CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I wake up two hours later to the sound of someone knocking. Sam’s voice comes through the door. “Hey, babe? Everybody’s getting ready to have dinner outside together. Will you please come out and join us? I know it’s not going to be easy, but maybe it’s worth doing anyway.”
I get up and walk over to the door, cracking it open. “I’m not interested in having dinner with those people.”
His handsome brown eyes look concerned. “Why not?”
I really want to slam the door in his face because he’s asking me dumb questions I’m not in the mood to answer, but I resist. “I think you know why.”
“I know you don’t want to have a relationship with them, but could you just come out anyway? For your moms’ and your sisters’ sake? You know . . . just be polite or whatever.”
I’m being guilt-tripped and lectured by the guy who threw things around and bashed up amplifiers in my sister’s apartment mere hours after he met her. “Polite? Are you kidding me? What’s polite about people showing up at my front door, thinking they can stay here without talking to me first?”
Sam glances down before answering. “Isn’t that what everybody does around here?”
“It’s not the same, Sam, and you know it.” I hate that he’s mostly right.
“I really don’t think they know how upset you are. I don’t think they came here trying to make you mad.”
“Amber knew.”
“Yeah, about that . . . I don’t know her very well, but I kind of get the impression that she’s not telling them everything. They’re really excited to meet you, actually.”
I feel myself start to soften, but I ignore my traitor heart. “Well, they can forget it, because I’m not excited about meeting them at all. In fact, I’d rather kiss the ass end of a warthog than meet them.”
Sam chuckles. “I think you’re being a little overly dramatic.”
I shut the door in his face. “Then I guess you won’t want to have dinner with me either, since I’m so overly dramatic.”
His fingers tap on the door. “Come on now, don’t get me wrong. I like the drama. It’s exciting. Why don’t you let me in there so I can take your clothes off? You’re getting me all excited with your spitfire attitude. I’ve never seen you like this, but I have to say, it’s pretty sexy.”
I’m trying really hard to stay mad at him, while my heart melts into goo. I know what he’s trying to do, but it’s not going to work. “Go away. I’m not getting naked with you.”
“Please. I really miss you. You’ve been gone all day.”
“No.” I regret my words as soon as they’re gone from my mouth, but I’m not taking them back. I’m not in the mood to have my ruffled feathers smoothed down.
“I wrote a new song. I’d love for you to hear it. I’m going to play it at dinner tonight.”
My heart leaps. I crack the door open. “You are not.”
He points at me. “Gotcha.”
I try to slam the door in his face, but he puts his foot in the way and blocks it. He reaches in with his arm and slides it around my waist, pressing the door open more and pulling me up against him. He kisses me right on the mouth and then glares at me. “Get your butt downstairs and come say hi to these people. They’re guests at the farm, and you’re supposed to be nice to them. And besides . . . I know you’ll regret not doing it. You’re a good girl and you love your family.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Those men are not my family.”
“I was talking about your sisters and moms, sassy girl.” He gives me a playful spank on the butt.
All I can think about is mutiny, saying no, and maybe even slapping his silly handsome face just for good measure, but then he kisses me again, softer this time. And then again and again. Pretty soon I’m mush in his arms.
“I don’t think they’re very nice people,” I finally say when he gives me a moment to speak.
“Maybe they’re not, but you’ll never know if you don’t go out and see for yourself.”
I frown in frustration. “Why is everybody trying to make me do things I don’t want to do?”
“Nobody’s going to make you do anything. But the people who love you are going to encourage you to do the right thing. Just like you do for me, just like you do for your sisters.”
“I’m feeling very manipulated right now.”
“Love can be a great manipulator at times, that’s for sure. But I’m not going to trick you into doing anything that’s wrong for you; you can trust me on that.”
His words ring so true, I cannot ignore them. He’s the only one who’s been willing to listen to me and actually talk to me about how I feel. He left me up here to work this out on my own, but now he’s here working through it with me, and I know it wasn’t easy for him to deal with all those people—the band, my mothers, my sisters, and Sadie—on his own.
We hold hands, our fingers lacing together, and I stare into his eyes. “Why do you care so much?”
“I don’t know. Why do you care so much about me?”
“Don’t turn my question back on me; just answer it.”
He sighs and looks at me with such tenderness that it almost makes me weep. “I care about you because you’re special. You’re not like other women. Remember? You told me that the first time I met you.”
I can’t help but smile. He is so crafty. “I told you so.” I pause. “Did you talk to your brother?”
“Yes, I did.” He smiles.
“Are you going to tell me what you said? And what he said?”
“Maybe later.” He reaches around and smacks my butt again. “Come on. Brush your ratty hair and then come downstairs and say hello.”
“Hey. Don’t talk about my hair like that.” I reach up and touch my head, finding a big knot in the back. “Oh, damn.”
He pinches my cheek and walks away. “I’ll be waiting for you.” He goes down the stairs, and his footsteps trace across the living room floor to the front door before I lose track of the sound of them.
Sam is not the most outgoing person in the world, but he’s down there mingling with these people who are offering him a chance at a whole new life that will make it possible for him to raise Sadie without financial worries. It can’t be easy for him, all that pressure. And I’ve been up here feeling sorry for myself and leaving him to do it all on his own. I’m ashamed of myself, thinking of how stubborn and unbending I’ve been. I believe Sam’s impression of Amber . . . that she hasn’t been totally forthright with the band about my feelings. It would be just like her to try and trick all of us into having a conversation I’ve been avoiding.
I hate her and I love her for her actions. I know why she’s doing it; she thinks she’s helping me move past my anger. She’s doing this out of love for me. But it distresses me that she doesn’t respect me enough to listen to what I’m saying and do as I ask. She and I are going to have to have a conversation about that. The time has passed in our lives when she can do this to me. It was fine when we were girls, but we’re not kids anymore. I’m my own person, and it’s high time she respected that.
I don’t want to go down there and mingle with our guests, but I do want to be there for Sam. That’s what gets my feet moving toward the bathroom so I can brush my teeth and my hair. I even go back to my room and put on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I’m not going to wear anything too nice . . . I’m not interested in showing off for anyone, but I don’t need to embarrass myself either.
I’m going to go out there and be myself—the real Emerald . . . shy and quiet, but determined to live her life on her own terms. I’ll show the members of Red Hot that they walked away from somebody pretty special when they let my mom leave without a word. It’s something they can never get back, and it’s sad, but it’s our reality, and I’m not going to hide from it anymore. I’m not going to be afraid of it any longer either. And I am not going to let it rule my feelings, thoughts, or emotions anymore. Watch out Red Hot, because here I come.