14. Under Her Thumb
Chapter 14
Under Her Thumb
R ose
“Here, can you catch the detail on the side?”
It was hot as balls, but when Jason asked me to help him shoot the tail end of a video on his phone, I couldn’t say no. And not because of all the photos he’d taken for me and all the orgasms he’d given me last night and this morning.
Nor was it because of the anguish on his face last night, his eyes full of tears, after he begged me to tell him we were more than just sex.
Although that would live rent free in my head until the day I died.
I couldn’t say no because his happiness was important to me. Because if I could help him, I wanted to. Because we weren’t just sexually explosive, we were good together. We were…partners.
I curtsied playfully. “I’m happy to be your lovely assistant once again.”
“Awesome.” He pulled off his shirt and tossed it somewhere behind him. After whatever had gone through his heart at the party last night, he was back to his golden retriever self when we got home, sexing me up in a shower romp and curling up around me afterward to sleep.
And today, it was like nothing had happened. But everything had happened. He’d gotten me to admit the truth, and now I had to face it.
Jason wasn’t a One.
And he wasn’t a Two.
He was so much more. I’d been too late to shut the door to my inner heart. Jason had vaulted into that dangerous territory right under my nose, and there wasn’t shit I could do about it now.
He adjusted his shorts to hang a wee bit lower on his hips. His legions of internet fans ate up every extra inch of my boyfriend’s body they could see. But I wanted him to be all mine, like he said he was. And that jealousy was in a four-way fight with my firm belief in his personal autonomy, my unease that his reluctance to reveal our relationship to the world might not only be about StudFinders, and my turmoil over quantifying what I felt for him.
Maybe I could consider him a Two-and-a-Half?
He caught me watching him, and his smile warmed me straight through.
Don’t be a stupid coward, Rose. I knew what his number was.
“Okay. I’m ready,” he said. “Start it up.”
My finger moved toward the screen, but a text message popped up.
“Wait, hold on. You got a text from…‘Do not answer’?”
It began, Hey, it’s Misty. My lips twisted. “From Misty. Oh shoot, how did it get to be this late? She’s coming with your mom before three o’clock mass so I can measure her. Can we—”
“Goddammit,” he muttered to himself, putting his things down and walking toward me.
Two more messages popped up. They began, And maybe after church you can show me… and The closet offer still stands an…
I handed his phone to him. “Something about a closet?”
If looks could kill, his phone would’ve disintegrated. “This is what I get for agreeing to go to church with my mom. And now she’s coming here.”
“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me? I have to measure her.” My voice was defensive.
“No, no. I’m not at all mad at you.” He breathed out hard, then shook out his arms and wrapped them around me, kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m mad at my mom, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” He stuffed his phone in his pocket and grabbed his shirt from where he’d dropped it, putting it on with jerky movements. “She should never have talked Becca into putting Misty into the wedding when you already had enough work to do on the dresses, and now she’s bringing her to our home.”
My heart thudded once then melted all over my insides. Our home?
“I told her I don’t want anything to do with Misty,” he said vehemently, clearly not noticing the Rose-heart-shaped puddle on the ground. “I told Misty to never talk to me again, and I told my mom what she said to me last night. But of course she didn’t believe me.”
My heart sucked back into my body and solidified, only a few pieces of grass and dirt assimilating into its new form. Grass and dirt of our home . “What did she say to you?”
“I’m not even going to ask you not to get mad, because you have every right to get mad.” He settled his hands on my shoulders and slid them down my arms, taking my hands. “Not long after I broke up with Kasey and came back home, I went out with Misty. Just once.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
“The date started out okay, but then the nightmare started. I told her I was celibate, but she was aggressively sexual and disrespectful. I didn’t want any kind of relationship with her, and she gave me so much shit over it.”
Itching powder it would be.
“So I never called her back. After Kasey, the last thing I wanted was another person telling me how to live my life.”
I bit my lip. “To be fair, I wasn’t as respectful of your celibacy as I could’ve been. My bad.”
