I want to ask her if she felt this way about my dad—if she had this hard of a time walking away from him, too. When did she know it was time to give up on him? The story is that he hit her once and she left. Emmett has done worse than that to me—more than once. And I’m still here. If I told her that, as my mother, she would be obligated to lock me up and never let me see him again. But I need her to help make me understand the way my heart feels about him.
I don’t want to blame him for the way he is. I know no one ever taught him how to love someone. How to really love them. I don’t know what his mother is like, but she was absent enough to let his father be a monster. I want to tell him it doesn’t matter that he’s so fucked up, as long as he loves me the best way he knows how. Maybe I can teach him. Maybe I can fix him.
“You’ve just been spending so much time with him lately,” she says lightly. “Things must be getting pretty serious.”
“I’m not going to run off with him again, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I reply confidently, thinking in my head that what I really mean to say is, ‘He’s not going to kidnap me again.’
“No, I wasn’t worried about that, Ophelia,” she answers crossly. “I just want to know what’s going on in your life. Be a part of it all. Since you are spending so much time with Emmett, maybe you could invite him over to dinner tonight? I mean, if he’s important to you, then we’d like to get to know him.”
I’m quiet for a moment, thinking through her suggestion. She has no idea just how important Emmett is to me, or how much we’ve been through together—how much we’re still going through together. I want to deny the invitation, but I feel guilty that we’ve sat down with my dad and not my mom and stepdad…the parents who have actually been supporting me and involved in my life.
I’m also relieved that Emmett is the only thing she is concerned about right now, given how many other things are looming. So, I tell her that I’ll ask Emmett to come over for dinner. The hard part is going to be telling him that.
“Okay, I’ll ask him,” I tell her finally. She lingers with a wide smile, just staring at me. “Well…not with you sitting right here.” I laugh. “Go and I’ll call him.”
“Got it.” She nods sharply, throwing her hands in the air. “Say no more. Here I go.” She shoots me one more excited and giddy grin before shutting the door.
She calls over her shoulder on her way out to let me know that they’ll have dinner ready at six o’clock, and once she’s gone, I pick up my phone to call Emmett. He sounds groggy when he answers, and it takes a moment for us to really be able to hear each other.
“What?” he grumbles across the line for the third or fourth time.
“Dinner!” I yell back. “Come over to my house for dinner tonight.”
The line falls quiet for a moment, making me wonder if he still can’t hear me. “Tonight’s not really a good night,” he says finally.
“Oh.” I wait for further explanation, but he says nothing. “Why not? What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is my sister is missing,” he bites back, “and I still have no clue where she is or where to even start looking.”
“I know that, and I’m sorry. But if we don’t know what to do next anyway…why not come over for dinner?” I suggest. “We can talk afterwards and figure out a plan.” There’s a long pause on the call. “Listen, you sat down with my dad and played nice…it’d mean a lot if you could do that for the parents who have actually been present in my life. Besides, Mom is getting suspicious of how much time we’ve been spending together. If she doesn’t start getting to know you, she may put a stop to all of our rendezvous.”
“Fine,” he says after another long pause. “I’m sorry…I just didn’t sleep much last night. What time?”
“Six tonight,” I tell him. “And don’t be late, okay? My mom is really excited about this.”
“Great,” he grumbles and promptly hangs up.
“What the fuck,” I mutter under my breath, staring cluelessly at the phone.
Emmett seems to have changed overnight. Aside from what’s happening with his sister, things between us were fine. And now he’s closed off. Like the well of everything that has been opened up to me over the past couple of weeks is suddenly dry. I try to ignore how terrible it makes me feel, and I’m hoping that by the time he arrives for dinner, he’ll have snapped back into the new Emmett I have come to know. Or at the very least, the Emmett that knows how to charm people into getting what he wants. I’ve watched him work that magic on my father, and I want more than anything to see him please my mom and Brendan in the same way.
I’m surprised by how excited I am to be having Emmett over for dinner. He is charismatic enough when he’s trying to win people over, and I think that given a second chance, my mom and Brendan will actually come to like him.
Mom and Brendan are nothing like the other parents in this town—at least not the ones whose children attend WJ Prep. Their world centers around family, not money. And ironically enough, it was bringing us here that has torn part of their family away. I have only grown distant since we moved, but not out of choice. I am just constantly being pulled off by some new disaster.
But my excitement fades that evening when it’s nearly 6:45 and Emmett still hasn’t showed. I call and text but get no reply.
My mom has made one of her specialties. They’re just simple bean burritos, but her seasonings, the spices and sauces, are what make the dish. It’s a rich and salty dish and it’s one of my favorites. Now it’s sitting here getting cold because my boyfriend couldn’t bother to show up on time, even though I begged him not to be late. My heart sinks in embarrassment with each passing minute. I can’t help but feel judged by my parents. Like they’re wondering why I’m spending so much time with this guy who, in this moment, appears to be an asshole. If they only knew the things he has done that have been so much worse. Then they’d really judge me. I wanted him to impress them. I wanted to be able to feel proud of him and our relationship. Instead I’m sitting here feeling certain that they think I’m an idiot for falling for this guy.
“I’m so sorry,” I offer shyly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know why he’s late. You worked so hard, Mom.”
“Oh, nonsense!” She waves my apologies away with a smile. “I would’ve made this whether he was coming or not. And we’ll eat it whether he comes or not.”
“You don’t think he’s coming,” I state with a muffled sigh.
“No! Not what I said!” she shoots back confidently. “I’m sure he’ll be here.”
The smell of my mom’s cooking is almost enough to calm my anger. She’s right. We have this with or without Emmett, which is more than he has without me. I don’t even know if he knows how to appreciate a family like mine. It’s unfamiliar and foreign to him. Maybe that’s why he’s not here. Because he has no comprehension of how important this is. Meeting with my father was like a business transaction. He only went because he needed something out of it. I’m more afraid than ever that Emmett is too fucked up to merge into my world in the ways that I need. In the ways that I want.
“Well, I’m going to start eating,” Brendan grumbles finally.
My stepdad Brendan is a big guy with full tattooed sleeves and a big scruffy beard. His stance is scary and enough to throw any guy off, but I know his warmth and sweetness. I just don’t want Emmett to know about it. He needs to be afraid of something around here.
Brendan towers above my petite mom, with her thick black hair and tan skin. We share the same hazel eyes and small figure, but running keeps my muscles bulky, giving me more curves than her.
“No!” my mother hisses, smacking his fork down from his hand. “I’m sure he’ll be here. Right, Ophelia?”
“No, go ahead,” I answer despondently. “I’m hungry. It’s going to get cold.”
An awkward silence falls over the table as Brendan digs into his food without hesitation. I shovel my food around on my plate, but my mom keeps her hands firmly planted, refusing to take a bite without our guest.
“Emmett has been preparing to take over Jameson Automobiles,” I explain, trying to make excuses for him. “Which is really like running Jameson. He has already started meeting with the advisors of the company and has been really stressed.”
“I can’t believe that so much responsibility would be placed on someone his age,” my mom gapes.
“I know.” I sigh. “But he seems determined to prove to everyone that he is capable.”
Finally, the doorbell rings. I race to answer it and thankfully, Emmett is finally standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand.
“Where have you been!?” I hiss quietly, yanking him inside and shoving him towards the dining table.
“So sorry I’m late,” he announces, rushing over to shake their hands and give my mom the flowers. “I stopped for these and then hit traffic.”