Fight For You

by Adriana Hunter

  Liam kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

  “Alright.” She climbed into the back of the car. Liam closed the door and the car pulled away from the curb. This time when she looked back, Liam was standing on the sidewalk, watching the car drive away. She saw him raise a hand before losing sight of him in the bright morning sunlight.

  * * *

  The doorman gave her his usual obsequious greeting. She took the elevator to the apartment, then climbed the stairs to her room. There was a note on her bed from her mother. Adam called…see me when you get in.

  “Great.” She crumped the note, tossing it in the wastepaper basket by her desk. She dropped her purse on the desk, plugged in her cell phone and stripped out of her dress. There were so many things she should be doing but she was tired, the late night and early morning was not something she was used to. Then she thought about Liam, what his day was going to be like and she changed her mind.

  Instead of climbing back into bed, she pulled on her old sweatpants and a Columbia t-shirt, heading downstairs for breakfast. Sophie was in the kitchen, singing to herself, something simple, but in Russian.

  “Oh, Miss Angela. Your mother has been looking for you. There was a phone call for you, more than one I think. From that nice young man.” Sophie was beaming; Adam was a particular favorite of hers.

  Angela sat down at the kitchen counter. “I know, I saw her note.”

  “Would you like some breakfast? I can make you eggs or pancakes, maybe?”

  “I’ll have toast and tea, please.”

  Sophie bustled about the kitchen, setting the teakettle on the stove, taking out the bread.

  “You know, your mother was not happy to find you gone again last night, especially so soon after dinner.” Sophie shook her head.

  “There was some place I had to be. I wasn’t trying to upset her but that always seems to happen, anyway.”

  Sophie set the tea and toast in front of Angela, nodding. “She was not happy.”

  “Yes, I heard you, Sophie.” Angela caught the hurt look on Sophie’s face.

  “I’m sorry. I’m tired… and you know Mom. Anything and everything seems to upset her these days.” she sighed. “Is she home?”

  “Yes, she’s in her office.” Sophie left the kitchen without saying another word. Angela heard her moving about in the laundry room, but there was no more singing.

  Angela chewed on her toast, thinking over her night with Liam. She was confused, scared, maybe…but not as much as he was. There were so many things in his life that had gone wrong, things for which she had no frame of reference. No one had ever even spanked her, even when she’d colored her mother’s best silk dress with markers, wanting to fill in the white squares on what she realized now must have been a several thousand dollar designer original.

  “Angela! Where have you been? And why are you dressed like a street person? You know I hate those baggy sweatpants. Your hair…” Angela felt her mother tugging at the clip that held her hair back.

  “It’s wet and you smell…like....”

  “Mom, I’m fine. Really. I was out…for heaven’s sake. It’s not the end of the world.” Angela could hear the edge to her voice, the rising frustration and today, anger. And for once, she didn’t care.

  Her mother sat down next to Angela. “I’m worried about you. You’ve been gone…overnight…for the past two nights, you wanted to miss dinner with your boyfriend and now you’re disrespectful.”

  “Mother! Adam is not my boyfriend. How many times do I have to tell you that? We broke up weeks ago. I dumped him, if you want to know.”

  “Angela, there’s no need to get hysterical.”

  Angela turned to her mother. “I’m not hysterical! All I want is to be treated like an adult, not a child. I want a life that’s not controlled by you, all the time. I’m an adult…I want to be treated like one.”

  “Well, I see there’s no talking to you today.” Her mother gracefully slid off the barstool, her heels clicking across the parquet floor.

  “I’ll be in my office if you feel like having a civilized conversation.” And with that, she was gone.

  Angela slumped over the counter with her head in her hand. Why does everything have to be a battle with her?

  She finished her tea, setting the dishes in the sink. No one else was around so she headed back to her room. Maybe a short nap would help her think.

  As she climbed the stairs, she heard the chirp of her cell phone. She took the rest of the stairs two at time. Maybe it’s Liam.