He frowned, wrapping his arms around my waist. “No, no. Don’t apologize. You were respectful. You never belittled me for it, and you didn’t push yourself on me. I’m the one who couldn’t control myself around you.” He chuckled and rubbed my back. “It’s not your fault you’re so damn irresistible.” He kissed my forehead.
“So…what did she say to you last night?”
He shut his eyes, looking pained. “She…offered me a blow job.”
I backed up a little. “She what now?” Itching powder and a few stray pins.
He rolled his neck. “She offered to—”
“What did you tell her?”
“I swear, I told her no and to never talk to me again.” It rushed out of him, like he was scared I wouldn’t believe him.
I squeezed his arms. “I believe you. What did your mom say when you told her?”
His shoulders relaxed. “She thinks I misunderstood her. But I did not . Look at this shit.” He held his phone up and showed me the entire text string from the Do not answer! contact. “The only reason I didn’t block her was because she was coordinating the community service our group was doing.”
“Goddamn, she is aggressive. Show this to your mom. She’ll believe you.”
“This isn’t the kind of thing I ever want to talk to my mom about.” He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “We’d better go pick up. They’ll be here any minute.”
He crossed the courtyard on a mission. Barely keeping up with his long strides, I followed him into the church. “Pick what up? The house is pretty clean.”
“Can you grab your clothes from upstairs and bring them to the community room? I’ll set up that little alcove to make it look like you’re living in it.”
I stood fixed to the spot. “Wait…what?”
“Mom doesn’t know about us, and I don’t want her to find out like this.” His voice faded on his way into the hallway toward the community room.
My chest constricted. He didn’t want her to find out like this ? This confirmed we weren’t only hiding from StudFinders. I didn’t realize dating me was a shame or a tragedy. I mean, his mom didn’t seem to like me that much, but…
Whatever. I swallowed hard and ducked my head, but I did as he asked. I ran up the stairs, grabbed my duffle bag and a laundry basket I hadn’t folded yet, and rushed back down. Jason was in the alcove directly behind the altar putting sheets on an air mattress as it inflated.
None of this sat right with me. “Why do we have to lie to your mom? Plus, if we tell her we’re together, then Misty would back off.” I dropped my things on the floor. “Is it about us living together?”
“That’s a big part of it.” The sheer panic on his face as he worked told me everything I needed to know. This weekend was giving me whiplash. First it’s all you’re mine and tell me we’re more and our home and then it’s all pretend you’re living in this shitty little alcove full of boxes of flooring . This man not only didn’t want his mother to know about us, he was terrified she’d find out.
I straightened up the area, trying to force the tears in my eyes to stay there. “Jason, do you think there will ever be a time when you’re not embarrassed to tell your mom you’re dating me?”
“I’m not embarrassed of you, baby, I just need more time. After the wedding. When I can sit down and talk to her first. Okay?” In between setting the room up as if I’d been sleeping in it, his puppy dog eyes went up to me.
“Sure. Okay.” I love you so much? No, if this man wasn’t serious enough about me to stand up to his mom, maybe he wasn’t as serious about me as he claimed.
My heart thudded. And if he was willing to lie to his mom, couldn’t he just lie to me, too?
I didn’t know anymore. I left him to his last-minute treachery and went to the garment rack in the living room. I’d just…keep an eye on things. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe, I was wrong. Maybe. I. Was. Wrong. If I said that enough, maybe my stomach would stop threatening to expel the grilled cheese I had for lunch.
I flipped through the finished dresses until I got to the one that would now be Misty’s. I pulled out a stool and sat it beside my sewing table, placing my pincushion and my shears beside me. Super excited to work on a dress for the woman who wanted to blow my boyfriend, the boyfriend who couldn’t admit to his mom that he was dating me. This wouldn’t be awkward at all.
Was itching powder available locally, or would that need to be an online purchase?
The doorbell chimed. Jason hurtled himself down the stairs wearing slacks and buttoning up a short-sleeved shirt. “You ready?” he asked, his face tense, as if hordes of goblins were at our door instead of two normal-sized women.
I nodded as the handle to the front door shook, followed by knocking and his mother calling, Hello?
