Chapter 12 Rae #2
“So, you guys know him pretty well then?” I toyed with one of the magnets on the fridge, my eyes going toward the photo of a man hiking up Mount Macon.
“Yeah, we’ve gotten pretty close…” my dad said, biting into a piece of toast.
I eyed the photo once more, already knowing that person wasn’t either one of my parents. I pointed at the picture, “This is him, isn’t it?”
“That was two winters ago. We went Christmas tree hunting up there, but that image right there, I just loved how he looked at the mountain—like it was a friend instead of a foe, or something to be afraid of. He taught us how to listen to the mountain, how to safely be on it, and how to respect it.”
More pinching sensations took root along my lungs. Anger surged like an ugly storm head, battering all my logical sense away, turning me into a petty teenager again.
“Yet, he’s never come here, until the other night for dinner?” I raised a brow. “Sounds like a one-sided relationship to me.”
“You just don’t know him, sweetie,” my dad chided, and the pull in my center threatened to detonate. They’d never known of my obsession with Davis; they never knew how madly in love with him I was, or what a fool I had made of myself.
I’d grown accustomed to not telling my mother and father things, and Davis had fallen under that umbrella. They were always missing big cues where I was concerned, and it hurt like hell that they’d gone and adopted the one man on the planet that had hurt me so badly.
“Well, I find this entire relationship ridiculous…and I didn’t have a very good interaction with him yesterday.
” I wanted to set my father up for failure with the way I worded my statement.
I wanted him to admit that he’d set me up.
Maybe I was looking for a reason for them not to want me, to send me back to roach-infested New York with a new chip on my shoulder.
Fuck, I needed to go back to therapy.
My dad’s eyes narrowed. “Well it must not have been that terrible if he drove all the way here on his motorcycle, in the rain.”
His implication was clear—Davis had risked his life just to follow me home. My anger split me in half like a log, forcing my voice to break.
“He wouldn’t have had to drive me home if I hadn’t gone up there in the first place! You played me, Dad.”
My father’s shuttered expression made me feel as though I had gone too far, but I was hurt over their lack of involvement with my life, only to stick their nose in it at the worst possible time.
“Sweetheart,” Dad said softly, right as my mother’s expression caved.
“What are you talking about?”
At least she wasn’t in on it.
I shook my head and walked through the kitchen, my molars clenched tight as I worked to wrangle my frustration.
“Dad told Davis to place the order, but leave his name off the ticket, so I didn’t know who I was delivering to. Then, I don’t know…told him to flirt with me, or whatever else. Essentially, get me comfortable enough to want to stay here in Macon.”
I glared at my father and added, “I heard you last night, talking in the garage.”
My mother’s eyes flicked to my dad’s for a brief second before they landed back on me.
“Are you not wanting to stay?”
Fuck, that’s not what I wanted to slip, or for them to hear. It didn’t sound right.
I backpedaled. “No, of course I want to stay, but Dad seems to be worried that I don’t and roped Davis into helping.”
“Rae, honey…” My mom moved to come after me, but tears clogged my eyes as embarrassment flushed my face.
I was so angry about the interaction with Davis, about not knowing that he was the client I was delivering to.
It all hurt too much, and I couldn’t tell them about any of it because then they’d want to know why.
And why was she coming for me, and not yelling at my dad?
“I’m fine…but I can’t believe he did that and—”
Strong arms wrapped around me, crushing me in a warm hug. My words cut off abruptly, and as another set of large arms wrapped around my back, I realized I didn’t need to say anything more.
My dad’s voice rasped into my hair. “I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted you to be friends. I thought you could use an extra one. I’m so sorry, honey.”
A burning sensation blazed behind my eyes as I worked to hold back tears, but it was useless.
“Don’t give up on us, sweetheart. Just understand that we’re trying, and we love you so much.”
Who were these people? I hadn’t ever felt so loved and protected in my entire life. Where was all this support when I wanted them to come and visit me, or when I had graduated? The hurt I had used to guard my walls where they were concerned started to crack. Ever so slowly.
And for once, I welcomed the break.
That afternoon, as I was helping at the diner, trying to nurse my wounded ego, Carl popped into view, which reminded me that it wasn’t just my father who seemed to be in on the delivery scam with Davis.
Seeing Carl haul a box of fresh blueberries from the back, I waited for him to set them down and then inclined my head for him to follow.
Following me out, his big, burly presence was like a wall of solid brick as we hedged near the trunk of my car.
“How come you didn’t warn me about that delivery?” I asked evenly, wanting to hear what he had to say before volunteering that my dad had set me up.
His eyes narrowed. “I thought you knew!”
I shook my head vigorously. “No, I had no clue!”
“Sorry, String Bean…I never would have sent you up there without a little warning.”
I had to remind myself that my father wouldn’t have either, if he’d known what sort of past I had with the grump up on the mountain. A few seconds of silence stretched as stray leaves clustered around my car tire, and Carl’s eyes searched the pile of debris.
“Did you see that another order came in from him?”
“Seriously?” The nerve of that man, after he’d told my father that he didn’t want to deal with me, that I was too far gone. A lost cause. He was spoiled enough to assume that I’d just rush back up there and play delivery service? Fat fucking chance.
“Here.” Carl handed me a phone. “This is the employee phone where orders come through; you can respond to his order with a red X and leave a note why you’re not able to fulfill it.” I loved that this man already knew I wasn’t planning on taking his order, and that I didn’t have to explain.
Taking the sleek cell phone in my hand, I smiled as I stared down at the screen. This would do perfectly—anything to send a message to Davis that he didn’t call the shots anymore, and no one would be catering to him, least of all, my parents. Or me.