15. Teddy
CHAPTER 15
TEDDY
Vanessa: Why was there a knock on my door and when I opened it there was a bag of clothes from NORDSTROM sitting there?
I can tell from her capitalization of the store that she’s ticked off, but…
Me: It’s just some clothes for brunch tomorrow. You can pick what you want and return the rest or keep them all. I don’t care.
Vanessa: I don’t need you to shop for me.
I sigh from inside my car where I haven’t even pulled away from her dorm yet.
Me: I know you don’t, but I figured chicks like clothes, and it would make it easier for you.
I’m not making any sense, but I don’t want to tell her that I did it because I can see the worry on her face every time I pick her up. Worry that her clothes aren’t good enough for my parents, that she’s not enough. I mean, it’s always possible I’ve made a grave assumption, but I’ve seen the way she plays uncomfortably with her clothes in their presence, eyeing the ones on her body and then the ones they wear.
Vanessa: I can pick out my own clothes, Theodore.
Me: Still not my name no matter how many times you try to act like it is. A smile of amusement plays on my lips.
Me: Take them all back. I don’t care.
And I don’t. I don’t give a shit what Vanessa wears, but I just want her to feel comfortable, well as much as she can in the presence of my father.
She doesn’t reply right away so I pull away from her dorm and drive to Mascen’s townhome, parking in the driveway.
Somehow, even after swearing I’d never do it again, I agreed to run with him.
I think I agreed just because of his endless taunting of telling me I’ve gotten slow in my old age. As if I’m old . The fucker is jealous because clearly, I’m the better looking one of the two of us.
Getting out, I close the door to my car and lock up when another text from Vanessa finally comes through.
Vanessa: You’ve already done enough for me with my tuition. Anything else is too much.
I stare at the message for a moment before I type out my reply.
Me: Nothing is too much. Keep the clothes. Please .
I don’t wait to see if she replies. After tightening my shoelaces, I ring the doorbell and wait for Mascen to join me.
He steps out, ready to go, wearing his usual dick-headed smirk.
“Ready?” He arches a brow.
“Prepare to get your ass whooped.”
He chuckles. “It’s cute you think you can keep up with me.”
If you’d told me this morning I’d be puking my guts up in a bush after Mascen pushed me into a ten mile run, I wouldn’t have shown up. The bastard knows too as he cackles from the light post he leans against.
“Told you that you needed to start running with me. This is pathetic.”
“We play baseball,” I groan. “I need to know how to sprint, not run long distances.”
“It helps with endurance.” He claps a hand on my back, laughing when I get sick again.
There’s absolutely nothing left in my stomach, and if he thinks I’m actually going to make a routine of this he’s wrong.
“You’re worse than Coach.”
“Someone has to toughen you up,” he taunts, using the bench nearby to stretch his legs.
“I’m plenty tough.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, hating the taste of bile on my tongue but there’s nothing I can do about it at the moment.
He finishes stretching and we walk the last few blocks back to his townhome.
“See you later.” I unlock my car, heading for the driver’s side.
“Whoa, whoa, not so fast,” he chants after me, and I glance over my shoulder at him. He leans his hip against the back of my car, and I narrow my eyes at the spot where his flesh meets metal.
“Get your grubby body away from my car.”
He rolls his eyes at my dramatics. “All I want to say is, don’t be a pussy and give up after today. Meet me at the park tomorrow morning at five.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You better mean five in the evening,” I warn, eyes narrowed to slits.
He laughs uproariously, stroking his fingers lovingly against the cobalt blue paint of my car. “That’s real cute, Theodore.”
“Not Theodore,” I taunt. “I’ve been telling all of you that since freshman year.”
“Whatever,” he guffaws, walking toward the garage. “See you in the morning.”
“No, you won’t because I’m not coming.”
He laughs and laughs and he’s still laughing when I get in my car and back away.
Stupid bastard knows I’ll show up, because I hate letting people down.
I smooth my navy-blue tie down against my dry cleaned pale blue oxford and then slip my arms into my dark blue suit jacket. I’m sure my father will scoff at the varying shades of blue in my attire, but I don’t give a fuck.
Making sure my suit and everything is perfectly in place, not a hair on my head sticking in a wrong direction, I step out of my room, already prepared for Jude’s reaction.
He leans back on the sofa, a game playing in the background on the TV, and starts laughing as soon as he lays eyes on me.
Arms up, I spin in a circle, giving him every angle. “All right, all right. Get it out now.”
“Where the hell are you going?” He rubs a hand over his heavily stubbled jaw. The guy looks like he hasn’t seen a razor in at least a week.