Jason unlocked the door and opened it. “Hey, Ma. Y’all come in.”
The two women chorused their hellos.
“Jason, you still haven’t made me a key.” Betty said. “You might need me to come check on things sometime.”
“I keep forgetting. I’ll try to get that soon.”
That’s all we needed: Mrs. Betty to have a key and walk in on us going at it in the choir loft. Or the living room floor. Or on the sofa. Or the steps to the old altar. Or bent over the dining room table. Or the choir steps. Geez, was there any place we hadn’t done it yet?
Mrs. Betty and Misty walked past the foyer into the main living area. I stood awkwardly by my sewing table as they came in. Mrs. Betty made a big fuss over Jason’s progress in the church, but Misty just eye fucked him the entire time.
“Rose, dear, it’s so good to see you.” Mrs. Betty came in for a hug. “You remember Misty, of course.”
I uncurled my hands from fists and exchanged awkward waves and hellos with Misty. Today she was wearing a brown sheath that hugged her tight little body.
“I have the dress right here, if you don’t mind slipping it on?” I handed her the gown. “There’s a bathroom in the foyer.”
“Oh, this is exquisite!” Misty held the dress up, apparently admiring how the chiffon flowed. “You’re so talented. It looks completely finished. I’m sorry you have to alter it.”
You and me both, you boyfriend-propositioning bitch. “That’s okay. Anything for Becca.”
“And the extra money doesn’t hurt either, does it?”
And now Mrs. Betty had reduced me to hired help with just a few words. Jason pinched his nose and pleaded with me with his eyes.
“Let me show you where that bathroom is,” I said, eager to get away from mother and son. I settled Misty where she could change then walked back to my sewing table into a very awkward conversation.
“Jason, you look so flushed and extra healthy today. Did you go for a run this morning?”
I adjusted my wrist pin cushion and acted like I didn’t exist.
“No, but I got some exercise in.”
I smirked with my back to them, recalling Jason’s energetic thrusting from this morning.
“Well whatever you’ve been doing, keep it up. I haven’t seen you so happy and healthy in a long time.”
I raised my eyebrows at him and nodded toward her, but he just looked pained and said nothing.
His mom went right on, and his opportunity passed. “I wanted to tell you. After you left,”—she lowered her voice to where she clearly thought I couldn’t hear—“I had a nice heart to heart with Misty. You were mistaken about what you thought you heard her say.”
“No I’m not, Ma. She explicitly said she wanted to suck my dick.”
“Jason!” Mrs. Betty exclaimed, hand over her mouth as if she’d been the one to say it. “You can’t have heard her right. Misty’s not the villain you keep making her out to be. Why don’t you ask her out today and give her another chance?”
“Mom, no. That’s never gonna happen.”
I slammed back my water bottle, wishing it was vodka, and promptly choked on it. I coughed until my eyes watered.
“Are you okay?” Jason asked, his eyes trying to communicate so much.
I waved him off. “Sometimes I forget I’m not a mermaid.”
Mrs. Betty looked up toward the front of the church. “Here she is!”
I never thought I’d be so happy to see a rival for my boyfriend’s affections enter a room. Damnit, she was so pretty, holding the oversized dress up to her body, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head. Beautiful, smart, mom-approved, and clearly into fellatio. Why was he with me, again? Although he certainly couldn’t complain about the amount of fellatio he was currently receiving.
Mrs. Betty clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh my, you look so lovely. Doesn’t she, Jason?”
But Jason had his back to us already, on his way out the back door. “I’ll be outside.”
“Stay,” Misty implored.
But Jason kept walking without a word, leaving me alone with them.
I swallowed down every feeling I had, directed Misty to stand beside me, and began pinning the bodice for changes. I’d have to take several inches off and redo the chiffon overlay on the bodice altogether, since now the darts I made for Kim wouldn’t lay right over Misty’s smaller breasts.
I needed to find my happy place before I had an anxiety attack to deal with, too. Deep breath in . I’m snoozing on that Florida beach in Jason’s arms, right now. We’re laughing in the waves as the golden sunset lights up the horizon. We’re kissing in the moonlight. We’re cuddled up watching movies late at night and laughing together, always laughing together.
