Chapter Twenty-Two
JAKE
I love waking up to Abbie lying on my chest. Having her body pressed against mine, the scent of her hair tickling my nose. This morning is especially satisfying as we’re both naked, and I can feel every inch of her smooth skin.
“How do you feel?” I murmur, running my fingers along her bare shoulder.
Looking up at me, Abbie smiles sleepily. “Good, a little sore from last night, but in the most delicious way.”
I chuckle. “I’m glad. I want you to think of me whenever you move today and feel an ache anywhere on your body.”
She giggles. “You sound like a little bit of a sadist.”
Kissing her forehead, I reply, “Oh, no. I just want to always be on your mind.”
That makes her laugh outright, but before I can fully appreciate the sound, my phone starts going off. Frowning, I reach for it on the nightstand and let out a frustrated groan when I see messages coming in from my mom.
Shit. I was hoping to avoid this for a little while longer, but it was really just a matter of time before she figured out I was back.
I open the texts and look through them and am not at all surprised by their angry tone.
Mom: Why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?
Mom: Do you know how embarrassing it was to hear about it from someone else? It’s all anyone seems to talk about!
Mom: You don’t even come visit? You’re supposed to be helping your siblings!
Mom: You think you’re so high and mighty because you’re a rich hockey player and don’t need to think of your family anymore? Is that it?
Mom: I can’t believe how selfish you are.
“Damn it,” I mutter. Glancing at Abbie, I see that she’s reading the messages as well. She’s frowning, her eyes narrowed. She looks surprised, which I suppose makes sense given that I’ve always kept just how shitty my mom and Kevin treat me pretty close to the chest.
“Wow, she’s angry, huh?” She wraps her arms around me. “Tell you what. Why don’t you say to her that we’ll come over?”
I blink at her. She’s willing to do that even after seeing these texts?
“Are you sure?”
She smiles and shrugs, which makes the blankets around her shift and I’m momentarily distracted by the sight of her breasts squished against my chest. “Yeah, why not? Dad wanted to keep Lilah today anyway, so we’ve got the time.”
I hesitate a moment, torn. Part of me wants to spare her the drama, but I really don’t want to go see them alone. Still, I shake my head.
“You really don’t have to. My home life really isn’t pleasant. You won’t have a good time, trust me.”
“I want to,” she insists. “Besides, it’s the least I can do given everything you’re doing for me.”
There’s a part of me that wants to continue to keep her in the dark.
Not to expose her to what my family really is like, the way I have been for so long with all my friends.
But there’s another part of me, a much stronger part, that craves her support, no matter how selfish that may be.
In the end, that side wins out. “All right. We’ll go see them.
I’ve got to warn you, though. The years have not made my mom and stepdad any kinder. ”
“Don’t worry, I can hold my own,” she assures me. “Catch me up on your family so I’m better prepared for this.”
I brush my fingers along her cheek, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“James is the oldest, twenty-four, and works in finance in Boston. Riley is twenty-one and plays football for Boston University. Kimmy and Wren are the first set of twins and eighteen and are in their freshmen year at Emerson. The other twins, Ben and David, are fifteen, then there’s Valerie who’s thirteen, and Georgie is the youngest at ten. ”
I feel a stab of pain in my chest as I talk about my siblings.
I used to help take care of them all, and we were actually pretty close until I left for college and then continued straight into the NHL.
The older kids felt like I abandoned them and kind of turned on me — no doubt with some help from Kevin — but Valerie and Georgie still like me.
It’s just been hard trying to figure out how to explain to the others how difficult it was for me growing up as the odd man out in our family. I’m not sure I could really make them understand.
Abbie lets out a long whistle. “Holy shit, when you list them all out like that…just thinking about having all those kids make my hoo-haa hurt.”
Laughing, I catch her lips in a kiss, but in the back of my head, I can’t help but think that this is a bad idea.
The house looks the same as it always does.
It’s a two-story white Colonial with a gabled roof, blue shutters, and a red door framed by decorative pilasters.
The yard is neatly trimmed with flowering shrubs along the base of the house.
A brick walkway leads to the front door, with its elegant brass knocker.
I don’t feel the sense of connection or hominess I probably should feel for this place—coming back, I always just have this sense of being disconnected from it all. Like I’m not really wanted here.
Abbie and I pause as we approach the door. I suck in a deep breath, fortifying myself for what’s to come.
