The O Intention(36)

“Hey, you kissed me,” I tease as I climb the stairs and slip past him. “Hi, Mama.”

I kiss her on the cheek and hover close as her warm arms surround me. This is nice. The greeting is always nice.

“Do I need to get you a watch, Alixandra?” She asks, mid hug. “You know dinner starts at six forty-five.”

I roll my eyes at the use of my full name and pull back from her. “Did we miss dinner?”

She shakes her head and her short, caramel curls bounce against her narrow shoulders. “Luckily for you I’m running late. I’ve only just got the chicken out of the oven.”

Of course she has. I peer smugly at Jesse who waits a few steps behind me, but he ignores me. On purpose, too.

“This is your current love interest?” she asks as she leans to look around me.

My jaw tightens instinctively at the way she said ‘current love interest’, as though I’m not capable of keeping them for very long.

“This is Jesse,” I say, and right on cue, he extends his large hand to her.

Mom steps past me and slips her hand into Jesse’s. I watch him as he interacts with my mother. He is polite and elegant. Each smile is smooth and beautiful, not overbearing or nervous in anyway. He meets people all of the time and it’s evident. Naturally, Mom asks him to call her ‘Mrs. Andrews’ and he grins at me as he hears my last name being said aloud. I regret inviting him with each passing second my mother spends marveling over him. She tells him I’ve never brought home a man even close to the league that he is in. Naturally, he brushes all of her compliments off as if it were your average light conversation and boasts how it was he who had to convince me to give him a chance. Knowing it’s complete bullshit, I let him talk. Having my mother proud of me for something is better than nothing. When they’re finally finished with their initial conversation, Mom leads us inside.

The house is the same now as it was when I was a kid. Photo frames everywhere… most of the furniture is still brand new looking and still wrapped in plastic to prevent stains. To be honest, it kinda feels like a hospital and I hate hospitals.

She ushers us into the large dining room and the roast chicken still hasn’t been served. ‘Do I need to get you a watch, Alixandra?’ Yeah, right.

“Alixandra!” Dad cheers from his end of the table.

I note the empty wine glass by his plate. He’s only this cheerful when he’s had his fill of wine. I circle the table, give him a hug and introduce Jesse. Just like Mom, Dad immediately sucks him into conversation; only his is about careers and money and how I need motivation to do something other than bartend. Honestly, I zone it out. I pull out my chair and just as I’m about to drop into it, a high, feminine voice calls my name and I’m forced to turn around.

Grace stands in the doorway in a pretty blush colored cocktail dress with her hands on her hips. “Fashionably late as always, Alix.”

Her long, chocolate brown hair swings around her elbows as she launches forward and pulls me into a hug. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. Last time, she had caramel colored curls, just like Mom. Lucky for her, the chocolate suits her. I hug her back. Despite how much she pisses me off, or how jealous I am of her, she is my baby sister and I miss her a lot.

She holds me at arm’s length. “You look great.”

“You too.”

I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always felt stilted around my family… I’ve always felt different. Is that normal? I doubt it. Beside me, Jesse clears his throat and I take the opportunity to introduce him. Like everyone else here tonight, my dear sister goes all doe eyed as he speaks. His voice is even and smooth—professional. With some words, I hear the small hint of an accent he’s not trying hard enough to hide. Grace picks up on it instantly and questions him about it. From there, we move to our seats while Jesse explains that he was born in Australia, and had lived there until his early twenties. Then, he moved to the US to work with his father.

“A motivated man. I like it,” Dad comments. “Maybe it’ll rub off on you, Alix.”

Asshole. I open my mouth to voice my retort, but Jesse’s hand falls to my thigh and all words, thoughts and brain function cease.

“Have you given any thought toward going to college, Alix?” Grace chimes in as she sips at her wine. “What do you want to do?”

What do I want to do? I want to fucking read, work and have sex, then rinse and repeat.

“I’m doing what I want to do and I’m happy where I am,” I answer, proud of the complete detachment in my voice.

“But surely you don’t want to bartend all your life… what about a business degree? You could own your own bar.” Grace’s voice isn’t unkind or patronizing… but it irks me anyway. I don’t know how many times I need to have this conversation.