Misty’s smile at me as I directed her where to stand was a straight pin popping the warm reverie over my head like a cartoon bubble. I adjusted her position more forcefully than necessary.
Mrs. Betty pulled a little package wrapped in tissue paper from her purse. “Rose, could you do one other small thing for me?”
I warily watched her unwrap the paper. “What’s that?”
She pulled out a blue handkerchief. “My great-grandmother carried this on her wedding day, and since then, all the women in our family have, too. But when I went to get it out for Becca, this part along the edge tore right off.”
“Oh no! Let me see?” I took it gently from her. The handkerchief was old, and so pretty. Sure enough, the fine linen fabric was torn and unraveled just inside the cotton lace edging. “It’s dry-rotted. That’s such a shame. It’s so beautiful. They don’t make fabric like this anymore.”
“Can it be fixed?”
“Well…” I inspected its construction, rifling through options in my head. “I might be able to replace this thin panel and reattach the lace. It might be hard to match the color, but I’m pretty good at dyeing. I think I could make it look like it was supposed to be there. And I can help protect it, so it won’t tear in the future.”
“Thank you so much! I’ll pay you, of course.”
No fucking way, after that getting paid comment. Besides, I was a sucker for fabric-based family traditions. “No, that’s okay. Consider it a contribution to keeping your lovely tradition alive.”
“Thank you, dear. That’s so kind.” Her voice was warm as she pressed her hand to her heart. “That’s just what I want, for future generations to be able to use it, too. I’ve always wanted to get the names of the brides who carried it embroidered on it, so that knowledge won’t die with me. Maybe I’ll try and find someone after the wedding. We’re all certainly too busy before it.”
“I love that idea! The fabric should be able to take it. It might even help keep it strong.” I carefully wrapped the handkerchief back up and sat it in a basket on my sewing table.
Mrs. Betty continued talking as I went back to my work. “I’m so excited about Becca’s wedding. And after I have my daughter married off, then I’ll find a lovely girl for my Jason.”
Mrs. Betty and Misty exchanged smiles, and I tried to bite my tongue. Tried.
“Jason’s an amazing man,” I said. “He won’t have any trouble finding a partner on his own.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” Mrs. Betty said. Hands on her hips, she looked around the room as if not quite knowing what to do with herself. She must not come here often. But why not?
“I know you two have become something like friends since you’ve been renting a room from him,” she continued, “but you may not know how he got duped into following his ex-girlfriend all the way across the country, only for her to cheat on him. He doesn’t have the best track record for picking girls to date on his own.”
I frowned. Where to place the tuck and my verbal barb? “That’s not a take I’ve heard on abusive relationships before, that the victim’s to blame for choosing their abuser. You know, people can come in the most beautiful packages but be completely rotten on the inside. And some abusers hide the ugly for longer than others. Right, Misty?”
Her eyes widened as she looked between me and Mrs. Betty. “Uh…”
But Mrs. Betty studied me for a minute, as if she’d never in her life thought of things from that perspective before. “Well. I suppose the good book says we must beware of those who come in sheep’s clothing. Kasey seemed like a nice young woman, at first.” She walked a little ways away and perched at the end of the sofa, looking uncomfortable in her own son’s home. “She sure fooled all of us.”
“Okay, I need you on your knees,” I said to Misty.
Her head turned to me so fast I almost snorted. “What?”
“Just kidding!” I said brightly. “Step up here so I can pin the hem.”
She frowned but did as I asked. “Will you bring the neckline down, too?” She poked at the modest neckline Becca had insisted on.
“No.”
“But—”
I met her eyes and poured all my constrained anger into my gaze. “No means no, Misty,” I said quietly.
Misty blushed and shut her mouth, looking away from me.
“Can I get you something to drink, Mrs. Betty?” I asked.
“Thank you, Rose. Yes, I could go for some water.”
“I’d like some too.” Misty’s voice was tentative, but I was getting bolder.
