Chapter Eight: The Boy Band Asshat Needs to Know You’re Mine
I realize my mistake the moment I step into the fancy restaurant my mother’s selected. The impersonal, stuffy setting clearly shows that she’s not up for a heart-to-heart. Well, good, I’m not ready for that, either. Clutching Cole’s hand, I look around for a familiar face, but it’s my boyfriend who points me in the right direction.
“That’s her, right?”
I swivel in the direction Cole points, and the first thing I notice about the woman sitting at the table is that she looks happy. Maybe that’s not something to begrudge, but I do. She’s smiling warmly at the man seated next to her and is constantly touching him in some way, stroking his arm, holding on to his hand, the works. There’s an easy affection that’s long been missing from my parents’ marriage. Maybe if she’d kept off the antidepressants and hadn’t been lost in a constant haze of prescription drugs, we’d have a better relationship.
Her appearance has drastically changed; she’s no longer going for the whole The Stepford Wives look. For one, her hair’s blonder, with warm highlights that bring out her eyes. I can see she’s lost weight, but that’s only given her face more definition; her body from the waist up looks more toned, and, as much as it hurts, she’s glowing. Her eyes gleam with adoration as the good-looking man in a crisp navy suit with the salt-and-pepper hair caresses her cheek. He’s the one who notice me watching them and says something to my mother, who turns to look at me.
Our eyes meet from across the busy dinner service; she smiles at me, and I try to return it, I really do, but it’s not that easy.
“Come on; you can do this,” Cole assures me, leading me to the table that’s set for five people. The fact that she’s brought her latest fling to our so-called reunion is evidence enough that this is not going to be the scene for a mother-daughter bonding session. Still since I’m here, I might as well put a smile on my face, and get done with this so that Cole and I can go ahead with our plans. Cole places a hand at the small of my back and leads me to the table. Both my mother and her date stand, and I get a good look at her. Susan O’Connell née Ryan always dresses impeccably, come rain or shine, but it’s obvious that she’s changed her style, wearing a fitted navy sheath dress that hugs her curves. If the dress were even an inch tighter, it would look obscene, yet it doesn’t. She looks classy and elegant, but most of all hot.
I’m glad for the impromptu shopping trip I took in the afternoon, spending way too much money on my own red wrap dress made of a fitted jersey material. I got the Megan-and-Beth stamp of approval and Cole had been rendered speechless for a minute or ten, so I must look good. Appearance has always mattered a lot to my mother. Back in the day, when I was heavier, she would breathe down my neck about losing weight. I’d get daily suggestions on diets, and some days she would purposely buy me clothes about four sizes smaller just so she could point out that I needed to stop shopping in the men’s section for some decent jeans. It’s not surprising that we didn’t get along.
Now she watches me carefully, assessing every fine detail, and there’s still the little girl inside of me that wants her approval. The gleam in her eyes tells me that I’ve finally done something right in my life. Approaching them, we exchange pleasantries, and I stiffen a little when Mom hugs me. She holds on to me for a while and I breathe in her familiar scent. “You look wonderful, honey. That color looks incredible on you.”
No hey, Tessa, how’ve you been, no hey, congratulations for getting into college. I guess that’s what was expected.
“You look great too, Mom.”
She touches her hair consciously. “It’s not too much?” She grasps my hands in hers as we sit down. “I just wanted a change, you know?”
“It looks good.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Tessa; your mother talks about you all the time.”
My mom’s date is a Wall Street heavyweight called Patrick McQueen; the man oozes wealth and charm. Now, as he sets his eyes on me, I notice that he looks nothing like my father. For someone in his late forties, he looks impossibly fit and well groomed. He peers at me and I squirm in my own seat, unconsciously smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in my dress.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, though I wish I’d heard more about you. This is kind of a surprise.” I try to sound as polite as possible, but there’s not really a better way to phrase that your mother ambushed you into meeting her man of the moment. But Mr. McQueen doesn’t skip a beat; he laughs and turns to Cole, who has not let go of my hand till now. I think he’s well aware that I might have one of my outbursts if he lets go of me. I love him even more for understanding that I have a psychotic side. He and Mr. McQueen talk about sports for a bit while my mother and I sit in strained silence after we all place our orders. That is until her date addresses the elephant in the room and all hell breaks loose.