I reach down and swipe a bottle of my Zombie Dust from the table in front of the couch and drain it, leveling him with a glare while I do. “Don’t touch my beer,” I warn.
It’s an empty threat. He steals my beer all the time, and I never do anything about it. It’s annoying, sure, but there are worse things in the world. Doesn’t mean I don’t like fucking with him.
“You didn’t answer.” He glides his fingers through his brown hair, waiting for me to reply.
“Some stupid brunch at the country club my parents own.”
“Sounds like hell.”
“Hell would be more fun and certainly warmer.”
He chuckles, already focused on the TV again. “Good luck with that.”
I’ll need more than luck, but I don’t say that to him.
Straightening my collar, I send a text to Vanessa that I’m on my way to her dorm.
When I pull up, this time she’s waiting out front, having beaten me to meeting her at her door.
I park and hop out before she has a chance to reach the passenger door, opening it smoothly for her and taking a deep, dramatic bow. “For milady.”
She rolls her eyes playfully at me and pushes her hand against my shoulder in a lighthearted gesture as she lowers into the car. She’s wearing one of the dresses I bought her—well, I had a personal stylist pull them after I described what I felt like Vanessa liked most and vetoed anything I knew she wouldn’t like. The green and white dress hugs her body, emphasizing her assets, and I have to silently chant to myself not to stare at her tits.
All the months of celibacy might be catching up to me, because my dick stirs to life, straining against my pants.
“What should I expect today?” She voices as soon as I’m behind the wheel.
I blow out a breath, putting the car in reverse. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m assuming this is a fundraiser of some sort, so mostly it’ll be my father parading me—and now you—around while he bullshits about what a great son I am and how close we are. My mom will consume enough mimosas that by the time brunch is actually served, she’ll be completely wasted.” I take a breath, feeling the weight and strain in my shoulders from the burden of being a part of my own family. “Everyone there will be ridiculously wealthy. You’ll probably see a few well-known musicians, politicians, and who the hell knows who else might show.” I give a shrug, merging onto the highway.
When I glace at Vanessa, she’s staring at me open-mouthed. I notice for the first time that her hair is pinned up in a bun, a few hairs framing her face.
“What?” I ask, paying attention to the road, slamming my hand onto my horn when a driver tries to cut me off.
“Is my girl Taylor Swift going to be there?”
I snort. “Doubtful. Most of the musicians are the old type.”
“What a tragedy.” She looks out the passenger window.
It’s quiet for a few minutes between us, but I can’t stand the silence for a full hour, so I rack my brain for more questions to ask her.
“Is there any sort of stuffed animal or blanket or something you’ve had since you were a baby?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice her head whip in my direction at the random question. Body relaxing into the leather seat, she sighs, “No. You?”
I rub my lips with my right hand, trying to hide a smile. “A blanket actually. It looks more like a rag now than a blanket.”
She laughs lightly. “And where is it?”
“My dorm, of course.”
Even though I’m not looking at her, I can feel her surprise.
“You’re nothing like I expected,” she murmurs, so softly I’m not sure she meant for me to hear. It’s not like she hasn’t said it before, though.
“What did you expect, darling?” I ask anyway, amusement coloring my tone.
She shakes her head, looking down at her hands. “An overly cocky, jerk more interested in himself than anything else.”
“Ouch.” I fake a wince.
“You asked,” she reminds me.
“That I did,” I sigh, tightening my grip on the wheel. “I think I used to be exactly what you expected.” The admission comes out a bit forlornly. “I mean, I was never purposely arrogant or rude to people, but I definitely thought I was untouchable.”
It takes me by surprise when her hand lands gently on my knee. There’s nothing sexual about the touch. She’s not gliding her fingers tauntingly or sliding them up my thigh. She’s only trying to comfort me, and I think for the first time in my life I realize that small gestures like that mean more than a quick fuck.
“What was it like going to a boarding school?” I don’t know whether she’s trying to distract me from wherever she thinks my brain has gone or is genuinely curious.
“Not so bad. It meant I got to be away from my dad.”
“I know sorry doesn’t change anything, but I am sorry you have a parent like that.”
“We all get bad cards dealt to us now and then. He’s one of mine.” Wanting to change the topic from my dad, especially since I’ll have to spend the entire afternoon in his presence, I say to her, “Tell me something I don’t know about you yet.”
Her hand shifts on my knee. “Well, speaking of cards, I can do card tricks.”
“What?” I blurt in surprise.
“Nothing super fancy, don’t get too excited. But some basic slights of hand are my specialty.”
