Chapter 5 #2
We’re used to Madison and Walker’s bickering, but tonight seems more intense than usual. As hard as I try, my emotions are still all over the place, and I can’t seem to settle. Excusing myself, I head for the bathroom. I just need a few minutes alone to get myself together.
The bathroom is right next to the study, and I can’t help but hear Madison and Walker’s raised voices as I shut the door. I try to ignore them, but once I hear my name, all bets are off. Well, shit, now I’m listening. Madison sounds pissed, and that’s never a good sign.
“Liam? You think I should date Liam? Are you crazy?”
Um, okay, WTF?
“You guys would be good together, Mads.”
Excellent point, Walker. Yes, we would.
“Of course you would think that.”
That does not sound positive.
“And what does that mean?” Walker asks, his tone rife with snark.
“Where do I even start?” She fires back.
Now, I really want to hear what she has to say. Maybe. Well, maybe not, but it’s too late now. I’m in this.
“To begin with, he’s a man-child, and no woman wants that. The two of you are a hot ass mess, and there’s no way I want to raise a man.”
Damn. That burned. I rub my chest as I fight the urge to burst in there and defend myself.
“That’s ridiculous. We aren’t children, Mads. We’re both almost thirty.”
“You don’t act like it. You two wouldn’t know how to be adults if someone gave you a manual.
Did you know that Liam’s mom handles everything in his life?
Everything, Walker. He doesn’t even do his own damn laundry.
She does it for him. I doubt he even knows how.
She still cooks his meals for god’s sake.
How is that adulating? I bet she pays his bills, too. ”
I wince. It sounds so bad when she says it like that. After today’s conversation at my parents’ house, it hits harder than I’d like.
Walker tries to say something, but Mads doesn’t give him a chance.
“Why the hell would I want to date someone who has no life skills? I want a partner, not a project.”
My throat tightens. Ouch. My ego is taking a beating. Why am I staying to listen? I’m apparently a masochist, or maybe just an idiot. I’m not sure at this point.
“Oh, please, why does that matter when he makes the kind of money we make?” Walker’s response is caustic. I wince. Again. I know he’s going to regret this so much once he calms down.
“Oh, so you think I’m all about the money. You think I’m that shallow?”
“That’s not how I meant that. I just don’t get it. I mean, he’s a good-looking guy, he has an incredible job, and he makes crazy good money. That feels like a win to me.”
Seriously Walks? I’ve got way more to offer than just looks and money.
“There’s so much wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to start so I’ll break it down for you. Slowly, because apparently your tiny brain needs help.”
“Hey!”
“Shh, the grownups are talking.” I blink. Wow, that was a spectacular burn, although I probably wouldn’t feel that way if she were talking to me.
“First, yes, of course, Liam is hot. He’s an athlete with an incredible body, great hair, and pretty eyes.”
Finally, something I can work with, except for the eye part. Not sure I like being called pretty, but she did say I was hot, so yay me, right?
“Which is irrelevant because I’m not picking a life partner based on their looks.
That’s shallow and stupid. Yes, he has a terrific career.
Now. But what about the rest of his life, especially after hockey?
Does he have a plan? Does he even think about that?
With his mom handling everything for him, how could he?
He basically plays hockey and video games. That sounds like a child to me.”
Damn, I rub my chest as if I can wipe away her words. I can take constructive criticism, but I might be at my limit for the day.
She’s not wrong, though.
I know. I’m aware of my flaws, although I don’t appreciate the fact that everyone thought today was the day to let me know about them. Fuck, I get it. Message received.
“Let’s not even mention the fact that I would never date someone because of their money.
I can’t believe that you would even say that.
It’s like you don’t even know me? I want a partner, Walker.
A grown-up adult partner. Someone to share my life with, not someone who needs to be taken care of, who can’t handle simple adult stuff.
As my brother, I can’t believe you’d want any less for me. ”
Her voice hiccups, and it sounds like she’s about to cry. Oh God. I hate it when she cries. It makes me want to hit things. I kind of want to hit Walker right now.
“I didn’t mean it that way. Geez, you’re so emotional.”
Not sure he could have said anything worse than that, except maybe, calm down. I’m not very skilled with women, but even I know not to say that.
“Too emotional?” Her voice ramps up another octave.
Oh shit. I hope she doesn’t kick him in the nuts again. She’s done it before. She was six, and he stole her favorite stuffie, so he deserved it, but still. Of course, because he’s Walker, he keeps going.
