“I don’t know why the fuck you still live here?” She continued, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She took a long drag and continued, “Ain’t you eighteen now? I shouldn’t have to pay for your sorry ass.”
Anger simmered in my veins at that comment, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “For starters, I’m twenty-one, and mom,” I said in a condescending tone, “you haven’t paid for my ‘sorry ass’ in a long time. You don’t work, and he barely makes enough money to buy a loaf of bread. So, who’s money keeps this roof over your head?” I glared at her, hatred for the woman that birthed me ate up my insides. “Me,” I pointed at my chest, “I pay for this. All so you can blow your welfare check on booze and cigarettes. So don’t preach to me about values and certainly don’t call me a whore.” I let out a lengthy breath.
She shook with anger, her stringy blonde hair falling into her eyes. It looked like she hadn’t washed it in a week, which was probably the case. I knew I shouldn’t have spouted off the way I had. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
She let out a roaring scream and knocked her plate to the ground. The glass shattered and food splattered against the walls. “Do not talk me that way!” She screamed. “Don’t forget everything I’ve done for you!”
I swallowed thickly, anger rising inside me to match her. “What you’ve done for me?” I yelled back. I hated that the kids were seeing this, but I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. I’d retreated into the shadows, never saying anything, for all my life and finally something inside me had snapped. “What you’ve done for me is ruin my life! You’ve taken everything from me!”
“You’re nothing but an ungrateful bitch,” she spat, shoving the table. It toppled over and food went everywhere. Ivy and Tristan began to cry. I couldn’t do anything to comfort them right now. My mom stalked towards me, her hand raised to slap me. She didn’t though. “Thanks to me you have a life.”
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. What life I had thanks to you was destroyed a long time ago.” My voice wasn’t angry…mostly defeated sounding.
“You really hate me, don’t you, Rowan?” She stared up at me—I was at least a head taller than her.
“I suppose I loved you once, like all children love their parents, but I lost respect for you a long time ago. And after everything you’ve said and done to me…” I paused, lifting my shoulders in a small shrug, “I guess I do hate you. How could I not?”
Her lips twitched into a smile. A freakin’ smile. God, she was weird. “At least you own it.”
“I am what I am. I feel what I feel. There’s no sense in denying it,” I stated.
“You really are my daughter.” Her lips spread up into a wide smile, revealing her rotted teeth.
Hearing the word daughter come out of her mouth, repulsed me. I didn’t belong to her, and I didn’t like her staking claim to me. “I’m nothing to you.”
Something about those words made her snap. Her hand shot out, smacking sharply against my cheek, pivoting my head to the side.
I raised a shaking hand to my stinging cheek. Tristan and Ivy’s cries grew louder. “Try that again,” I warned through clenched teeth, “and you won’t like what happens. Me, them,” I nodded at the kids, “we’ll be gone and you’ll lose all this,” I spread my arms to encompass the house. “Don’t push me, mom.”
Her nostrils flared but resignation shone in her eyes. She knew that without me she’d have nothing. What she didn’t know was that I was nowhere close to being ready to leave. The rent for this place was hardly anything—seeing at it was a dump and all. I couldn’t afford a nice place yet and I knew legally I couldn’t take the kids. I’d end up arrested for attempted kidnapping. But she was dumb and didn’t know that. For now, threats were my only real weapon and I planned to use them to my full advantage.
Finally, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the room. The front door slammed closed behind her.
“Fuck,” Jim groaned, pulling at what little hair he had left. “Ronda!” He hopped up, running after my mom. I didn’t know he could move so fast. I guessed he knew he needed to do damage control for groping my ass.
I sighed, looking at the mess of food covering the floor, the walls, and the kids. This was not going to be fun to clean up.
I bent down on the floor to start the process of cleaning up, but didn’t get very far. Tristan launched himself into my arms and wrapped his around my neck. “You and mommy fighted. I don’t like it when you fight. She said bad words. I don’t like bad words,” he looked at me with wide innocent blue eyes. “She hit you. She not nice. I don’t like her. Why does she have to be my mommy? Why can’t you be my mommy, Row?” My eyes closed at his words, my throat clenching. His small hand gently rubbed my sore cheek. “Hold still. I kiss it and make it better.”
My stomach tightened painfully at Tristan’s words. I held him in my arms as his soft lips touched my cheek—trying to take away my pain. If only sweet little kisses could make everything better. The world would certainly be a vastly different place.
chapter seven
Hey.
I stared at the text message flashing on the screen of my phone. It was from a number I didn’t recognize and I wasn’t sure whether I should respond or not.
It’s Trent.The text came through a minute after the first.
How’d u get my #?I typed back. I knew I hadn’t given it to him and I was curious to know who had.
Ran into my new best friend, Jude. Cool dude. Glad I didn’t have to fight him for u. I would’ve though.
I rolled my eyes; slightly pissed that Jude had given Trent my number. Wasn’t that breaching some kind of friend code or something? I mean, I’d been asked by more than one of Jude’s conquests for his cellphone number and I never gave it away. I was nice like that. Apparently Jude didn’t return the same favor.