“I’m still impressed. You’ll have to show me.”
Conversation reaches a lull as we reach the Nashville limits; no doubt, like me, she’s thinking about what we’ll be subjected to when we arrive.
Turning off the highway, I take the familiar stretch of road and turn into the club. The gates open automatically thanks to the tag in my car that it scans. I take the winding road slowly, that way I can glance at Vanessa from time to time and take in her reaction.
The sprawling white plantation style building comes into view and her mouth drops in awe.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Beautiful, but like a lot of beautiful things it’s cold and empty on the inside.”
She bites her lip. “That’s not always true.”
I snort, my knuckles turning white around the wheel with the knowledge that I’m minutes away from facing my father. “Prove me wrong. Give me an example.”
I’m not prepared for her soft exhale of, “You.”
I nearly swerve off the road. “What?”
She blushes, fiddling with the bottom of her dress. “You’re beautiful, Teddy, inside and out. There’s nothing cold or empty about you. I hope you know that.”
My brain doesn’t seem capable of processing what she said.
“Teddy?”
“Mhmm?” I mumble, hoping she can’t hear the catch in my voice.
“Are you okay?”
“As okay as I can be with what we’re facing.”
She looks at me doubtfully but doesn’t pester as we pull beneath the archway, and one of the valets steps forward.
“Welcome, Mr. McCallister,” the young guy says as he swings my door open.
It doesn’t matter how many times I ask them to call me Teddy here, I’m always Mr. McCallister.
I slip out of the car, adjusting my clothes so everything lays correctly and then cross the front of the car, opening Vanessa’s door for her and offering a hand.
Tucking her hand into my elbow, we walk into the building, and I tip my head in greeting at some of the people we pass.
“Do you know where we’re going?” she whispers under her breath, eyes wide as she takes in the club.
“Of course.”
I lead her to the restaurant area of the country club, and she stiffens when she sees how many are gathered. The smell of money practically permeates the air, and Vanessa’s fingers tremble against my elbow as eyes turn to us.
My parents are in the middle of the room, speaking to a group of people, some of which I recognize.
“Relax,” I murmur to Vanessa as we approach them. “All of them can smell fear like a shark with blood in the water.”
Her fingers squeeze my elbow, and I can tell she wants to run, but she squares her shoulders, lifting her chin in a defiant way and fuck if it doesn’t make me want to push her against a wall and kiss her until she can’t remember her own fucking name.
“Teddy.” My mom smiles when she spots us, encouraging us forward. “And Vanessa. So lovely to see you.” She kisses each of my cheeks and does the same with Van.
I don’t say anything, because if I did it’d be about how I was forced here by my sperm donor at her side.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. McCallister.”
“I told you, call me Lenora, dear.” Turning to the woman at her side, she says, “Marcia, meet Vanessa. This is Teddy’s lovely girlfriend.”
“Oh, a girlfriend.” Marcia smiles, taking Vanessa’s hand. Giving a fake hyena-like cackle, she turns that smile to me and places a hand on my arm. I instantly stiffen. “There was a time when I thought you might settle down with my Olive.”
“Olive?” Vanessa repeats, eyes skating between the woman and me. “Is that like your dog?”
I snort, quickly covering it with a cough, but not before I can avoid my father’s death glare. I know not for one second does Vanessa believe she’s talking about a dog, but if it isn’t the sassiest comeback I’ve ever heard.
If Marcia’s face wasn’t permanently frozen from plastic surgery, I’m positive her glare would be of seismic proportions.
“Olive, is my daughter, dear. She grew up with Teddy.”
“You named your child Olive?” Vanessa cackles. “I feel sorry for her.”
Marcia turns red, and before something can happen that neither of us wants to be a part of or witness, I tug Vanessa toward the drink table.
“That was incredible,” I say low enough for only her to hear, purposely brushing my lips over her cheek as I do.
She frowns. “I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble with what I said.”
“If it does, it was worth it, I promise you that.” I place an order for our drinks, and grin at her. “You know what’s even funnier?” She arches a brow in wait. “She has a dog named Ashley.”
Vanessa throws her head back and laughs. “Wow.”
“I know.” I tip my head in thanks when the bartender passes me our drinks. “Have you ever had a mimosa before?” She shakes her head. “It’s champagne and orange juice. It won’t get you drunk, but it’ll help ease the nightmare of this.”
She looks around the large, mostly white room. There’s an entire wall of windows overlooking the golf course and lake in the distance. Even I have to admit this place is nice, but I’d still prefer hanging out in Harvey’s to this.
