the twitch of her bottom lip, it doesn’t look like she’s finished. “Do not let me catch you two sleeping in the same bed together again. Not until you’re married, if that remains in your plans. And when you are here, Nathan, I would like to know about it. And please do not get pregnant. Your dad will kill all three of us.” I knew that was coming. And with her assumption the other day, I anticipated this being worse.
I get up to hug her, wrapping my arms around her chest as I stand behind her chair. “Thanks, Mom.” I appreciate her being accepting of my relationship. It’s not going to be this easy to convince Dad this evening.
She hugs my arms. “Right. You avoided my question before, but you two do not have . . . sex, do you?” she asks awkwardly.
And rightfully so, because I am not prepared to tell that truth. I’ve lied enough today, and we will not even begin to have that talk. “I think that’s enough Q and A for one morning, Mom.” I kiss her cheek and add, “We’re going to Nathan’s house to get everyone prepared for our family meet and greet tonight. We’ll come back so you and Dad can trail us over.”
“Slick way to get out of that, honey.”
Nathan stands from the table also ready to escape my mom, I assume.
“Aren’t you going to take a shower and change your clothes?” Mom asks, watching me pull Nathan with me from the dining room.
“No. I have clothes at Nathan’s house.” I stumble, tripping over my words. “Dammit,” I mutter under my breath.
“Excuse me, Tracey Warren?!”
Quickening my steps, I hurry us to the foyer, ready to fulfill my escape. We’re not going to get into another conversation. “I’ll explain later. See you in a bit. Thank you. Love you,” I say, closing the front door behind me. “Darn,” I whisper, slapping the door. I left the keys in the house, along with everything else.
“Looks like you have to go back in,” Nathan jests. “Can’t explain how we got to my house on foot.”
I throw my head back, looking at the perfect blue sky with not a cloud in sight. “Argh. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“And where am I going looking like this.” He looks down and wiggles his toes. “Considering, I don’t have on any shoes. Would you mind getting those too? For you and me,” he adds, pointing to my bare feet.
I press my toes onto the ground, feeling the warm concrete against them. My escape plan is a bust. We walk back in the house.
“Forgetting something?” Mom sings from the kitchen. “Make sure you stop by here before you go get your shoes.”
Darn! I walk to Mom in the kitchen washing the dishes. “Yes,” I sing innocently.
“Why do you have clothes at Nathan’s house?”
“In case I need to change while I’m there.” I shrug. “We’ve gone over me staying the night a few times. He got me some clothes to hang there just in case.”
“There are a lot of clothes there?”
“Not a lot,” I lie, regretting I did so, but I need to get out of this jam. I run upstairs to my room and grab our shoes, my phone, and the keys. Coming back down, I hear Mom and Nathan chatting it up in the foyer. Mom’s bugging him about why I have clothes at his house, and what drove him to crowd his closet with those for me.
“Tracey’s clothes were a surprise for her. She had little things, but I wanted to give her a variety.”
“She does have a lot of clothes over there,” she says conclusively.
“She does,” Nathan reveals, oblivious to the white lie I told not five minutes ago.
“And she—”
“Okay, I have everything.” I walk up, purposely interrupting them, handing Nathan his shoes. Bending over to put mine on, I feel Mom staring a blazing hole through my head. “Yes, Mom?”
“Tracey, you were serious about moving in with him?”
Where is she getting all these questions this early in the morning? Before I answer her, I finish tying both shoes. “Yes, Mom. But it won’t be today or tomorrow,” I say, straightening, and meeting her eyes. Giving her a confident look, I make it so my words and my feelings no longer have to be questioned. “I’m certain about this. About him.”
She flicks her inquisitive gaze over to Nathan. “And how do you feel about that?” She sounds like Dad. It’s obvious they’ve been around each other a long time.
“My family has accepted her and offered her the invitation. I move on Tracey’s accord. When she is ready, I’m ready.”
Mom looks off to her left, then right, and nods, saying, “Okay,” calm but apprehensively. “I guess I’ll see you two later. Reflect more on this conversation that we have had.” Her makeup free face is blank, but her analyzing eyes say it all. They show her mixed feelings about all this. “Tracey, your father is going to request some of your time, so I would set some aside for him.”
“Okay, Mother.”
“How did you two get here last night and what time did you come in?”
Crap! I quickly spew what comes across my head first. “We were dropped off around one something. We were safe. Promise.” I hug her, and we leave for my car, escaping twenty-one questions Mom.
“That was interesting,” Nathan jests once we’ve made it out of my neighborhood.
“I can only imagine how tonight’s going to go.” I’m not looking forward to it. And with how straightforward Dad is, there’s no telling how my night’s going to end. Mom’s going to tell him about how it started, and everything we talked about this morning. And our one-on-one has bad blood written all over it.
Dad, for some reason, just doesn’t like me being with Nathan. He was understanding at first, after we’d talked, then maybe a month after school restarted something changed.
“Everything’ll be fine, Sparks. Let’s just get to the house to make sure everyone’s alive and that it isn’t in shambles.”
“What?!” I blurt.
“That’s the shit that goes through my mind, believe it or not.”
I believe it.
Thank goodness the outside of the house looks fine. I can’t say much for the people on the inside. The second we turn the knob, a mob of Newcombs thrash into us like an angry wave, raining with questions.
“We went to Tracey’s house. We couldn’t sleep last night,” Nathan answers.
Olar steps to the front of the crowd. “We have something we need to attend to out back.”
Nathan nods. “Yeah, I know. Where’s everyone?”
“Roseland and Scott are waiting for us by the let out. You ready?”
“Yeah.” They head down the hall, and I swiftly follow. Nathan halts. “You may want to sit this one out, Sparks.”
“Why?”
“It’s going to get . . . umm, messy.”
“Real messy,” Olar adds with a smile bigger than his face.
I insist, “I’m coming.”
“Hey. I’m coming too.” Glen comes around a corner, bouncing as she trots to us.
“You are definitely not coming,” Nathan objects, adding emphasis on his not with the sweep of his hand.
“Why can she come and I can’t come?” she asks, pointing at me.
“Because, Tracey knows how to keep her mouth closed. You’ll be screaming and talking, causing a distraction,” Nathan retorts, trying to stick a fork in it.
“I will not,” she fires back, throwing her hands on her hips. Glen never gives in.
Throwing his hands up, Nathan grumbles, “Okay, we’ll see what Scott says. You sure you want to sit through this?” he asks, redirecting his attention to me.
“Yeah.” I’ve watched hearts being ripped out, nails dug into skulls, two friends fight each other to the death and not by their own will might I add, and I’ve taken a couple out myself. I’m sure I can handle a little blood.
Three Times Torn Page 13