  “Hello?” Her voice was breathless.

  “Hi, Angela.” It was Rachel.

  “Hi, Rach.”

  “Listen, I wanted to apologize for the other day. I was out of line…about Liam. I mean, if you like him, then that’s all that matters. I just…well, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too, Rachel. I was tired…”

  “Okay. So we’re good then?” Rachel cut her off, apparently anxious to say something.

  “Yeah. We’re good.”

  “Great. Because we’re having a party tonight at Mark’s and I want you to come. You can bring Liam, if you like.” There was a sly note to Rachel’s voice, almost a challenge.

  “Um…I’m not sure if he’s free. I don’t know….” Angela hesitated.

  “Come on. It’s Friday, come have some fun. You can have fun with your new boy-toy, can’t you? Or do you need his permission?”

  Angela sighed. “Rachel…”

  “Okay. Sorry. But come out. You really haven’t been out since you broke up with Adam. We never saw you when you were together and I don’t want that to happen all over again. You need to get back out here with all your friends, you know? We miss hanging with you. Please…”

  Angela felt herself cave. Rachel, in this mode, was almost impossible to derail. Over Rachel’s squeals of approval, she finally got the address of the house party.

  It was late afternoon when Liam called. Angela had been curled up on her bed with a steamy romance novel. She fumbled for the phone among the blankets, the book tumbling to the floor.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, you. How are ya?”

  “Liam. I’m good.” She sat up against the head of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. “Did you have a good day at the gym? Is that the right way to say that?”

  Liam’s laughter made her smile. “Yeah, pretty good. Listen, I’m going to be done here soon. Did you want catch an early dinner, maybe a movie?”

  Angela could hear the anticipation in Liam’s voice, anticipation that matched her own. Her earlier trepidation that something was wrong faded away. Just me overthinking things.

  “Well, I have an idea. One of my friends is having a party, nothing fancy, just a house party. I’d like to go…I’d like you to come with me. Will you?”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Angela listened to the sounds of the gym, less foreign to her ears this time, but no less aggressive and primal.

  “Okay. Sure. Where should I meet you?” Liam’s voice was distant; Angela couldn’t tell if it was the phone connection or Liam.

  “I can send a car for you and we can....”

  He cut her off abruptly.

  “Yeah, no…I can get to your house myself. Just give me the address.”

  Angela gave him the address to the property on Central Park West and the time to be there. After she hung up, she wondered if she’d said something wrong. Liam had been so abrupt with her, almost angry. She tried not to worry, but the nagging thought kept tugging at her mind, and when she picked up her book, it made it hard for her to concentrate.

  The grandfather clock in the hall chimed the hour softly. Knowing her mother wouldn’t approve of what she was wearing at the dinner table, Angela changed into a pair of clean jeans and dressier shirt. She brushed out her hair, added a touch of make-up, simple jewelry and headed downstairs, dropping her purse on the foyer table. She was dressed for dinner and for her date.

/>   Her father was in the study, sitting on the loveseat, a drink in his hand, reading the Times.

  “Dad! You’re home for dinner.” Angela crossed the room, dropping down beside her father. He pulled her against him, kissing the top of her head.

  “Hello, Angel. How have you been? It seems we’re like ships passing in the night…or is that the wrong idiom? I guess it’s more like we’re just busy. What have you been up to lately? Or is that your old man prying into your life?”

  “Yeah, we’re always so busy…or, I should say you are. I never see you. And no, you’re not prying. I just…well, since Adam…I’ve been…” She struggled to put her thoughts into words.

  “When he and I dated, we were always together, and Rachel and Laura seem to think now that we’re not together, I should be out with them. I think they miss me, is all.” She stared out the window, looking down on the green expanse of Central Park.

  “Adam was a bit controlling, wasn’t he?” Her father’s voice was low.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I guess he was.” They were quiet for a moment. She could hear the rustle of the newspaper as her father folded it, the sound of the ice clinking in his glass. Such urbane sounds, quiet, familiar.

