Chapter 41
forty-one
PARKER
Mother never explained her social calls. She merely demanded to speak and met me in town. While Astrid and I observed our students completing a stats problem set, she rang. I sent her to voicemail. Then, she texted. As our students finished their group exercise, I read the text.
Mum
I’m in Shalestone
Parker
Okay. I’m teaching right now.
Mum
Meet me for lunch at Martell’s
Parker
I have plans.
Those plans mainly involved staring at Astrid while we took combined office hours in the department lounge. I wondered how many people guessed what we were up to these days. Staring at her while I edited my dissertation was one of my favourite pastimes. Sometimes, she’d put a pen in her mouth while typing, which I found incredibly sexy. But, mostly, she had me feeling like a hormonal schoolboy. I blamed letting her sleep over at mine for that. It made a difference to wake up next to her.
Mum
I need to speak to you about matters with the estate
It’s your job, Parker!!!
Parker
Mum, calm down. Could you not ring me?
Mum
I DID!
Parker
Fine. I will meet you but I don’t have long. After office hours.
Our students handed in their assignments. I’d mark them during the office hours no one would attend. Astrid crashed next to me. I focused as she crossed her legs, uncrossed them, and re-crossed them. Amara rang her, and they discussed their weekend plans. Astrid fidgeted and chewed on her pen. All I could think about was burying my face in her pussy and making her scream. Ignoring her tormented me.
She hung up and turned back. “You want to grab a coffee after this?”
“Nah. I have lunch plans. Related to the estate,” I said.
“Oh, okay. Later?” Astrid whispered.
“Uh-huh,” I said.
She left. I texted her immediately.
Parker
Want to snog you like a desperate teenager
Astrid
I could tell
Parker
Do I need to do better?
Astrid
It’s painfully obvious but I adore it
I’d do my best to keep that going. Maybe it was evident that I was obsessed with her, but I didn’t care. It had been so long since a woman made me feel adoration wasn’t a waste. Astrid was so easy to fall for. She was beautiful, clever, and game. I was having far too much fun.
Putting that aside, I reported to the cafe and found my mother ordered her meal without waiting. It was typical—I was but a mere impediment. She stood only to give me a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. Everything maternal about my mother came from a place of obligation. I sat opposite her, trying not to look cross.
“What do you do these days?”
“Work on my thesis. Teach. Dodge questions about what happens after I graduate, mother.”
“You will return home to run the estate.”
“Yes, mother,” I sighed.
I dreaded it and knew we could hire someone to manage it—probably better than I could. Maybe it would turn over less money, but we already had more than one family that deserved it. I wanted to live an everyday, happy life rather than one consumed by society’s expectations. Mother was here to turn the knife.
“Do you go out? Do anything? No girlfriend?”
“I am seeing someone, actually,” I said. “And before you ask, no, you are not about to meet her. She’s lovely—clever, pretty, and well-bred—so she ticks all your boxes. Leave it there.”
“All of that, and you tell me nothing?”
“Yes.”
The beautiful bit about being the Duke was that you owed no one an explanation. Everything my mother held dear remained in my hands. While I’d never be cruel, she knew how far she could and could not tread. I sensed she needed something.
“Carolyn is engaged. ”
I nearly fell over. “What? Why?”
“Carolyn is engaged.”
“Mum, she’s twenty-two!”
The same age as Astrid. That thought was hypocritical but also sickening. Carolyn was hardly mature enough to wed.
“Big summer wedding, yes. She and Fredrick are quite happy.”
“Is she… pregnant?”
“No! Parker, that is awful !”
“Who gets married at twenty-two?”
“She’ll be twenty-three soon.”
“What do you need?” I sighed.
“We have a planner, and your sister is sourcing a dress. But… we need a budget.”
“Have them draw up a budget, and I will run it by the accountant,” I said.
“Parker, it’s the event of the season potentially?—”
“And that’s fine, but there is a budget. Fred’s parents are wealthy. They can pick up the slack if they want more than I can grant.”
“Parker Zachary!”
I set my jaw, annoyed. “Mother, this is Carolyn’s wedding, and I will be generous. However, there will be a budget. Let me know how I can assist. That is all.”
I stood, done with the conversation. I had no time for this. It was all just an act of pulling me back to guilt me. Every decision was the wrong one. A walking chequebook, I had no power. I threw money on the table and left. Mother didn’t make a scene because she knew better. I returned to my place, trying to calm down rather than burst into anger.
Why didn’t Mother accept the decisions that were mine to make? Moreover, why did she only show up when she needed me to bankroll something—and only in the way she wanted it? This wasn’t love. It was transactional. More and more, Astrid showed up for me more than anyone else. She might rib me, and sometimes we might row over something stupid, but at least she got what it was like to have a fucked-up family. Yet, telling her anything felt like dumping. I didn’t think we were there yet. We weren’t even officially dating. I had to hold my feelings in.