Don’t be macho.I typed back.U went through all this trouble to get my # so what do u want?
My phone began to buzz in my hand and I lifted it to my ear.
“I didn’t feel like typing on that ridiculous keyboard any longer. It changes everything I type, so then I have to double check it before I click send so I don’t say penis when I mean pens,” he rambled without a breath in-between.
“Do you text about pens a lot?”
“I like pens,” he stated, and I knew he was smiling that crooked grin that made my insides squirm. “Anyway, I didn’t call to discuss the merits of a good ball-point. I wanted to discuss our date…that’s supposed to happen in three hours…if you haven’t backed out on me,” his voice grew slightly sad sounding.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I mumbled, staring at the clothes strewn about my room. I had never cared how I dressed before. Even when we’d dated in high school, I hadn’t cared what Trenton thought of my clothes. Suddenly, though, I wanted to be worthy of being seen with him. Pathetic, I know. Over night I had turned into one of those girls. Irritated with myself I turned the phone on speaker and grabbed a pair of black leggings, shimmying into them.
“I’ll pick you up at one—”
“No,” I protested, clutching a loose teal sweater in my hands.
Trent huffed in exasperation. “I’ve been to your house before. I know the rules, stay in the car, and do not go inside. I’ll be a good boy.”
I swallowed thickly. “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly.
“I’ll see you then.” With that, the line went dead.
I flopped on my bed. Why the hell had I ever agreed to this? Stupid Trent and his annoying knack for being persistent. Why couldn’t he have left me alone? He knew even after all these years I still had feelings for him—it was pretty obvious in the way my body responded to him and the fact that I always ran away from him like a child with a schoolyard crush. I knew we would never make it as a couple though. We were too different and there was so much he didn’t know—that I couldn’t tell him. Keeping my distance had been the only way, but he had to constantly pop up, and chip away at the icy shield that blocked
my emotions. I knew this was bad, but I had agreed, and I couldn’t stop myself now. I wanted Trenton for as long as I could have him. Especially since no one else could ever replace him. Despite our differences, our connection was deep, it was the kind of connection most people never experienced. We understood each other better than anyone else did. Trenton had always been able to read my emotions when most couldn’t.
I covered my face with my hands and let out a quiet scream so I didn’t worry the kids. I had gotten myself into a sticky situation and there was no way out—not until the both of us shattered completely.
I forced myself off the bed and pulled on my sweater and boots. I picked up the mess of clothes strewn about my small room and returned them to where they belonged.
I dabbed on a bit of pink gloss and some mascara—it’s all I usually wore.
I opened my bedroom door and jumped back when I saw Tristan standing there, peering up at me with curiosity shimmering in his blue eyes. “You were in there for a loooooooong time. Who were you talking to?”
“I was getting dressed,” I told him, tugging on the bottom of my sweater, feeling like I was about to get in trouble for something—funny, considering he was five.
He tilted his small head, taking in my words. Finally he shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” At his age, he didn’t need more of an explanation, and he’d probably already forgotten that he’d heard me talking to someone.
“What do you want for lunch?” I asked him, closing my bedroom door behind me.
“Sammy!” He exclaimed excitedly, running towards the kitchen as fast as his feet could carry him.
“What kind of sandwich?” I asked when I reached the refrigerator. “Do you want a sandwich, Ivy?”
“Mhmm,” she responded from where she sat at the table drawing a picture. “Turkey, please.”
I set about making the sandwiches, and made one for myself as well. I didn’t want to assume Trent and I would be getting a late lunch, so it was better to eat. I sat down at the table with the kids. Tristan droned on and on about his toy cars and Ivy listened patiently to everything he had to say. I stared off into space, my eyes focusing on a stain on the wall I hadn’t been able to remove after yesterday’s disastrous Thanksgiving dinner. Jim had gone after my mom and hadn’t returned last night or this morning. My mom had come back, and she was currently passed out in her bedroom, a trashcan full of vomit beside her. I didn’t understand how someone wanted to live like that? I guessed that was the thing though, you weren’t really living.
The kids finished eating and I looked down to see that I’d only eaten half of my sandwich. I wasn’t very hungry anymore. I cleaned up, wiped down the table, and looked at the clock. I still had a good two hours to kill before Trent arrived. I needed to get the kids to the babysitter, but I wouldn’t have to do that for another hour and a half. Time had become my greatest enemy. If I allowed it, I’d end up talking myself out of this date…or whatever it was.
I decided to kill the hour left by cleaning. Unlike most people I actually enjoyed doing household chores. It allowed me to keep busy.
Once the whole house was spotless I checked the clock again. I had enough time left to run the kids down the road to Colleen’s—a nice older lady that occasionally kept the kids for me when I was in a pinch. She’d seen my mom in action and agreed with me that the kids shouldn’t be left with her. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about the after school time they were stuck with my mom. She was usually already passed out by that time and didn’t bother them. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone today with Trent and didn’t think it would be all right to leave them home, basically by themselves.
I packed a small bag with toys and snacks. Ivy had a book under her arm and waited by the door for me.
