by Alex Grayson
Lifting my eyes, I acknowledge the man who’s been silently standing behind my mother this entire time. I can tell by the hard clench of his jaw that he wants to say something about my attitude toward my mother. He’s either playing it smart by keeping his mouth shut because he’s afraid, or he’s keeping quiet out of respect for my mother.
I take a closer look at him and realize he looks familiar. It only takes me a moment longer to recognize who he is. It’s uncanny how much he and my father look alike.
My eyes shoot down to my mother. “You actually brought him here?” I growl.
She lifts her chin and straightens her shoulders. She gives me the look I’ve seen her give my father. The one where she curls her lip up in disgust.
“I wanted to see you,” she says angrily. “Believe it or not, I do love you, Oliver. Benjamin,” she reaches back for his hand, “wanted to come and meet you since he’s never met his nephew before.”
I have a death grip on the doorknob. “Great,” I say dryly. “He’s met me. Now both of you can leave.”
“Can you stop being a brat and show a shred of respect?”
My eyes fall to her. “You lost my respect when you up and moved over halfway across the United States without telling me. You lost it when you cheated on my father—not just once, but twice—and lied and told me it was him who cheated so I would hate him and not you. And you damn sure lost it when I realized all the times you manipulated me into thinking all of your and my father’s problems were him.”
I’m just about to slam the door in their faces when there’s a tap on my shoulder. In my heated anger at seeing my mother and her new lover, I forgot Savannah was right behind me.
I turn so I’m facing the door jam, still keeping my mother and Benjamin in my sights.
“I’m gonna go,” she says quietly, briefly flicking her eyes to my mother. “To give you guys some privacy.”
Gripping her hand, I tug her to my side. “There’s no need. They were just leaving.”
“Hi,” my mother says, shoving her hand in front of me for Savannah to shake. I barely restrain the urge to slap it away. “I’m Maria, Oliver’s mother. And who might you be?”
Savannah hesitates, glancing up at me. She knows my issues with the woman who gave birth to me. If not for me telling her before, she damn sure heard me a moment ago. But Savannah, being the good person she is, won’t snub her like I’d prefer she would. After a moment, she clasps her hand with my mother’s.
“I’m Savannah.”
“Savannah. Such a pretty name.”
I roll my eyes.
“Thank you,” Savannah responds.
“And this is Benjamin.” She gestures to the still silent man. “He’s Oliver’s uncle.”
“And my mother’s fuck toy,” I mutter darkly.
“That’s it, young man,” Benjamin growls, releasing my mother’s hand and stepping forward. “I’ve heard enough of you disrespecting your mother.”
Pushing Savannah behind me, I turn to face him fully. White hot anger has my hands clenching into fists. “Back the hell up, old man. I don’t give two fucks that you’re my father’s brother. I won’t hesitate to lay your ass out.”
Savannah grabs the back of my shirt and my mother puts her hand on Benjamin’s chest, pushing him backward.
“There’s no need for violence?” She steps in front of my uncle and turns back to me. “Oliver, please. I came all this way to see you. Can you at least give me a few minutes of your time?”
As much as I want to tell her to fuck off, I know she won’t give in until she gets what she wants. I get my stubbornness from both of my parents.
“Fine,” I grit out. “Give me a minute.”
I slam the door, not waiting on her reply, and turn to Savannah.
I press a kiss against her lips. “Aren’t you glad we decided to stay here last night?”
She wrinkles her nose and smiles, the look scrunching up her face adorably.
“We definitely could have done without that kind of wake-up call.” She cups my cheek. “I know you’re angry with her and you have every right to be, but I think it’s good you’re letting her in to talk.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
Turning away from her, I grab a clean shirt and slip it over my head, feeling Savannah’s eyes on me. I’m sure I look like I’m on the verge of strangling someone. I damn sure feel like it. I’ve always had a hot temper, and I hold grudges longer than most people. My reaction to my mother’s actions may appear extreme to a lot of people. But I’m fed up with everything. Her actions have not only affected me and my father, but it’s because of her cheating and lying that I did what I did to Rylee and Zayden last year. Had she not lied and told me my father was having an affair, I wouldn’t have blamed him and Evelyn for everything, and by extension, Rylee.
“Do you want me to leave?”
I turn at Savannah’s question and walk to her. Looping my arms around her back, I pull her toward me until she’s against my chest.
“Do you want to leave?” I ask. “I really wouldn’t blame you. It’s about to be a shit show in here.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I asked. Do you want me to leave?”
I drop my forehead to hers. “Not really. You’ll be the only good thing in the room once they come in.”
“Okay.” She smiles. “I’ll stay.”
I press a kiss to her lips, lingering longer than I should, and my mood lightens. Savannah does that for me. Even back when we were spewing hate at each other, she always managed to make me forget all the bad things in my life.
All too soon, I pull back. “Once I get rid of them, I’m taking you back to your place and your bigger bed. I plan to spend the next few hours getting lost in your delectable body.”