I leaned in and whispered harshly. “Go suck somebody else’s cock, Misty.” That bitch widened her eyes, but she put her head down.
This kind of boldness could go to my head. So, I kept going as I grabbed a water for Mrs. Betty.
“I’m so sorry that you and Jason and your whole family went through all that. But Jason’s smart, and he has such a good heart. He’s accomplished so much in the past couple of years. He built this amazing home, he has a successful, thriving business—actually at least two businesses.” I handed Mrs. Betty her water bottle, then I sat on my little stool and went back to pinning Misty’s hem. “The gorgeous custom furniture he does locally plus all the hard work he puts into his social media accounts and online classes.”
“But what if it happens again?” she asked. “He’s always going to be my baby, and I can’t lose him. If I can just find him a girl from a good family—”
“Of course you want him to be happy. But my two cents—he’s got to pick the woman he loves, not you. Nobody can make that choice for someone else.” I snorted, lost in my work. “I mean, he can’t choose the vagina he came out of, but he can sure choose the one he comes into every night.”
Fuck.
I held my breath.
Mrs. Betty choked on her water. Misty frowned, her gaze directed off toward the wall.
My face went hot, and an apology to Mrs. Betty was on the tip of my tongue. But her shoulders were shaking. She was laughing. I smiled tentatively, and she laughed harder.
“Oh my goodness, the things you young girls say.” She patted her chest and coughed again, looking up toward the ceiling. “Did you girls know I got married in this church?”
“No, I didn’t realize,” I said.
Misty had apparently chosen not to speak again. Fine by me.
Mrs. Betty smiled and nodded, taking another drink. “A long time ago. I love what he’s done here. And I love church weddings. That’s what I want for all my babies. I feel so much closer to God in a beautiful church.”
“Really? No matter how heavenly churches are built, I feel closer to God outside in nature. Give me a wedding in a forest, or on the beach. Or at least a pretty gazebo in a garden. I can compromise. Spin around slowly?” I said to Misty. Leaning back, I eyed her hem for the full circuit and only had to adjust one pin. “You can change now. I don’t want to make you late to church.” I glared at her. “I know you have to get to confession.”
Misty scuttled off to change without a word as Mrs. Betty went on about how this church looked in her day. But I busied myself organizing my supplies, fighting tears. Just to fit in, I’d contributed my “give me a wedding in a forest” spiel to almost every conversation I’d ever been involved in regarding where weddings should be held. But it tasted different in my mouth today.
Walking up to Jason that day he took my pictures, him in that suit and me in that wedding gown—I kept pushing that memory down before my foolish heart got carried away, especially after his revelation the next morning. But I couldn’t deny how seeing him waiting for me by that stained glass window with awe on his face had made my insides magnetize to his smile. How utterly romantic taking those photos with him was. How passionately we made love after, lost in the world of each other. Our bodies and souls entwined. And then his ardent I love you the next morning while he twisted my fake rings.
I didn’t know about a wedding, but being with Jason made me start to want a marriage. A partnership like that…
No. It was a moot point, anyway. Not only was I not good enough for Jason’s mom, but he’d have to keep me his secret shame to make his dreams come true with StudFinders anyway. I would never be good enough for him.
And marriage wasn’t for me. Right?
No matter what, Jason would never be happy if he spent his life tiptoeing around his mom. Maybe he needed someone to remind him.
Jason
Somehow, I managed not to sit next to Misty during mass, and oddly enough, neither she nor Mom pushed it. I ignored her the whole time, all the way through mass and until I hugged Mom goodbye before she got in Misty’s car.
I stopped at the grocery on my way and came home with a bounty for our kitchen. I put everything away and headed back into the church to find Rose hunched over her sewing machine.
“Hey.” She glanced up at me and the vase of pink roses I set at the edge of her sewing table where it wouldn’t be in the way. I felt sick about how my mom treated her and having Misty in our home. I should’ve stood up for her.
I went up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. “I figured you must like roses.”
She patted my arm before returning her hand to her sewing machine. “You figured right. And you sprang for Lalumandier roses.”