I buckled Tristan in his car seat and drove a block over to Colleen’s. She opened the door when she heard me pull in the gravel driveway. Tristan hopped out and gave me a big hug before running into Colleen’s house. Ivy hugged me as well, her eyes sad. I knew last night had really upset her and she still wasn’t over it.
“Thank you for doing this,” I told Colleen, handing her the bag. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back,” I frowned. “I’ll call you when I know something.”
“No rush, sweetie,” she took the bag from my hands and set it inside, using her foot to hold the glass storm door open. “I know you don’t get out much. Have fun!”
It was pretty sad that everyone seemed to notice that I rarely got out. What was wrong with that? I liked being at home with my siblings. I wasn’t missing out anything.
“Thanks,” I forced a smile, and backed off the porch steps.
I drove the short distance home and was getting out of my car when Trent’s black car came speeding down the road. He didn’t pull into the driveway; he parked on the street, like he had when we were teenagers. A part of me missed those days, when I’d been young and naïve. Trent had been the greatest thing to ever happen to me, but also the worst. Like an idiot here I was back for more.
He rolled down the passenger window and lifted his black Ray Bans from his eyes. “Get in.” The words were slightly demanding in tone, like he thought I’d run away and he needed to be bossy, but they were softened by the easy grin he wore.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and zipped up my jacket. Today wasn’t as cold as it had been in the last few days and the sky was a bright clear blue.
I opened the car door and slid inside. My poor heart was beating so fast that I thought it might give out. I wasn’t going to let Trent know I was nervous, though. I’d act like I was perfectly fine.
“Where are we headed?” I asked, buckling the seatbelt as he pulled away.
“Not far,” was his vague reply.
“That’s all I get?”
He smiled crookedly. “Yeah, that’s all you get.”
I stared out the window watching the trees and houses rush by. Familiar sights met me and I turned to him. “Seriously?” I questioned. “We’re going to the library? They’re closed.”
Trent chuckled. “Oh, how you doubt me,” he scratched his slightly stubbled jaw. “We’re not going to the library, emphasis on the not. We’re going to be in the vicinity,” he said, turning down a street and into a parking garage.
“So,” I drew the word out, “are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?”
He hopped out of the car without a reply. I followed him to where he stood, opening the trunk. He pulled out a small black bag and slung it crossways over his body.
“Is that a purse?” I questioned.
Trent let out a bellowing laugh that echoed around the parking garage. “A purse? Oh, that’s a good one,” he continued to laugh as he slammed the trunk closed.
“If it’s not a purse, what is it?” I asked, walking beside him as we headed for the exit.
“Well, seeing as how this is our first real date…as adults that is,” he winked, “I wanted to do something different.”
“And by different, you mean—?” I probed.
“I thought I’d introduce you to one of my hobbies,” he stopped on the sidewalk, tilting his head up to let the sun’s rays hit his skin.
“Are you purposely being vague to irritate me? I can always leave,” I huffed, tossing my finger over my shoulder in the opposite direction.
“Oh, how I love your sassy mouth,” he smirked, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I love it even more when my mouth is on yours.”
“So poetic,” I droned. “It makes me want to rip off my panties.”
“Hey, whatever it takes,” he shrugged nonchalantly, unzipping the black bag at his waist. I peered closely to see what he was pulling out.
“A camera?” I questioned. “What are you doing with a camera?”
“Uh—isn’t that obvious?” He aimed it at my face and there was a clicking sound.
“Did you seriously just take my picture?”
“I seriously did,” he grinned boyishly.
“I’m s
o confused. What does a camera have to do with this date?” I asked, pushing my hair out of my eyes as a light wind ruffled it.
He held the camera up again, snapping another picture as he spoke. “I wanted to do something different for our date. Lunch or dinner, that’s too basic. Go-karts is for teenagers—besides they’re closed at this time of year,” he rambled as he continued to snap pictures of me. I resisted the urge to shield my face, letting him snap away. “I was about to give up hope when I was playing with Bartholomew—that’s my ferret, if you forgot—and I was struck by a genius thought. A photo shoot!” He grinned, clearly pleased with his so-called brilliant idea. I had to give him props, it was definitely a different date concept. “I would get to spend time with you, take your picture—you’re beautiful, so you make an excellent model—and we could just…hang out.” His expression was suddenly vulnerable, and I hated that I was the reason for it. My constant rejections had genuinely hurt his feelings—so why hadn’t he given up on me?
“It’s a great idea, Trenton,” I smiled—it was a small smile, but at least it was a real one.
“Are you sure?” He asked, holding his camera at his side. “All of a sudden it seems kind of silly,” he frowned.
He made like he was going to put his camera away and I stepped closer to him, reaching out and grabbing his arm to halt his movements. My hand tingled where it touched his skin. How could one person make my body feel so…shivery? Nobody else, and I did mean nobody, gave me those same feelings. “Don’t put it away,” I pleaded softly. “It really is a good idea. Way better than go-karts.”
Trent still seemed unsure of his idea. That was something I liked about Trenton. One minute he seemed like the most confident guy ever and the next he wasn’t afraid to show his insecurities.
“May I?” I asked, sliding my hand down his arm to grasp the camera.
Tempting Rowan Page 9
