Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Iwake up with a smile on my face, and crack a window to let in the cold air.
Delicious scents waft across the pool deck, telling me breakfast goodies are the way.
I peek through the lace curtains and look toward Rocco’s yard.
I’m not ready for what I see. On this chilly November morning, he is out there, his broad, golden chest bare to the world.
He’s dressed in nothing but loose drawstring pajama pants.
What’s he doing out in the cold with no shirt on?
Yoga? Tai chi? Should I bring him a coat?
Would it be more efficient to press my naked body up against him?
Oh god, I’m pathetic.
The knock on the door startles me.
My sister, Jill, is in the doorway before I can answer, wearing a fluffy bathrobe and double fisting mimosas.
“Is one of those for me?” I ask, bounding down the loft ladder and reaching for a glass.
She pivots away from me, laughing. “Mimosas are for the helpers. I came to see if you were alive.”
I rummage through my weekend bag for my sweatpants. “Of course, I’m still helping prep Thanksgiving dinner. Why? What time is it?”
“It’s 9 a.m.”
“Oh my god!”
Prep time begins at 7 a.m. Mom has a strict oven schedule to adhere to.
“Well, why were you up so late last night, hmm?”
I don’t like the suggestive tone she’s using, so I tell her the truth. “Elizabeth —your daughter — fell asleep on me, and I didn’t have the heart to tote her off to bed before the movie ended.”
Mostly, I wanted to sit next to Rocco, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Why are you so jumpy this morning?” Jill asks, handing me my mimosa as we walk in our slippers across the winterized pool deck and make our way toward the house.
“Nothing! I think Mom and Dad need to build a privacy fence around the backyard,” I ramble.
My sister snorts. “Why? They already have the safety fence…oh. I see.”
“You see what?”
Jill arches an eyebrow and flits into the kitchen.
“She’s alive!” Dad jokes.
Jill says, “She’s been staring at the half-naked old man next door. That’s what’s up.”
“Shut up! And he’s not old!”
Dad shoots a look at Mom, but Mom’s busy at the stove and seems to be ignoring him. Jill busies herself with feeding mashed bananas to the youngest of her brood.
“It’s weird that you guys can see each other’s pools, that’s all,” I say, rolling my eyes and sipping my mimosa.
“Here,” Mom says, shoving a wooden spoon and a bowl at me. “Less talking, more stirring.”
“Good morning to you, too, Lucille,” I say, setting down my drink and getting to work.
Weird that she didn’t acknowledge Jill teasing me about Rocco. Ordinarily, I would say that’s a good thing, but Mom has been acting strange around our neighbor since last night. The hugging was one thing, but then she gave Rocco my popcorn bowl. Mine, the one I painted myself in middle school.
When everyone eventually filters out of the kitchen and it’s Mom and me left behind with the cooling cranberry relish and a turkey fresh out of the brine bath, I corner her.
“Mom. What is going on?”
She bats her lashes. “What do you mean?”
“You're fawning over Rocco. I think Dad even noticed.”
“Oh,” she says, and my heart feels like it might drop fifty feet because she’s not denying something is going on.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I say, “Mom, I’m not getting back together with Matthew, so you can forget that.”
She looks offended. “Of course I don’t think you’re getting back with Matthew! He’s engaged! My goodness, whatever gave you that idea?”
“Well, something is going on!” I hiss, careful not to let anyone else overhear.
I tick off all my observations on my fingers.
“You send him to pick me up. You hug him. A lot. You’ve been texting him all kinds of information about me, like where I work?
It wasn't a coincidence that he knew where my office was, Mom. And on the car ride, he told me you gave him all the dirt on how I found nudes on Carl’s phone! ”
“Not all the dirt…I left out the graphic details.”
“And then last night you gave him my popcorn bowl. My. Popcorn. Bowl.”
“Lighten up, child. It’s a bowl. We have many.”
I stare her down, and she gives in first, breaking away from this exchange and focusing on more food prep.
Wait.
No.
There’s no way I would ever believe it, but all the pieces finally make sense.
My mother has feelings for Rocco.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I cannot believe I am asking this, but is something going on with you two?”
She sighs but doesn’t answer, her back still toward me as she works.
I might cry. “This is not the day to sort all this out, but before things get weird, you need to talk to Dad.”
She clucks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I look over my shoulder to make sure no one is listening, then hiss, “If you don’t tell Dad something is going on, I will.”
Lucille turns to me and scoffs. “Your father already knows. He’s in on it!”
I gasp. “Ew! Mom!”
“What do you mean, ew?”
Am I on another planet?
“Dad knows you and Rocco are…are…”
Mom nods and then speaks slowly as if I’m dumb. “Dad was the one who brought it up!”
I slump into a kitchen chair and rest my head in my hands. “I’m gonna puke.”
“Tiffany! What has gotten into you…oh.”
I peek at her through my fingers. Recognition registers on Mom’s face. “Oh, no! You think I’m having an affair?”
I blink at her. “You’re not?”’
“My god! No!” She looks at me like I’ve never offended her so deeply in my life.
“Then what in the hell are we talking about, Mom?”
Lucille doubles over. I wait for an explanation. Then, she rights herself, tosses her head back, and laughs maniacally. And still, I wait.
Finally, she recovers. “Last summer, your father and Rocco talked. Honey, that man has been torturing himself for years.”
“Over what?”
Mom comes at me with her arms outstretched and folds me into a gentle hug. “Oh, honey. Every year, you come home for the holidays with a different boyfriend. And every year, Rocco skips town like a thief in the night.”
My brow furrows. “I don’t get it. What does his torturing himself over what happened at prom have anything to do with me having boyfriends?”
She pats my cheek. “Baby. I’m tired. And I love you, but sometimes, you’re very dense. Now. Your father needs to butter that bird, and I’m going to take a nap. I’ll see you at dinner. Wear something cute!”
I stare at my mom when I realize what’s going on here.
Lucille and Derek had a motive for that ride in from the city. My parents are pushing Rocco and me together so we can be…well, together.
Not in my wildest dreams…
Agog, I watch her swan across the room. “You finagled everything?”
She yawns. “Yes, my love. We did.”
“But why?”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like him?”