  “Dad, have you ever hit someone? When you were younger? Like in a fight?” She turned to him, a faint frown creasing her forehead.

  “Why would you ask that? No, I’ve never hit anyone. Did something happen?” She could hear the concern in his voice.

  “No, well…yes. The other night, when I was out…overnight. It wasn’t with Rachel and Laura, or I…didn’t stay overnight with them. I met…this guy.” She could feel a blush creeping up her face. This was uncharted territory; she’d never really discussed the guys she’d dated with her father in any great detail.

  “We’d ended up in the Bronx and some guys were bothering us. Liam…” she said his name shyly. “…came along and…beat them up, I guess. Or, he really didn’t hit them that many times, but he broke one guy’s nose and made the other…um, throw up. And then they ran off. We… Liam and us, the girls, I mean…went to have a drink and…well…”

  Her father was looking at her with a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Angela. Why on earth would you have been in the Bronx? What have you been doing lately? Your mother is worried your being disrespectful is a sign of something deeper. I told her you were just…but this? Are you in any kind of trouble, Angela? Do you think it’s…”

  “No, no Dad. We got lost and Liam came along and helped us, that’s all. It’s not like he had any other choice. And he’s trained as a fighter. I mean, professionally. He’s not just some guy who beats people up for fun.” It occurred to Angela her father may not be the most objective person to be having this conversation with, but it seemed important now that she make him see Liam in the best light possible.

  “So you felt compelled to spend the night…out of gratitude?” Her father took a long swallow of his drink. He shook his head.

  “Angela, you’re an adult and I can’t dictate how you live your life. But I think you need to think about the choices you’re making lately.”

  “I can take care of myself.” She stood, heading out of the study, almost running into her mother as she came into the room.

  “I heard raised voices. What’s going on?” She gave her husband a chilly look, casting a glance over Angela.

  “Nothing, Celeste. Just a little discussion with Angela. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Well…it’s time to go in for dinner.” She turned toward the dining room. Angela’s father rose, waiting for her. Angela sighed, heading down the hall, sandwiched between her mother and father.

  Dinner seemed to drag forever. Angela kept glancing at the dining room clock; Liam was supposed to be there any minute.

  When it rang, the buzzer made her jump. “I’ll get it…”

  Her mother looked up at her. “Sophie will get it. You finish dinner. You’ve barely touched your plate.”

  “But…” Angela sank back into her chair.

  Sophie entered the room a few minutes later.

  “The doorman says there’s a Liam downstairs, for Miss Angela.”

  Angela jumped up from the table, dropping her napkin on her plate. “I have a…date with him. I’ll be back…”

  Her mother held up her hand. “Sophie, have him sent up, please. Angela, I think we should meet whomever you’re having this ‘date’ with, don’t you?”

  Angela heard Sophie answer the door, Liam’s deep voice a strangely foreign sound in the apartment. But a sound that sent a thrill through her nonetheless.

  Angela managed to get down the hall ahead of her mother. Liam was standing in the foyer, looking uncomfortably around the marble and glass room. He caught sight of Angela, his face brightening. She tried to conceal a gasp; Liam’s left eye was swollen and purple.

  “Hey, Angela. You ready to go?” He looked past her and a shadow passed across his face. Angela turned, catching sight of her mother, followed by her father.

  “Liam.” She reached for his hand. “Mom, Dad, this is Liam Cross. Liam, my mother, Celeste and my father Charles.”

  Her mother extended a stiff hand toward Liam, her eyes focused on Liam’s black eye. Liam shook it, her mother dropping Liam’s hand almost instantly.

  “So, I hear you’re responsible for helping my daughter out the other evening.”

  Her father’s voice sounded strained, as he were trying for a light tone, but completely failing. She saw her mother turn, shooting a withering look at her dad.