Grinning, she gets to her tippy toes and gives me a peck on the lips. “I can’t wait.”
My good mood plummets when I let her go and walk back to the door. Pulling it open, I scowl when I find my uncle with his arm wrapped around my mother’s waist, her hand laying on his chest. Without a word, I turn on my heel, leaving it up to them to follow.
Savannah’s sitting on the bed, so I go sit beside her. I don’t fully understand why, but when she grabs my hand in hers, some of my anger melts away. I give her hand a squeeze.
My mother walks into my room and Benjamin follows. She takes a moment to look around. I bet it’s eating her alive to see my room in such disarray. She was always such a neat freak, insisting on everything having a place and every surface being dusted daily. Of course, she never lifted a hand herself in keeping the house clean. It was the household staff who did that.
Spotting my desk chair, Benjamin grabs it and gestures for my mother to sit. She does so primly before settling her eyes on me. Benjamin stands behind her, his arms crossed over his chest like some protective asshole or something.
“How have you been?” she asks quietly, breaking the silence in the room.
I keep my answer short. “Fine.”
“Are you enjoying college?”
“It’s college. Who really enjoys it?”
She blows out a breath, and her eyes roll to the ceiling before coming back to me. “I’m really trying here, Oliver. Can you make it a little easier on me?”
I bite my tongue, holding back a nasty retort. If it was just the three of us, I wouldn’t, but Savannah’s already seen and heard enough of my family’s drama, so I’m trying to keep it as civil as possible.
I unclench my teeth. “It’s been fine. Grades are good.”
She nods. “That’s good.” She takes her purse from her shoulder and props it upright on her lap. “You’re still planning to apply to Harvard, right?”
“I’m not going to law school.”
“What? Why on earth not?”
“Because I’ve got no desire to be a lawyer like my father.”
“That’s been your plan for years. You’ll make a good lawyer someday.”
“No. That’s nev
er been my plan. It was yours and my father’s. I just went along with it to keep the peace.”
“This is stupid, Oliver,” she objects. “Being a lawyer will ensure you have a fruitful life. Why in heavens would you give it up?”
“Fruitful life?” I laugh derisively. “You mean money. Not everything is about money. Maybe I want to do something that’ll bring me happiness.”
“Money brings happiness,” she retorts.
“No. It brings greed. It causes hatred.”
My anger mounts. Feeling the tension radiating off me, Savannah presses her shoulder against my side and tightens her grip on my hand. I blow out a breath and let it out slowly.
“Not everything is about money, Mother.” My eyes lift to Benjamin before dropping back to her. “My father had a shit ton of it, but it obviously wasn’t enough for you.”
She’s quiet for a moment, but I see the wheels turning in her head. The subject is a dead one for me, and she must know it, because she doesn’t say anything else on the matter.
Benjamin changes the subject. “Your mother and I were wondering if you’d come for a visit in Tennessee this summer.”
My eyes bounce in disbelief between his and my mother’s. “You’re serious?”
“We’d both love to have you,” he replies.
“How fucking stupid do you think I am to want to spend even a second longer than I have to in your presence?”
His eyes turn hard. “There’s no need to be a shit about it. While I don’t like it, I get your aversion to me, but Maria is your mother.”
“And a shit one at that.”
“Oliver Conley!” my mother shouts, getting to her feet. “I’ve heard about enough.”
“I haven’t even gotten started.” I get up and walk toward the door. “I’m done here. I suggest you both leave if you don’t want to hear more.”
I glare at both of them and they glare right back. Benjamin grabs my mother’s hand and pulls her behind him.
“Let’s go, Maria. This was a waste of time.”
She trudges behind him but stops in the doorway where I’m standing. “I would really love it if you could come for a visit this summer. There’s something important I need to speak with you about.”
I ignore her suggestion. She’s ludicrous if she thinks I’d visit her while she’s with my uncle.
“You may be my mother, and I still love you. But I can’t stand to look at you any longer. When the time comes that I can, I’ll call you.”
This woman has no idea how much she’s hurt me with her lies and deceit, but from the look on her face right now, she might have an inkling.
After another long look at me, she turns and walks away.
Instead of slamming the door behind them, I close it quietly.
22
SAVANNAH
“Well that was… interesting.” I swallow hard, watching Oliver stalk back across the room toward me.
Last night when I agreed to stay the night at his dorm, I might have reconsidered had I known what we would be waking up to. Not exactly the way I had envisioned meeting his mom for the first time.
“Yeah, interesting,” he grunts, dropping back down beside me on the bed. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I don’t know what the hell she was thinking showing up here—and to bring him of all people.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me. I’m just sorry that you have to deal with any of this at all. I can’t imagine how I would feel if my mom cheated on my dad. Especially if she did it with a relative or close family friend. That just adds a whole other level to the betrayal.”