“Yes, you’re acting just like Mom, all critical and shit. If you’re going to tell me everything I’m doing wrong then I get to tell you, too.” Walker bites out, his tone entirely too self-satisfied and, honestly, kind of mean.
“Take. It. Back! I do not sound like Mom. How could you even say that to me?”
Oh hell. I know that tone of voice, and I’m not sticking around while Walker gets his ass handed to him. This situation feels shitty enough as it is without hearing more. I book it out of the bathroom and back to the table because the last thing I need is for her to think I might be eavesdropping.
You actually were eavesdropping.
I ignore my brain and head back to the kitchen where Kenji’s doing the dishes. I get busy clearing the rest of the food off the table. Thank goodness I don’t have to front for too long, though, because I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep it together.
Walker stomps out of the office, chin stubbornly high, face like a thundercloud. Madison’s right behind him, eyes glassy and jaw clenched. She takes one look at me, and her mouth thins, eyes turning to granite. Fuck me. Not sure this night could get any worse.
My face flames, and I almost drop the serving dish I’m carrying.
My emotions are chaotic, and I’m having a hard time controlling my expressions.
I duck my head and turn towards the sink.
Kenji gives me a sympathetic look, gently plucking the dish from my now-shaking hands.
I shove them in my pockets before anyone notices, even though I’m pretty sure that Kenji caught it.
He keeps it to himself, and I send him a grateful look.
“Ready to head out, Liam?” Walker asks, voice tight and sullen.
“Sure,” I respond, trying to be nonchalant, but I’m sure no one is buying it. “Umm.. thanks for dinner, Kenz.”
My response is lame, but I have no idea what else to say after everything that went down tonight. Instead, I just give them a short wave and walk towards the door. It feels like too much and too little at the same time, but I’m an emotional disaster. I just need to get the hell out of here.
Walker just grunts his goodbye, stomping out and slamming the door rudely. I sigh and follow him to the car.
The ride home is deathly quiet. We don’t even turn on the radio. Walker is flat out fuming. Normally, I would ask him what’s wrong and try to get him to talk it out, but I already know. And since that’s the last thing I want to discuss right now, I say nothing.
After what feels like a million years, we’re finally home.
We haul all his gear up to the apartment with zero verbal interaction.
Walker heads to the spare room and shuts the door.
He doesn’t slam it this time, so I take that as a positive.
Hopefully, he’ll play some video games and calm down.
He just needs to work through it. That’s his way.
For the first time, I have no desire to game with him. My chest feels tight, and my stomach feels heavy and squidgy. There’s just no way that I’m sitting still with everything that’s on my mind right now.
I pace around the living room, my body as restless as my mind. Everything feels sharp and overwhelming. I want to hit something, but I also want one of my mom’s hugs.
I head to my room to change into my running gear. It feels like the only positive thing I can do right now. I did it a lot as a teenager, especially when I was all up in my head about something.
It’s a gorgeous late-summer night in Denver.
The sun set a short while ago, so it’s still warm, but there’s a cooler breeze wicking the sweat off my skin.
Any other night, and this would be perfect running conditions.
Not tonight, but that’s due to my mental state and not the weather.
A few people are out walking their dogs on the pathway through the park near my condo, but not many.
It doesn’t take long before I’m alone on the pathway, which is helpful because I’m in no mood for social interaction.
I forgot my headphones because I was so up in my head so no music.
Instead, my brain gives me a repeat of today’s conversations - both Madison’s and my father’s. Fantastic. Just what I need.
‘That sounds like a child to me’
‘He’s a man-child and no woman wants that.’
‘I want a partner, not a project.’
‘Your mother isn’t going to give you a list for your own life. Figure it out, son.’
The words sync with my running pace like the cadence of a drill sergeant’s march, rolling through my mind over and over again, but I keep running.
I run until the voices become a whisper in my brain.
I run until all the emotions flatten out and my muscles ache.
I run until my mind is quiet and the only thing I hear is my labored breathing. That’s when I finally head home.
Walker’s bedroom door is still closed, but I can see the light flicker through the crack at the bottom as I head for the shower.
Sleep’s not coming easily for either of us, it seems. Hours later, I finally drift off.
I may have muffled the voices for a while, but they’re still lurking in the background. Sleep is my only reprieve.