30. Whitney
30
WHITNEY
L iam and I spend the rest of the weekend entertaining Andy. He’s got major tourist energy, and even though he’s been to New York a few times, he’s never been to the Statue of Liberty, so on Saturday we get dumplings in Chinatown before catching the ferry. After that, we get pizza and see a Broadway show.
Liam can’t keep his hands off me, and I am not complaining.
I don’t know if it’s because we’re in front of his dad and he wants to keep up the pretense, or if it’s from our agreement last night, but his hands keep finding mine as we walk. On the ferry, he wrapped his arms around me and held me against his chest, resting his head over mine. While we watched the show, he held my hand for the entire performance.
I can’t get enough.
I’ve also learned that Andy is a great listener. He spends all weekend asking me about myself. Even when I try to skirt a question or toss the attention onto Liam, Andy is relentless, genuinely interested in All Rhodes, my family, my friends, where I went to college, and most importantly, which couple I’m rooting for on Love Island . Liam interjects occasionally with follow-up questions.
Outside of the theater on Saturday night, Liam tugged on my arm and pulled me close to him.
“I’ve learned so much about you today. I didn’t realize that I don’t ask you many questions about yourself.”
I shrugged, brushing him off, but he brought his hand up to my cheek, cupping it.
“I’ll be better about that. I want to know everything about you.”
Needless to say, between Liam’s soft touches and thoughtful words, the phrase no strings attached has been ringing in my head all weekend like a taunt.
“What a day,” Andy says on Sunday night when we get back to the apartment. “I’m exhausted.”
Liam beelines for the bathroom while I grab a La Croix from the fridge. I put the kettle on, assuming that Liam and his dad will want tea.
“What was your favorite part of the weekend, Andy?” I ask as I prepare their drinks.
“I think it’s a tie between one-dollar pizza and those dumplings… or maybe that Ethiopian brunch we got today.”
“So, just the food, then?”
He chuckles, then his gaze turns serious. “Truthfully, the best part of the trip has been getting to know you. It’s wonderful to see Liam happy. I’m proud to call you my daughter-in-law.”
I’m hit with a pang of longing. I never knew my own father, so hearing Andy say that he’s proud to call me his daughter-in-law, well… it has tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
“Thank you,” I say, gratitude shining in my voice. “That means a lot, Andy.”
Liam comes back into the room. Perhaps sensing the energy in the room, he glances from me to his dad with vague suspicion. “Everything okay?”
I nod and slide his tea over to him. “Yep.”
“I was just telling Whitney how lovely it’s been getting to know her and how excited I am for you two. Young, in love, the whole world at your fingertips.”
Liam doesn’t reply, but he locks eyes with me as I cross the room to give Andy his tea, his expression unreadable.
“I don’t feel like cooking, so I was gonna order takeout. How does sushi sound?” Liam asks.
“Good with me,” I croak out.
The food arrives almost an hour later, and we settle in the dining room with a bottle of white wine as Liam pulls out enough sushi to feed a small army.
“Liam,” I groan, pouring Andy some wine. “How much did you get?”
He shrugs. “Didn’t know what everyone liked.”
Liam reaches for the spicy salmon rolls, about to pop one in his mouth, when Andy stills his movements.
“Before we eat, I just wanted to say thank you Whitney for letting me stay with you and for putting up with my son.”
“Thanks for the glowing praise,” Liam deadpans.
Andy pushes on. “Just feeling a bit grateful right now. I know things have been hard, Li, and I’m sorry I can’t make that better for you, but you know what? I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Whitney, and I think that’s something to celebrate.”
He lifts his glass to cheers, and I follow suit, willing my hand to stop shaking. Andy’s sentimentality is a crushing pressure on our fragile dynamic; Liam and I are dancing on a line that is disappearing beneath our feet, and it’s terrifying.
“To Whitney and Liam, and your new life together. I only wish Luke were here to see it.”
Liam swallows, the sound seeming to echo in the silence following Andy’s words. I study him, worry crashing through me. Liam lifts his glass, then knocks it back, finishing half in one gulp.
“Thank you, Andy,” I manage, taking a sip of my own wine.
We’re about to dig in when the door buzzer goes off, indicating someone is downstairs. My gaze flickers to the door.
“We expecting someone?” Liam asks, looking at me.
I shake my head. “Not that I know of.”
I cross over to the front door to look at the camera. When I see the person tapping their foot impatiently, my heart drops.
My mother.
What is she doing here?
The buzzer sounds again, jolting me.
“Who is it?” Liam asks from the dining room.
My throat tightens. She’s done this before. Showed up out of the blue and crashed on my couch. We usually end up arguing the whole time and then she’ll ask me for money and slip out in the middle of the night.
How do I play this? It’s not like I can just ignore her or send her away.
“It’s my mom,” I hear myself say.
“What?” Liam responds.
“Wow, our first joint family meal!” Andy exclaims.
“I’ll go down and get her,” I say, reaching for my shoes.
Liam crosses the room and stands in front of me. He lowers his head, dropping his voice. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “She’s a wildcard. Sometimes she just shows up like this. Shit.”