“Break a leg.” Abbie smiles, punching me in the shoulder.
I smile back. “I mean, you say that enough and it’ll actually happen. Hockey players do break their legs all the time.”
“I’m a nurse. I’ll take care of you.” She lifts my hand, and pushes my finger closer to the doorbell. “Let’s do it.
“Okay.” I eye her up and down — she’s gorgeous, dressed in a blue sundress with a belted waist and square neckline — and ring the doorbell.
The door opens within moments and we’re face-to-face with my mom. Instantly, I feel uncomfortable again. She’s a petite woman with a bob of brown hair the same shade as mine, but green eyes instead of blue — two small glaring emeralds.
Mom stares up at me, not smiling, and sighs. “Finally. I was starting to think you wouldn’t show. Come in.”
She doesn’t even acknowledge Abbie and turns to go back into the house. Abbie and I exchange a glance before we cross the threshold.
We follow Mom down the hall to the kitchen, a large space with white cabinets and a large, gas-burning stove and oven. A giant island sits in the middle of the room and has different ingredients and dishes spread out across it.
Mom points to a cutting board with potatoes piled in a bowl next to it.
“Start chopping those,” she says. “It’ll just be the four of us tonight. Ben and David have an away basketball game, and Valerie and Georgie are spending the night at friends’ houses.”
I don’t bother to ask if any of them even know I’m here tonight. Kevin doesn’t like them to be around me — I think he’s jealous of how involved I was in their childhoods, and he doesn’t want them to think of me as a positive male role-model over him.
I’m actually pretty pissed. She didn’t even say hello to Abbie, what the hell? But Abbie — while she does look stunned — pushes me forward. Sighing, I pick up the knife and start chopping potatoes.
“Anything I can help with, Mrs. Williams?” Abbie asks.
Mom looks up at her with pursed lips, acting as if she hadn’t noticed Abbie was even here until this moment.
“You could toss the salad, I suppose,” Mom says. “I’d think even one of Jake’s girls is capable of that much.”
I shoot Mom a glare. “Be nice. Abbie isn’t just some girl, Mom.”
Waving her hand dismissively, Mom turns to the stove and the sauce she has cooking. “Whatever you say.”
I grit my teeth and struggle to keep my temper in check. We just have to get through dinner. That’s all.
I can make it through dinner.
We continue to work in tense silence, helping Mom prepare the meal.
Abbie stays close to my side and I can sense how upset she’s getting observing my interactions with Mom.
She’s trying not to show it, though; she swings her hips into me at one point and smiles, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work, but I appreciate it.
Things only get more awkward when my stepdad arrives home.
From the second that Kevin lumbers in, the spite he carries everywhere with him is all-too-visible.
Kevin is about as tall as me, with thick gray hair and golden brown eyes.
He thinks he’s hot shit and can’t seem to pass up a chance to remind me that I’m not really his son.
He peers at Abbie, then me, and huffs loudly.
“Glad to see you could make time for us,” he says in a biting tone. “Pretty disrespectful of your mother to wait so long to see you.”
“Hello to you too, Kevin,” I spit out as I collect plates and silverware to take to the dining room.
He moves past me and Abbie to give my mom a kiss.
“Hi, honey,” she says, granting him a bright, genuine smile. “How was your day?”
“Exhausting,” he tells her. “Where are the kids?”
“Ball games and sleepovers.”
And right fucking here in front of you.
Turning, I walk out of the kitchen to the dining room, Abbie close behind me.
“Are you okay?” she asks in a soft voice as we start to set the table.
“I’m fine.” I force a half-smile to try and ease her mind. “Really, I’m used to it.”
She furrows her brow and shoots a glare toward the kitchen door.
“Well I’m not,” she hisses. “They’re being assholes.”
I chuckle. “Yes. Yes they are. Don’t worry. As soon as dinner’s over, we’ll leave.”
God, this is fucking embarrassing. This is why I never brought any of my friends around when we were kids — I didn’t want them to see how pathetic I really am for putting up with this treatment.
For holding onto the miniscule hope that maybe if I’m helpful enough, successful enough, my family will actually decide to give a shit about me.
Mom and Kevin come out of the kitchen a few minutes later with the food and we all sit down to eat. Before I’ve even taken my first bite, they immediately launch into talking about my siblings and everything they’re up to.
“Riley is one of the top football players at BU,” Kevin declares with obvious pride. “We were able to make just about every game he played this past season.”