Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
“So, where do we all sleep?” Mom asked that evening as we were sitting in the living room. Everyone’s suitcases were scattered about. Dad was watching TV, while the others were on their phones. I had disappeared into my room for a few hours, claiming I needed to make some important phone calls for work, but really just needing some space.
I’d updated my friends with the news.
My family’s staying with me because their house flooded.
Alison: all four of them? Good thing you have the spare bedrooms.
Emilia: Yeah but Robert the hot DILF is staying with her, remember? I hope it’s not too crowded.
Don’t call Robert a DILF, I’d replied, skin growing hot, despite the fact my friends couldn’t see me.
Emilia: Sorry, I meant DBLF.
Alison: DBLF?
Emilia: Dad Brooke’d Like to Fuck.
EMILIA , I’d typed.
Alison: Is he really that attractive?
Emilia: Yep. You know how we were worried he’d be a creepy old man? Well let’s just say, I’m not into older guys, but even I wouldn’t mind him creeping on me.
I’m going to block you Emilia , I’d texted.
Emilia: haha sorry I’ll stop.
Alison: hope things go smoothly with your family, Brooke! Let us know if you need anything.
Now, I explained to my family that I had one spare bedroom left.
Dad let out a humorless laugh. “Your mom and I aren’t sharing a room with Brandon and Gemma. We all need our own space.”
I forced a patient smile. “I know, but this is only temporary. The bed in the spare bedroom is big enough for three people, and someone can stay on the couch.”
If worst came to worst, I could offer to share my bed with Mom or Gemma. But the last thing I wanted to hear was Mom telling me that the plumbing breaking was all my fault, or Gemma chattering on about her dream designer handbag collection.
Robert stepped up to my side, his hand brushing the back of my arm. “I’ll take the couch. They can take my room while they’re here.”
I opened my mouth to protest — it was his room, he was paying for it — but Brandon and Gemma talked over me, rushing toward the bedroom with excitement.
“Down this hall, right?” Brandon asked over his shoulder as Gemma dragged him that way.
“Yeah, just down there,” Robert replied, but his words fell on deaf ears.
Brandon and Gemma didn’t reply, just disappeared into the bedroom with their suitcases in tow.
“We’ll take the spare then,” my mother said before checking the time on her dainty silver watch. I could only imagine whose money bought that. “We’ll get cleaned up before dinner.”
“I can order something,” I offered as my parents started to filter out of the living room. I didn’t even care if I blew a bunch of money on takeout. I just wanted things to be as easy and painless as possible.
“I’ll make something,” Robert told me.
I turned to him. “Are you sure? You’ve done so much already.” I twisted my mouth. “Besides, my family won’t appreciate the gesture. You’ve already seen that they’re not the most…grateful.”
He reached out, touching my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just do chicken alfredo. Easy. It won’t even be from scratch. The pasta will come from a box, and the cheese is pre-shredded,” he assured me.
Gradually, I relaxed under his warm hands, feeling the stress seep out of my muscles.
“Thank you,” I told him, meaning the words with my whole soul. If he wasn’t here, this day would be even more unbearable than it already was.
He gently squeezed my upper arms before heading to the kitchen to prepare for dinner. I decided to stay out of his way and make sure everyone had what they needed. I handed out extra blankets, spare toothbrushes, and toiletries to my family members.
I didn’t like thinking of my family as exhausting. You were supposed to love your family, right? And I did love them. Deep down.
But liking them? That was another story.
I didn’t even feel guilty about it because I knew that they didn’t exactly like me, either.
“Here are some towels,” I said, stepping into the spare bedroom. Dad was slouched on the bed, so Mom took the towels and set them down. I was about to leave, when she pulled me back.
“Brooke,” she hissed, her voice so low that Dad couldn’t hear. “What on earth are you thinking, living with that man?” she demanded.
I stared at her. “‘That man?’” I echoed. “He has a name.”
Mom waved a hand, like that wasn’t important. “How old is he?” she demanded. “Fifty?”
“No,” I replied. “Not that his age is any of your business.”
She shook her head. “And you claim he’s living here temporarily?”
“I’m not claiming anything. It’s the truth.” I frowned at her. “What’s the issue? He’s my tenant. We have a rental contract and everything.”
She gave me a shrewd look. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t need the money, so why are you renting out a room to him? There’s not something going on between you two, is there?”
“What? No! Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”
She pursed her lips. “It’s not proper for you to live with an older man. It makes you look like a certain type of woman.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. My jaw dropped, but then I drew myself up, shoulders rolling back. ‘A certain type of woman?’ I wanted to scream. Instead, I controlled my temper.
“I don’t need to explain or defend my choices to you, Mom,” I said in a cool voice. “I’m a grown adult. This is my home. I bought this place myself. I am letting you stay here as a guest. Robert has been nothing but kind to all of you. In fact, he is cooking dinner for all of us right now. So, I would appreciate it if you could treat him with the respect he deserves.”
I walked out of the room before Mom could have the last word. I fled to the kitchen to check on Robert. “Can I help with something? Anything?”