“So, son, are you—”
“He’s her friend, dear; the Stones have always been close to our family.”
“Actually, I’m her boyfriend, and we’ve been together for around nine months now.” He grins at me lovingly and I squeeze his hand. God, I’m so glad he’s here.
“Really? That’s impressive, being together for that amount of time when you two are so young. What about college, though? I heard you got into Brown, Tessa; that’s impressive. Congratulations.”
“Patrick’s right, Tessa, you need to focus on college now, and a long-distance relationship takes too much effort. I’m sure Cole will agree. You don’t want to take that kind of baggage with you. A fresh start is always a better idea, and I mean that for both of you.”
I want to take my salad fork and stab it into someone’s eyes, preferably not the woman who gave birth to me, but perhaps someone who looks like her. Given the fact that she looks like a stereotypical Upper East Side groupie, I have my pick of the lot in the restaurant. What is she doing? Why is she doing this?
“Well, then it’s lucky that we won’t need to have a long-distance relationship, isn’t it, Tessie?”
The smile on my face feels more like a grimace as I direct it toward Mom.
“Yes, it’s really lucky that Cole’s going to Brown, too.”
She looks dumbstruck and…disappointed. The warning bells have officially started ringing.
“Is he? Don’t tell me he changed his plans just to follow you to college?” She’s looking at me and directing the question to him. If she sees the angry expression on my face, she ignores it. Clenching my jaw, I pretty much dig my nails into Cole’s palm, wishing he sees that he needs to not pay attention to a single word coming out of my mother’s mouth.
“That does sound pretty reckless, Cole, following your high school girlfriend to college. What if it doesn’t work out? Won’t you regret not going to your first choice? After all, there are so many other, better choices if you want to play ball.”
It’s none of your damn business, I want to tell them! But it’s too late; the path to destruction has already been set upon. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but if this isn’t an ambush, then I don’t know what is. It’s like my mother and her date are setting us up, and we just walked right into their trap.
“I wasn’t thinking that negatively when I made the decision, with all due respect, Mr. McQueen. Brown’s a great college, and I’m lucky to be going there. But I’d still choose that school even if they didn’t give me a great scholarship offer, because I have no doubts that we will work out.”
Mom ruins the effect of the sweetest words ever said by clearing her throat, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. “You’re both teenagers; there’s no need to make such long-term plans. When you’re my age, you’ll realize the benefits of giving yourself that freedom to explore in your younger years.”
“Like your failed marriage?”
Her fork clatters to the floor as she stares at me angrily with a tight mouth. “That was extremely out of line.”
“Calm down, Susan; she was stating a fact. Tessa has all the right in the world to be angry with you, as children of divorced parents are prone to be.”
The man has the nerve to give me a patronizing look, and then he winks at me like we’re good old pals and that we both know that Mom belongs in the loony bin.
“Actually, you’re wrong. I’m angry because she knows nothing about my relationship—”
“I know that he cheated on you. Is that what you want? You want to end up with a man just like your father?”
I gasp, and Cole senses that I’m about to explode. He tries holding me down, but this dinner is destined to be doomed, as it had been from the beginning. I stand up and so does Cole, but I’m the only one glowering at my mother. It’s not even anger at the fact that she tricked me into coming here or that she seems to have no sense of remorse for the past couple of months. I’m angry because she hurt Cole’s feelings. I saw him flinch from the corner of my eye when she brought up the cheating; I noticed the tight clenching of my hand. He’s been punished enough and that, too, mostly by me. He does not deserve to be criticized by a person who has no idea what our relationship is like. She knows nothing about him, and she certainly doesn’t know me anymore.
“You know what? The only reason I came here was because this guy told me that I needed to fix my relationship with you. You used him to get me here, and now you’re insulting him? That’s really low, Mom. You weren’t there for me for so long; he was, and no matter what happened between us, you don’t get to talk to him like that. When you’ve accepted the fact that you don’t know anything about me or us anymore, maybe then we can talk.”
