2. Ellison
“Are you sure we can’t get you to reconsider?” my mother asks as she picks an invisible piece of lint off the pristine white tablecloth.
“No,” I say firmly. “I gave my notice at work and I’ve accepted a job in Blackstone Falls.” My mother sniffs at the mere mention of the place I grew up. There had been nothing holding us there—we could have moved at any time. But for some reason we’d stayed, and then they’d followed me once I’d left for college.
My mother had been thrilled to leave Blackstone Falls even though I reminded her that I was a grown woman and didn’t need my parents micromanaging my life. Her undisguised hate for the small town never made sense to me.
Probably why I love it so much.
“But the academy has been so good to you, taking you when you were fresh out of college.”
It’s another reminder of how long I’ve allowed her to have her hand in my life. It didn’t take long to realize I’d been hired at the private academy, not based on merit—although I had the grades—but because of my mother’s generous donation.
And continued annual donations.
“You’ll stay at the house,” my father says, trying to offer an olive branch. “I’ll tell the realty company to cancel all reservations for the duration of your stay.”
“I’ve already rented a place,” I say with a shake of my head, causing my father to frown. I hate seeing him sad, but he’s out of his mind if he thinks I’m going back to my childhood home.
My father opens his mouth and then closes it while my mother takes another sip of her mineral water, her expensive salad untouched on her plate.
I look between the two of them and for the millionth time try to figure out why he’s stayed all these years. He wasn’t the best father, but he tried.
Especially while I was in high school. I decided to play tennis my freshman year, and he’d sneak away to watch me play at the away matches. Even in college, I’d turn around and find him sitting in a folding chair with the biggest smile and a don’t tell your mother shrug.
I wouldn’t dare.
It was the only time I felt like we were a team—like there wasn’t this mountain of unknown between us. In those moments, he was just my dad and I adored him. We’d go to dinner and just talk about the match, school, things we were looking forward to, but we never talked about my mother.
And those were the happiest childhood memories I had.
“I’ve set up a dinner at the country club for the Tuesday after you get back,” Mother starts as she dabs her smudge-free lipstick. “Dustin is so excited to see you.”
No she didn’t…
“Mother,” I say as calmly as I can manage at brunch time in this very pretentious restaurant, “I will not be meeting Dustin for dinner. Or breakfast. Or lunch.” My voice rises with each word, and I have to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “After what happened…”
“Oh Ellison, that was years ago. Surely you’ve gotten over that by now.”
My father’s eyes widen, and his mouth opens to speak but I shake my head. He doesn’t need to be subjected to her reign of terror when I leave. His jaw clenches like he’s physically trying to stop himself from defending me, and just that small act of support gives me the strength I need to get through this.
“I will not be having dinner with Dustin or anyone from the country club. No dinners. No meetings. Once I leave Savannah, I will not be a part of this world.” I subtly motion around the room, and her only reaction is the slight flaring of her nose. “Please do not schedule anything for me at the country club or elsewhere.”
“How could you be so ungrateful after everything I’ve done for you?” Her voice is cold, and short of getting up and walking out, there’s nothing I can do but placate her through the rest of this meal.
“Sherri Ann,” my father says gently, “Ellison is a grown woman and we need to let her?—”
“We have a reputation to uphold,” my mother hisses, and I nudge my father’s leg under the table with my foot. He rolls his eyes when she’s not looking, and I hide my snicker by shoving an unladylike bite of ravioli into my mouth.
God, I’ll miss the ravioli.
I want to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, but there’s no use in drawing more unwanted attention to myself.
My phone buzzes in my purse, and it takes everything in me to ignore it. There’s only one person who knows where I am right now.
He also knows it will drive me crazy not being able to check the damn thing until I’m out of here.
“While I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” I say calmly, “I don’t fit into all this. It’s not who I am and it never has been.” I sigh as I look around the lavishly designed space. My mother would probably have a heart attack right here at the table if she found out that I’d sold or donated most of the designer clothes that had lined my oversized closet.
I’d kept my favorite pieces and a dress that I’d worn once and couldn’t seem to part with, but there was nothing else I’d need from that era of my life when I returned to Blackstone Falls.
“You have a long drive ahead of you,” my father says, and my mother huffs before taking another sip of her drink.
With agonizing slowness, we manage to finish our meals—my father and I polishing off the meager servings and my mother never once raising her fork more than a few inches off her plate before setting it down again.
It was a routine I wouldn’t miss.
Walking out of the restaurant and handing my ticket to the valet, I turn my face up to the sun with a smile.
I’m free.
“Happy looks good on you, kid.” My father’s voice is low, but sincerity rings in his words.
“I’m excited to go home,” I say and he nods, completely unsurprised by my declaration. “Come watch me play tennis?”
His lips tip up in the corner and he dips his head. “I’d like that.”
“Evan.” My mother’s voice is shrill as she steps out of the air conditioning of the restaurant as their car is brought to the front. “It’s time to go. Ellison,”—she gives me an air kiss—“let me know if you change your mind about that dinner.”
I give her a placating expression as the valet holds open her door and she climbs inside. Turning toward me, my father opens his arms, and I step into them without hesitation.
“Why won’t you leave her?” I ask quietly, and my father’s body stiffens before he pulls back to look at me.
“It’s complicated.” Taking a deep breath, he forces a smile as he adds, “And right now we’re focusing on you getting settled and then seeing what your tennis schedule looks like.”
“It’s a deal.”
Hugging me once more, my father places a kiss on the top of my head before tipping the valet as my car is brought up. It’s not until they’re out of sight that I take my first full breath of the morning. Pulling out my phone, I grin as I read the message from my best friend.
MONTANA: Your ass looks great in that dress (heart eye emoji)
ELLISON: How do you know I’m wearing a dress?
I snickeras I look down at my floral-printed dress and snap a picture.
MONTANA: Your ass would look great in pants too
MONTANA: But it’s summer in Savannah and you always wear dresses to brunch
ELLISON: (selfie showing off dress)
ELLISON: It’s cute you know brunch attire
MONTANA: Told you your ass looks great
ELLISON: You can’t even see it
MONTANA: I don’t need to see it to know it looks great
ELLISON: (eyeroll emoji)
ELLISON: You’re such a guy
MONTANA: Guilty. So, when are you coming home?
ELLISON: Should be the day after tomorrow.
MONTANA: Well hurry up, we’ve got plans
ELLISON: What plans?
MONTANA: You and me plans, Eddie.
ELLISON: I’ll be home soon, Max.
Eddie and Max.Childhood nicknames that meant a whole lot more to me than a fancy dinner ever would. And just that thought alone has me smiling all the way back to pack up the rest of my apartment.