Liam drops his hand over mine, bringing my eyes up to his. “Hey, it’s alright. Take a deep breath.”
I do as he says, inhaling and exhaling, reveling in the feeling of us breathing together. It reminds me of our flight to Vegas
“I’ll be right back,” I say, squeezing his hand in gratitude.
As I descend the stairs, I try to figure out what to say to my mom. What the hell is she even doing here? I should be used to her showing up like this by now, but her timing could not be worse. I open the door to the building, finding her leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“Peanut!” She drops the cigarette on the floor and throws her arms around me. “I had to come. You drop the bomb that you’re married and don’t expect me to come?” She eyes the stairwell. “You gonna let me in or what?”
Sighing, I hold the door open and lead her upstairs. “We’re right in the middle of dinner. Liam’s dad is here,” I tell her.
“Who’s Liam?”
I swallow. “My husband. Liam.”
The words still feel strange on my lips, like they can’t be real. Somewhere though, underneath that strange feeling, there’s a warmth at the way it feels to claim Liam as mine.
I bring Caroline upstairs, and the next few minutes involve awkward introductions and forced laughter. I’m almost thankful that Andy is here because his positive attitude and chattiness seems to be keeping this conversation alive. Liam is cordial but quiet as the four of us eat sushi together.
It doesn’t take long for my mom to start drinking. She’s telling Andy stories about being on the road, and they aren’t the most dinner-table appropriate. Every time I try to direct the conversation to something safe, my mom ignores me . Liam is no help. He’s more reserved than usual, staring down at his plate, his jaw locked.
When my mom spills her soy sauce on Andy’s pants and offers to “clean it up”, it’s the final straw. Unable to take it any longer, I push my chair back and stand. “Mom, can I talk to you for a minute in the other room?”
She turns to me, surprised. “Sure thing, peanut.”
“Excuse us for one minute,” I say, avoiding Liam’s gaze. I can feel his eyes on me as I stomp down the hall to my room, my mom trailing behind me. I let her in and take a deep breath, closing the door.
“What are you doing?”
She blinks at me. “What? What’s wrong, nut?”
I shake my head. “You’re being flirty and inappropriate. Andy is married, mom,”
She shrugs, rolling her eyes at me. “Lots of supposedly married people ‘round here. Pretty silly if you ask me.”
I will myself to stay calm, not wanting to get into a full-on screaming match with Liam and his father right down the hall. “If you’re talking about me and Liam, just leave it alone.”
“Come on, baby. You can do better than a bartender. I know my taste in men is shit, but I thought you had high standards.”
“Since when do you care about my love life? Or about me at all, for that matter?”
She shakes her head. “Of course I care about you. If you hadn’t hung up on me last time we talked, you’d know that.”
Here it comes. The guilt trip. Everything is my fault and nothing is her fault. That’s always how it goes, and worst of all, I used to fall for it when I was younger. I would have done anything to please her.
Now, I couldn’t care less.
“That boy in there has barely said a word since I walked in. He didn’t even ask my permission to marry you!”
“Permission?” I scoff. “What is this, 1955?”
My mom crosses her arms. “My point is this whole thing is so rushed, and I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did?—”
“Mom! Stop, okay? Just stop. Liam is my husband. He is kind and considerate and thoughtful. He respects my boundaries, and he listens to me. You don’t have to like him, but if you continue to criticize our relationship, I will ask you to leave.”
My mom stills, shock coloring her features at my words. “Fine.” She smacks her lips. “Just don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face. Trust me, it always does.”
The hurt in my mom’s voice almost breaks through my armor, my wall between us that keeps me safe. I know she’s only coming at me because of her own romantic insecurities, but it doesn’t mean I have to stand here and take it.
“Don’t worry about that. When have I ever been able to come to you when I needed help?”
Silence settles in the room, the emptiness swallowing my whole.
My mom pushes past me and opens the door to reveal Liam standing in the doorway. She storms out, not bothering with an apology. Liam doesn’t follow her movements. His gaze is locked onto me. Turning away from him, I let out a shaky breath, the fight coming out of me. I sit on the edge of my bed and the tears start strolling down my face before I can stop them. Liam crosses towards me, coming down to the floor in front of me. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to stop the tears, but I can’t.
“Whit,” he says, sounding pained. He presses the pads of his thumbs to my cheeks, wiping my tears. “Please don’t cry.”
I open my eyes, meeting his steady gaze. “Did you hear all of that?”
“Most of it, yeah.”
I sniffle and let out a watery laugh. “I’m sorry she said all that about you. She’s always been like that. Just… judgmental.”
He thumbs my cheeks again, cupping my face with both his hands. “Thank you for defending me,” he whispers. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the expression on his face or the soft caress of his fingers on my skin, but something about this moment makes me want to forget that wall. Forget the protections built up around my heart. Forget our no-strings bullshit.
“I meant every word.”
He brushes his thumb across my lip, his gaze flickering down to my mouth. I’m sure he’s going to kiss me, but instead, he lets his hand drop. I try to hide my disappointment, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve.
“Come on,” he nudges me. “Let’s go back out there. We can deal with it together.”
He wraps his hand in mine and pulls me forward, back to our dysfunctional family dinner.
Together.