I’m breathing hard by the end of my tirade, and my mother looks almost glacial as she shoots vicious glares in my direction. Maybe I took things too far, but she asked for it. There’s a lot of pent-up hurt in me that needed to come out, and I know this isn’t the time or place for it, but no one gets to hurt Cole like that.
Especially after we’ve been through hell and back and are just starting to recover.
I storm away and hear Cole say something behind me, but there’s so much adrenaline and frustration coursing through me that I exit the restaurant and start pacing the sidewalk. I’m sure I look like a lunatic, stumbling around in heels, but I couldn’t care less.
How could she?
Why would she do that?
She knows how important Cole is to me. Why on earth would she try to fill our minds with doubts when it comes to our relationship? We haven’t thought that far ahead. We don’t know what the future is going to mean for us, but what I do know is that we have enough answers for at least the next four years. I don’t have any need for the freedom to explore, or whatever nonsense she was going on about.
But what about Cole?
Am I going to be enough once he’s surrounded by all those college girls? There will be older, prettier, smarter, thinner, more experienced women all around him. What if he realizes that compared to them I’m just this ordinary, naïve blonde with enough issues to fill a world map?
Damn it.
I chew at the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. Why haven’t we discussed this? When Cole told me that he was going to Brown, all I thought about was what it would mean for us. I never stopped and considered what he would be giving up. Maybe he had better offers; maybe he’d like playing for another team. How could I have been so selfish? Angry tears rush to my eyes; everything had seemed so amazing yesterday.
Now all I have are doubts and questions.
“Hey, hey, stop.”
Cole grips the tops of my shoulders and looks at me intensely. His eyes are boring into mine as he wipes away my tears. We’re still on a bustling street and there are people all around us, but the world seems to stop when he’s with me. I can only see him, and it’s already getting easier to breathe. It’s scary, this connection between us.
But it’s also the most beautiful thing in the world.
“That didn’t go well.”
I manage to laugh through the pain; yeah, that’s the understatement of the century.
He smiles, too, pulling me to his chest. “It’ll be okay, Tessie. She’s your mom; you two will work things out in time.”
I push away and stare at him in wonder. “That’s not why I’m upset. She said those things about you…she shouldn’t have done that.”
He chuckles, but there’s a certain sadness to it. It irks me because that seems like a sign that he agrees with my mother and how she belittled our relationship. Just because we’re young doesn’t mean that the love that we have for each other is futile or meaningless. Love shouldn’t have to be dependent on age, and the two of us need to believe in that. It terrifies me that maybe he doesn’t.
“Parents aren’t usually big fans of me; it doesn’t hurt me, I promise. She was right in a way; I did…I did hurt you, no matter what the truth is. I can’t really deny that.”
“No!” I say vehemently, feeling myself getting angry again. “I’ve forgiven you; we’re past that. She shouldn’t have brought it up. I don’t want you to feel like you have to constantly feel guilty about that. We shouldn’t have come here; it was all a setup.”
He doesn’t say anything but folds me into his arms. Though I wish more than anything that we could’ve talked about it more, somehow, silence and denial seem better right now.
***
It turns out that Mom’s plans to destroy my relationship were pretty long-term. Cole and I go home to an empty apartment, as we had told everyone that we would be late. We’d made plans after dinner but the mood had been ruined, obviously. Now the silence seems suffocating as we go about getting unready for the night. I immediately get rid of the dress I’d bought especially for the dinner, nearly tearing it off my body. Changing into comfortable sweats, I scrub my face clean of any makeup and run a brush through my hair, getting rid of the already-loose curls.
I don’t want any reminders, so my OCD-like behavior is completely justified.
I find that Cole has done the same. His dress shirt and slacks are gone, replaced by worn jeans and an old T-shirt that I love. What a waste of a perfectly delectable outfit. He’s lounging around on the living room sofa, his arm stretched out over the back, creating space for me. It warms me how he always does that, and I go to him, fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm.