With our drinks in hand, we return to my parents’ table where they’re now seated, Marcia nowhere in sight.
My father narrows his eyes on Vanessa, lips thinned, but he holds back on whatever cutting remarks are currently rattling in his brain. That’s one saving grace of being in public. He has to put on a show.
“What occasion are we celebrating?” I ask, pulling out a chair for Vanessa.
His lips twitch but he doesn’t reply. It’s my mom who says, “Ralph Woolford—I think you know him—has decided to run for governor. This is in his honor to show our support and raise funds.”
“Ah.” I jerk my head in a nod. “How much did it cost a head to get into this brunch?”
“That’s not important,” my father bites out, hand clasped around a glass of what I’d guess is bourbon.
I exchange a look with Vanessa. I’m already plotting our escape.
“How’s school?” My mom asks, directing the question to each of us.
“Dandy,” I respond, smiling when I see the vein in my dad’s forehead pulse. God, I fucking love messing with him in public and forcing him to keep wearing his mask.
“Good. Excited to graduate.”
“I’m sure, I’m sure,” she chants, picking up her glass of champagne. “What are your plans after graduating?”
Before Vanessa has a chance to answer my father cuts in with, “Don’t pretend to care what she has planned. She won’t be a part of our lives long enough for it to matter.”
Beneath the table my hands fist, nails digging into my palms. Almost immediately Vanessa’s hand is overtop my right one, providing a much-needed sense of calm.
He goes to take a drink as Vanessa replies with, “I don’t know about that. I mean, Teddy and I were planning for a wedding by the end of the summer, and I do so hope to be pregnant by this time next year. We want to be young parents.”
Bourbon sprays across the table, hitting me and the man to my left.
“Pregnant?”
“Not yet, of course,” Vanessa sips daintily at her mimosa. “But soon enough. Do you want to be called grandpa?”
My mom dabs at my father’s white shirt with a napkin and he shoves her off, storming for the restrooms if I had to hazard a guess.
“Well,” she sighs, setting the soiled napkin on the table. “Personally, I do think I’d prefer something a little more creative than grandma.”
After brunch, I sneak the two of us out a backdoor and show Vanessa around the grounds. The sun glints off her dark hair, showing strands of red and blonde sprinkled throughout the brunette.
She’s looking at the garden like she’s never seen anything so beautiful, but I have, and it’s her.
Spinning back to me, her cheeks glow with happiness. “This is amazing. It’s like something out of a fantasy novel.”
Wisteria hangs above her, framing her in its purple halo. I shove my hands in my pockets, watching her as she spins around, her dress lifting around her ankles. The smile on her face brings one to my own.
I sense a presence behind me and look over my shoulder. My spine stiffens, and I stand taller at the sight of my father.
Vanessa has her back to me, sniffing a flower. “Van,” I call softly. She turns, her cheeks glowing with happiness. That happiness dims when she notices the man behind me. “I need to speak with my dad. I’ll be right back.”
“Are you sure?”
I feel a traitorous tug in my chest, knowing this girl would play buffer between my father and me if I asked.
“Positive.”
Hesitation contorts her features, but she nods, turning back to the flowers.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I brace myself for the inevitable altercation.
My father turns, a silent command to follow. We step into a shadowy alcove off of the garden.
“What the fuck kind of game are you playing, son?” His eyes are glowing with barely leashed anger, nostrils flaring.
“First off, I’m not playing a game.” I step back, not because I’m afraid, but because I don’t have to take him glowering right in my face. “Secondly, you lost the privilege of calling me son the first time you ever laid a hand on me.”
His face turns a mottled red. “Watch your mouth.”
I bite my tongue, reminding myself I have to make it to graduation. I can’t afford to lose my shit prematurely. He smirks when I don’t have a comeback for him.
“You are not planning to marry that girl.”
“Is that a question or?”
“It’s a goddamn statement you little prick.” He looks near to busting a vein in his forehead. “You will not be marrying someone like that, and definitely not having children with them.”
“Someone. Like. What.”
“ Beneath us .”
I laugh incredulously. “You really think that your last name and bank account make you some sort of god.” I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it.
“Need I remind you, you share the same last name, son , and that bank account has kept you very happy.” He straightens the lapels of his jacket. “Keep your girlfriend for now, Teddy. Have your fun. Play your games. But remember, I play games too, and I not only call the shots,” his voice lowers, and he leans into me, his alcohol laced breath falling over me, “I always win.”
When he’s out of sight, I kick at the bench nearby, cursing under my breath.
Hate is a strong word, but there’s no better one to describe how I feel about my father.