  “Yeah, it’s all good, Dad.” She put her arm through Liam’s, grabbing her purse from the table.

  “I’m ready. We can go.” She practically pushed Liam out the door ahead of her.

  “What was that all about?” Liam was frowning at her as she pushed the button for the elevator.

  “They’ve been giving me a hard time over being out, not calling Adam…” She stole a glance at Liam, noting the scowl on his face.

  “And they’re not really…ready…” Her voice faded away. What do I really want to tell him?

  “They’re not ready for me?” He cast her a sidelong long, shrugging. “I get it.”

  The elevator arrived, the doors sliding open silently. Angela pushed the button for the lobby.

  “What happened to your face?” She was trying not to stare.

  “Oh…” He gingerly touched the corner of his eye. “I took a head to the face. Happens sometimes.”

  They were silent on the way down to the lobby, Angela fidgeting with her purse.

  “Look, I know this isn’t going to be easy, by any means.” Liam was looking at the floor lights, watching them light up as the car descended.

  “I’m not easy…I guess.” He turned to her, his eyes dark.

  “If you want out of this, I understand.”

  Angela frowned at him. “What do you mean? You mean not go to the party? Or do you mean you?”

  “Me…this.” He spread his hands. “Nothing is easy with me. I think you’ve already figured that out.”

  The elevator door opened onto the lobby. The doorman looked up, catching her eye. She nodded out of habit.

  “Peter, can you call me a car please? Thank you.”

  She turned back to Liam. “I have no intention of not doing whatever this is we’re doing…or backing out on whatever this is we have. Why would you think that? Because my parents are difficult?”

  Liam shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the usual type of guy you bring home to Mommy and Daddy.”

  “No, you’re right… you’re not. And right now, I don’t care what my parents think.”

  Liam looked at her, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Really? You cared the other night…enough to break our date.”

  Angela sighed. “Yeah. And that was wrong. And I apologized. You were right; I am old enough to make my own decisions… and from now on, I’m going to.”

  She took a step toward him, poking him in the chest wit
h her finger. “You know, you’re not the only one with issues, okay? I may not have your family history, but I have my own. My life’s not perfect.”

  Liam pulling her into his arms. “Yeah. Okay. I get it.” He kissed her but she pulled away.

  “Liam.” Angela’s voice was serious. “I’m not going anywhere. I know you think I’m going to run away because of…well, whatever makes you think I’ll run away. But I’m not going anywhere.”

  She kissed him gently. “But the eye…it looks painful.”

  “Ahh, it’s nothing. I’ve had worse injuries. It heals. The harder I train, the more this happens. You’ll either get used to it or…”

  There was a discreet cough behind Angela. “Miss Reynolds, your car is here.”

  “Thank you, Peter.”

  The driver was holding the door open for them and Angela slid in, Liam behind her, shifting uncomfortably on the leather seat. Angela leaned forward, giving the driver the address.

  “What does your father do that he warrants a standing account with a limo service?” Liam was looking around the interior of the car as it pulled away from the curb.

  “He owns things…restaurants, a race horse, buildings…and then he finds people to run them or lease them or race them and makes money. Although I don’t think the horse does all that well; racing is more of a sentimental thing, I guess. My dad grew up in a little town in Upstate New York. He worked summers at a stable and I guess he fell in love with horses.

  “He’s a self-made man. His family was well off, something to do with furniture, but he wanted more. As he said, there was no way he was going to sell dinette sets for the rest of his life. So he did whatever it is he does and…”

  Angela turned to Liam. “You’re very quiet. Are you tired from the gym?” She wound her arm through his and he took her hand, idly playing with her fingers.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’m a little on edge…sometimes I get keyed up after a tough practice. It’s an odd feeling; too tired to sleep, too much energy.” He shook his head.

  “I’m fine. So, whose party is this?”

  “Rachel’s boyfriend…or friend…something… Mark. You met Rachel the other night.”