We watch mindless television for a while, still staying perfectly silent. But the silence is ominous; we need to have an unpleasant conversation, but we’re both too scared to ruin an already-fragile thing. Suddenly we get a call from the lobby, letting us know that we have a visitor. Our friends would automatically come up, and the two of us aren’t expecting anyone, so I press for details. Turns out Patrick has sent his son to talk to me; always the businessman, he wants to find a way to negotiate. Apparently, my mother is an absolute wreck after our catastrophic meeting, and he wants to help.
Well, the joke’s on him because I know he’s lying, or my mother is a better actress than I realize. She never becomes a wreck, never loses her composure. The drugs don’t let her, and, given the hazy look in her eyes today, I know she’s still popping those pills like candy. Still, out of politeness I call Patrick’s son up.
Then I realize what I’m wearing.
Though, quickly, I realize it doesn’t matter. I dressed up once today to meet someone’s expectations and it didn’t work out, so not going down that road again. McQueen, Jr. can feast his eyes on the spectacle that is nighttime Tessa and be happy with it.
“Who was that?” Cole asks as I sit down beside him again.
“Patrick’s son is here. His father’s sent him in hopes of, and I quote, ‘negotiating with my mother.’ The guy’s crazy.”
He tenses up. “It’s okay if you mend fences with your mom. She’s family, and you can’t just leave things the way they are.”
In genuine curiosity and a bit of annoyance, I ask him, “Why is it so important to you that my mom and I get along? She basically told us to break up, and you’re still on her side. Why?”
He sighs, runs a hand over his face. I realize that whatever’s coming next is painful for him to talk about.
“I’m not on her side, baby. It’s just that…I think you should try to get along because not everyone gets to have that. A lot of people would just kill to have a shot at knowing their mom, you know?”
Oh God. My heart breaks instantaneously. That’s what this is about; that’s what he’s been thinking about. How could I be so blind; how could I not see where this was going? I want to shoot myself for being so callous about everything, given the fact that he lost his mother at such a young age. He never talks about her; he’s never mentioned missing her. I know he loves Cassandra like a mom but…
“I’m sorry, Cole. I…I wasn’t thinking.” I choke on my own words, a huge knot forming in my throat.
“I don’t want you to pity me. Cassandra’s the best thing that happened to my family, but just…don’t waste what you have with your mom.”
“I—”
There are two sharp knocks at the door, and I watch as Cole quickly shuts down that part of him. I want to scream and cry at the injustice of it. He’d just started to let me in; he never talks about his family a lot, especially his mom. He always makes it about me, and I feel like the worst person on the planet for not knowing the deep pain he carries behind those mesmerizing eyes.
“That’ll be the son. Want me to scare him off?” He grins but it’s forced. We both know what he’s doing. Now that I know more about his deepest thought, I won’t let it go. He’s going to have to talk about it.
“No, you’re right. I should at least try, right? Who knows; maybe she’s actually feeling remorseful.” He kisses me quickly, letting me know that he’s happy and goes back to the TV.
Drew McQueen screams preppy Upper East Sider in a single glance. As I open the door, I find the tall, good-looking guy looking politely disinterested as he waits. When he catches sight of me, he gives me a charming smile that would’ve worked wonders on a girl not in love with Cole Stone.
I, for one, seem to have become immune to the hot guys of the world. They don’t do anything for me, and it’s scary. But I can appreciate the fact that he’s good-looking in a pretty, Hollywood kind of way. Tall, lean, with dark brown hair, he looks every bit as privileged as he probably is with his pale skin, showing no hint of a tan. His gray eyes light up with amusement as he takes me in, in all my sweatshirt-and-sweatpants glory. He himself is dressed stylishly, with dark-washed jeans, a plain white shirt, and a navy blazer.
“You must be Tessa.”
I stare dumbly at him for a few seconds before common sense kicks in and I nod. “Hey, and you must be, umm, Patrick’s son…” Do I acknowledge the fact that I asked the receptionist for his name, or do I let him make the introductions?
“I prefer to be called Drew, but that works, too.” He shoots me a flirty smile, uh-oh.
I back away from the door, offering him a silent invitation to come in. Inside is safer; Cole’s there.
He comes in and looks around appreciatively, until his eyes come to rest on Cole. That’s when he starts to look a bit uneasy. Cole straightens up and nods in our direction. “Drew, I presume?”