“You’re worth more than fields of them,” I murmured, kissing down her neck.
“Pretty sure your mom wouldn’t agree.”
I completely deflated. “Rose—”
“Make sure you hide them before she comes back over.”
I pulled up a stool to sit close to her. “Can we talk about it?”
She sighed, setting her things down and finally meeting my eyes. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, really.”
“But I want to. You’re important to me.”
She rolled her eyes, but I took her hands in mine, rubbing her fingers. “You are! She can be such a chore, I know. But she’s my mom. You have to understand how badly I hurt her when I left.”
Rose closed her eyes and looked down, bit her lips.
“I barely talked to her for nearly two years. I was almost a different person. I promised her I’d never do that to her again, but it’s made her insecure. I made her insecure, and I’m still trying to make up for it.”
“I understand that, I do. And I would never, ever suggest that you hurt your mother. And I don’t want to cause distance between you. That being said, I think your pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction. Because what you’ve made her is certain that she can run your life and pick your wife.”
“She doesn’t really think that.”
“Beg to differ. She’s always disparaging your job, and now she’s pushing Fellatio Misty at you and not believing you about her? Loving your mom and not hurting her doesn’t mean never standing up for yourself. You’re a different person around her than you are around me.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah. You told me you don’t enjoy going to church anymore, but she talks you into it, so you go for show. You’re so quick to passionately talk about what you believe, unless she’s in the room. She brings someone who has repeatedly verbally, if not physically, assaulted you into your house, and you shut down and beg me to be nice. Well, I did my best. But it’s disrespectful of her to keep shoving Misty at you when you’ve told her to stop. And you just smile and nod, redirect her, or play along. You deserve to do better for yourself than that.”
“Rose, she’s my mom. What do you want me to do?”
“Be your own person. Disappoint your mother and let her see that you still love her, but she can survive it. Or she’ll expect you to live under her thumb for the rest of your life.”
A wall shot up around my heart hearing Kasey’s words come out of Rose’s mouth.
I pulled my hands away and stood up. I’d been through a lot. I needed her to be patient with me, not tell me what to do. “Have you had dinner?”
Her eyes widened. “Not yet.”
“I’ll go make something.” I stood and walked away. Maybe we both needed some space.
“Fergalicious” started playing from Rose’s phone. “Wait,” she called. “Heather says her dad had someone cancel, and the crane’s already nearby. He can have it here in a half-hour. Is that cool?”
“Yeah. Tell her thank you.” At least one thing’s going my way today. “Eat without me if you get hungry.” I turned to leave.
“My mom and Lily are coming over to help me with the dresses later. Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay.” My voice sounded aggravated. I cleared my throat and tried again. “You live here too. You don’t have to ask.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
As I walked toward the makeshift kitchen for a snack to hold me over, my heart sunk so low I practically kicked it across the community room. I royally fucked up. I fell in love with someone my mom didn’t approve of, and I was apparently too much of a coward to face her. It was Kasey all over again, except that Rose wasn’t trying to come between us, and Rose—
I froze with my hand on the fridge door handle. Was it that different? Kasey had never loved me. The thought left me desolate. I kept thinking she’d just fallen out of love, or we weren’t as compatible as I thought we were in the beginning. But no. She hadn’t loved me. Not really.
Was I holding back on telling Mom about us because I was afraid that Mom wouldn’t accept her, or because I was afraid that Rose would never love me?
I closed the fridge door and leaned my forehead against it.
What was so hard about me to love?
Aucoin Construction was my new favorite New Orleans business. Not only did they get the tree off the rectory, the men also stayed around to haul out the branches, debris, and molding mattresses from Rose’s bedroom and helped me nail plywood and a tarp on the busted-open roof.
Night had fully fallen by the time they left. After sweeping the last of the leaves from Rose’s bedroom and setting up dehumidifiers, I was starving and ready to take a shower and crash. But first I wanted Rose to go through her pile of stuff I set aside to see what she could salvage and what I had to trash, and I didn’t want to fix something to eat only for myself if she hadn’t eaten.