“Yeah.” He blows out a heavy breath. “You know, the fucked-up thing is, if she had just been honest with me, it would be different. I would have been mad, sure. But I would have gotten over it. But for her to play the victim, to make me believe for years that my father was the villain. She deepened the wedge between the two of us and for that, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her. My father is no saint, and while somedays I’d like to throat punch the condescending asshole, he’s still my father. And then there’s Evelyn and Rylee. Fuck.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. “I was so fucking awful to both of them because I believed my mother when she said it was my father who ruined their marriage. Not that it excuses my behavior toward them, because it doesn’t, but knowing I could have saved myself and everyone else around me a lot of fucking hurt had she just been fucking honest….”
“Hey.” I reach over and snag his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “What’s done is done. You can’t change the past. But you can learn and grow from it. You’re not doing yourself or anyone else any good by beating yourself up over the way you acted. I’ll be the first to say that your actions were despicable.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” His eyes slide to mine.
“You know it’s not in my nature to sugar coat things. But your past actions don’t make you irredeemable either. But Oliver.” I knead my bottom lip between my teeth nervously. “The way you treated your mom just now…. I get that you’re angry, but the damage is already done. And she’s your mom. You can’t stay mad at her forever. She made mistakes, just like you did. Are you really going to make her continue to pay for them?”
“Fuck yes, I am. She deserves to sweat it out for a while. After all the lies and deceit, she deserves a hell of a lot more than me giving her some attitude.”
“That wasn’t just attitude,” I argue, hoping I’m not overstepping. “I don’t think I could ever speak to my mom the way you spoke to yours. No matter what she had done.”
“Well, that’s the difference between you and me.” He tugs his hand away and pushes to a stand. “Besides, you have no fucking clue how you would handle this situation because you have good parents.”
“You’re right. I can’t say for sure how I would react because I’ve never dealt with anything even close to this before.”
“No, you haven’t. And I really don’t need you judging me right now or making me feel guilty for how I behaved.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” I stand, stepping up directly in front of him. “I’m just trying to give you an outsider’s perspective.”
I can tell he’s trying really hard not to let his irritation get the better of him, and for a moment I wonder if maybe I’m out of line by even commenting on what transpired between him and his mom.
“Look at me.” I grab his chin, forcing his gaze down to mine. “I am on your side. Do you hear me? But Oliver, where would you be if everyone chose not to forgive you for the mistakes you’ve made?” I let him ponder that for a moment. “I get that you’re angry. Trust me, I do. And I understand why. But what good is holding onto all this anger really doing? I’m not saying forgive and forget. But treating your mom like she’s dirt on the bottom of your shoe? I don’t get how that’s going to accomplish anything. You don’t want to see her, fine. You don’t want to talk to her, that’s okay too. But she’s still your mom. Don’t you think she maybe deserves just a little respect?”
“Respect?” He draws back like my words have physically assaulted him. “She deserves shit because she is shit.”
“Oliver.”
“No. Fuck that. I shouldn’t have to treat her like she’s fragile china because she’s my mother. She fucked up, and I’m allowed to be pissed about it. And I’m allowed to let her know that I’m pissed about it.”
“You are,” I agree. “But there are better ways of going about it.”
“You know what? Fuck this.” He takes a full step back. “Maybe you should leave too.” His nostrils flare.
“Oliver. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about anything. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t speak up and say something when I feel like your behavior resembles that of a spoiled child.”
“A spoiled child?” He laughs, the sound riddled with anger. “A spoiled child.” His heated gaze meets mine.
I know immediately that I’ve gone too far,
and as much as I wish I could take it back, I can’t. I didn’t mean for this to take the turn that it has. My intentions were good, but now I can see that I should have kept my mouth shut.
“I’m sorry. Look,” I blow out a slow, controlled breath, “I get that you’re angry. And you know what, you have a right to deal with that anger anyway you see fit. It’s not my place to tell you how you should feel or how you should act. I guess I’m just not used to seeing someone talk to their mom that way. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me a little.”
“You have to understand that not all relationships are like the one you have with your parents. Not all moms are like your mom. Being a mom doesn’t automatically make someone a good person.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because from where I’m standing it sounds to me like you feel like I should put on a happy face and pretend like everything is okay. That’s not me, Savannah. That will never be me. And if you can’t accept that I am who I am and that I’m going to lash the fuck out when I’m pissed—no matter who you are—then you might as well walk away now, because this is me.”
“You’re so convinced that everyone is against you that you can’t even see when someone is trying to help you.”
“Help me? How is you siding with my lying, whore of a mother helping me?”
“I’m not siding with her. I’m trying to make you see that the way you treat her is directly affecting you. This isn’t about her, Oliver. It’s about you. It’s about this anger that you’re carrying around. It’s about how the mere mention of your mom sends you into an absolute rage. It’s about the guilt I see in your eyes, because even after everything she’s done, you still feel guilty for being angry with her. That isn’t good for you. It’s not good for anyone.”
“So what? You’re telling me I should go easy on her for my sake?” He snorts.