“And you’re the boyfriend?”
“Cole.”
There’s a strained silence between the two, and I don’t know if it’s only me or if the two are having a stare-off. There’s a silent exchange going on, and I can’t understand a word of it.
“I didn’t realize that you two were living together. I guess my dad left that detail out.”
“Does that make a difference? You want to talk to her about her mom, right? You can do it with me here.”
Cole sounds polite enough, but I don’t miss the note of hostility in his voice. His walls are up; I can see his jaw flex, and I realize that he feels a bit vulnerable in light of our recent conversation.
“He’s right; anything you had to say to me before, you can say it in front of me.”
Drew holds up his hands defensively in front of him, still smiling. “Relax; I was just surprised, that’s all. Your mom talks a lot about you, but she never mentioned that you were in a serious relationship. I’m surprised; that’s it.”
“We’re on a trip with friends; that’s why we’re living in the same place.”
Why did I say that? That seemed a lot like a declaration about how we weren’t in a serious relationship. I’m on a roll today, screwing up everything that comes my way.
“Okay,” he says simply and gestures toward the couch. “Should we sit?”
I nod dumbly and sit closer to Cole than necessary, but he doesn’t wrap his arm around me like he usually does. He just sits there looking pensive as Drew sits on an armchair near us. I turn the TV off and hope that I do no further damage.
“My dad’s really serious about Susan,” Drew tells me as he watches me carefully. “I know that your parents got divorced recently and it must be hard, and it must be hard to see her with someone else…”
I snort, “You’re way off, buddy. I’ve been watching my parents cheat on each other for a long time. That’s what I’ve grown up with, so it’s not some kind of traumatizing issue for me to see her with your dad.”
He looks taken aback, like he’s been put off track and doesn’t know what to do next. My guess is that he had this whole speech planned, probably even wrote down the points. Now he’s lost.
“You can tell Patrick that I’m willing to work on my relationship with my mother, but only if she’s ready to respect my choices.”
He looks immediately at Cole, whose entire body is tense, his muscles straining against his T-shirt.
“I’ll pass along your message, but in the meantime, how about we get to know each other? Stay in the city for a few weeks; I’m here on break, too. Our parents are obviously close for now; why not become friends?”
“She told you she’s on a road trip; that usually entails going to more than one place. We have to leave in a couple of days.” Cole looks at him pointedly.
“That’s not nearly enough time for her and Susan to get talking. It’ll take time; she should stay for at least a couple of weeks. Isn’t that so, Tessa?”
I can’t look at Cole, and I don’t want to look at Drew. There’s no way I’m hurting Cole anymore, and the way Drew is staring at my profile doesn’t sit well. He seems like an okay enough guy, but it’s pretty clear that my boyfriend has problems with him. Plus, I didn’t miss how he said that his father and my mother are close “for now.” He doesn’t expect them to last long; maybe that explains his looks.
“I need some time. My friends and I already have plans…I can’t just change them.”
Cole exhales, but I don’t know if I’ve said the right thing.
“Well, think about it. We’ll do lunch the day after tomorrow, and you can tell me your decision. But, if you ask me, you should stay. I’ll make it worth your while.” He winks at me and leaves before I can get over the shock of his parting words.
“Fucker,” Cole mutters under his breath.
“He’s crazy,” I say out loud, and Cole pounces off the sofa, heading right for the fridge and grabbing a beer. He downs it quickly, slamming the bottle on the counter.
“Do you think that lunch is a good idea?”
I’m not asking his permission; that’s not what this is about. I want his input; I want to include him in my decisions. This is as much about him as it is about me.
“Of course,” Cole says, grinning mischievously, all the angst evaporating. “I’ll be right there with you; the boy band asshat needs to know you’re mine.”
I laugh, feeling all the tension leave my body, and giddiness overcomes me at his words.
That’s the Cole I know. However, I suddenly fear for the well-being of the McQueen family. If the older one’s got to deal with my drug-addled mother, then Drew is certainly in for the fight of his life, because he just pissed off Cole Stone.
And you just don’t do that.