I washed my hands in the makeshift kitchen and grabbed a water bottle. I might never be able to drink enough to make up for what I sweat out today.
I checked my phone. It was nearly nine o’clock, and my stomach was about to eat its way out. As I approached the church, a trio of women’s laughter met my ears. I walked in and said hello to Ms. Dahlia and Lily, who were packing up.
“Oh hey, Jason!” Lily said. “Your house is amazing!”
Dahlia put her hand over her heart. “It’s stunning, Jason. You really have a gift. If I ever move into a bigger house, I know who I’m calling to help me renovate.”
“Thanks! I appreciate it.” I sat on the altar steps, guzzling water and trying to cool off.
“There’s some pizza left over, if you’re hungry.” Rose pointed toward the table where a couple boxes of Fat Boy’s Pizza sat.
“Oh God, yes.” I struggled to my feet. “Thank you.” I popped open the top box and gobbled a slice down in nearly three bites.
“Rose, honey, get some sleep. I’ll check on you tomorrow,” her mom said.
“And don’t forget to work on Mom’s sketches so we can pick dresses by Thursday.” Lily’s bossy tone didn’t sit right with me. “And I’ll help you stay on schedule to make sure you can get it all done.”
I grabbed another slice, but I didn’t want to sit on my chairs this dirty. I also didn’t want to be here for this conversation.
“Jesus, Lily, you don’t have to treat me like a to-do list. I’ll get Mom’s sketches done and make her dresses in time for her wedding, but on my timetable, not yours.”
“I just meant that—”
“Lily, let her do it on her time,” Dahlia said. “Rose, I trust you. Oh honey, I can’t believe we’ve been here all this time and haven’t asked you about Isaac. How are things going with him?”
“Oh that’s been over. Almost since I got back home.”
A chorus of “oh no!” and “I’m sorry!” from Lily and Dahlia.
“I mean I’m not surprised, though,” Lily said. “It must’ve been getting serious, for you to break things off.”
Ouch.
“Lily,” her mom chastised.
“Come on, Mom. That’s her MO! Let me guess. He told you he loved you? He saw a future with you more than two months out?”
“No, he was cheating on me. Is that an acceptable reason to break up, Lily, or should I have gotten your permission first?” Rose asked, her voice higher-pitched than normal.
Dahlia hugged Rose. “I’m so sorry, honey, you didn’t deserve that. Lily, apologize to your sister.”
Lily shrugged. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, but you can’t blame me. I can’t remember all the names of the men she’s dated and bailed on when things got serious.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to put Lily in her place, but that would be a shitty thing to do when I hadn’t even called my mom out. I couldn’t imagine Rose would appreciate it. I popped my last bite of pizza into my mouth. I should go straight and take a shower. But I was rooted to the spot. Why was Lily being so mean, and right in front of me? Did she treat her worse when they were alone?
“Are you seeing anyone new yet?” her mom asked. “You’re taking care of yourself, though, right?” She said that more quietly, but sounds traveled in this church. “That bag of toys didn’t get destroyed in the hurricane, did it?”
“MOM,” Rose balked while Lily cackled.
“Rose,” Lily started, “I’m going to need your full sexual history, solo and partnered, with dates, times, and toys used.” Lily’s voice had taken on the deeper tone of their mother, who then started laughing as Rose muttered an “Oh my God.”
“Lily, you know that’s not what I’m after. I just want my girls to be happy and fulfilled.”
I waved my hand on my way into the hallway toward the community center. “Y’all have a good night!” And I went straight to our makeshift shower, washing away the heat of the day and the emotions in my chest. They shouldn’t have said those things in front of me. But also, does Rose really date someone until things get serious, then dump them?
That wasn’t what happened with Isaac, but maybe I’m lucky she didn’t bolt the second I said, “I love you.” She still hadn’t said it back.
How would I move on if she broke up with me? I couldn’t bring myself to evict her. I’d have to watch other men go in and out of that apartment until she moved out on her own.
I put my head under the cool water, but it couldn’t untangle the knots in my chest.