Robert looked up from stirring the cooked fettuccine into the creamy Alfredo sauce, the most delicious smell filling the kitchen. “I’m just about done, but if you want to bring the bowls out to the dining table when I’m done filling them, that would be great.”
I gladly busied myself and transported bowls full of warm pasta to the dining table, wanting to get through dinner as soon as I could. My strength was sapped. Soon, my family entered the room and took their seats at the table, already digging in without waiting for Robert and me to even sit down.
Robert and I took our seats, sitting opposite each other at the end of the table.
“How is it?” Robert asked Brandon, who sat next to him.
Brandon gave him a thumbs-up and a muffled “mhmm”, his mouth full of food.
“So, do you have a job, Richard?” Mom asked after she patted her mouth clean with a napkin before crumbling it up and dropping it onto the table.
“Robert,” he corrected in a friendly voice. “I work in construction.”
“Good field,” my father said before shoveling another forkful of fettuccine into his mouth. “I did that for a little while. Told Brandon to get a job in construction too.”
“I want to be an entrepreneur, Dad,” Brandon said. “I can do more than haul rocks and pour concrete.”
“I’m pretty sure people working in construction do more than just that,” I said.
“Don’t get all pissy with your brother. He was just playing,” Mom told me with a pointed look.
Maybe I should’ve brought out some wine. At least then I could’ve numbed myself to all of this, but on second thought, it wasn’t a good idea to let my family get buzzed.
Something gently brushed the side of my foot under the table. My eyes shifted upward, and I met Robert’s gaze.
He gave me a subtle smile, and I realized it was his foot. He was trying to tell me not to worry.
And it worked.
I was as mild-mannered as I could be through the rest of dinner, and Robert didn’t shy away from jumping into the conversation. Even when my parents made comments that had my teeth clenching, he wasn’t fazed. In fact, he found some common ground with my dad about baseball and even engaged Brandon in a conversation about cars.
I could’ve cried with relief when everyone finally turned in for the night. With my family in the spare bedrooms, the doors firmly shut, my apartment was a lot quieter.
I changed into my silk pajama dress, pulled on my white fluffy robe, then brought out some extra pillows for Robert so he could get comfortable on the couch. “I’m so sorry about this,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it. This couch is huge. I have tons of space.” He lay down to demonstrate and smiled up at me.
How was he so easygoing about everything?
“You gonna have your green tea?” he asked.
I nodded. “Do you want anything?”
He shook his head. “Still think green tea tastes like grass.”
I smiled. “I’ll convert you one day,” I replied as I walked over to the kitchen and made my cup of tea with a teaspoon of honey. Just as I was heading back toward my bedroom, the sound of loud voices coming from Robert’s room made me pause.
“You do this every year,” Gemma snapped, her voice clear even through the closed door. “I’ve wanted this necklace for months! It can be my birthday gift!”
“Your birthday is in four months,” Brandon replied. “I’ve invested all my money into my business, okay?”
I glanced at Robert, who had his eyes closed but wore a small frown.
“Are they being too loud?” I asked him.
He opened his eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll eventually fall asleep.”
I started toward the bedroom. “I’ll tell them to shut up.”
“No, don’t.” His voice was so sharp, it made me stop in my tracks. “It’s fine,” he said, in a softer tone, when I turned to look at him.
I knew Brandon and Gemma, and I knew they wouldn’t stop bickering for at least another hour. But I also knew that if I asked them to quiet down, that would just make them indignant. They might even talk louder, just to spite me. They were real mature, those too.
“You won’t get any sleep out here,” I said. “Stay in my room.”
He sat up. “Brooke, it’s fine.”
“I’m not suggesting we share a bed,” I explained quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was making a move. “We can shift the couch. There’s enough space.”
Robert looked at me for a long moment. I wondered whether he was going to say no, and if so, whether I should be offended.
“Alright,” he agreed eventually.
I took my tea to my room, and put the cup down on my nightstand. When I returned to the living room, Robert had folded up the blankets. It wasn’t difficult for us to maneuver the couch down the hallway and into my bedroom, and it fit perfectly near the foot of my bed. Once I closed the door behind us, Brandon and Gemma’s voices were silenced.
I sipped my green tea, my novel in my lap while Robert adjusted the blankets and pillows. While we wouldn’t be sleeping on the same bed, he was rather close. Close enough to hear each other’s breathing, to hear the rustle of blankets as we moved around.
“What are you reading?” Robert asked from the couch.
I looked up from the page I’d been staring at, but not reading. I showed him the cover of the book, which depicted a woman in a dress being swept up by a lord on English pastures. “A historical romance,” I said.
“Looks riveting,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No!” he said quickly, then chuckled. “I can’t talk. I don’t think I’ve read a book since high school.”
“Reading before bed helps me relax,” I explained. “It’s better than scrolling on my phone in any case.”
He nodded. “So is that your favorite genre?”
“I’d say so. I like reading about a different time period.”
“But isn’t it hard to relate to the characters?”
“It would be easy for you. You were born in the 1800s, weren’t you?” I asked.
That surprised a bark of laughter out of him. “You’re lucky you’re all the way over there,” he said.
I sucked in a breath. “Why?”
“Because if you were close enough, I’d elbow you for that comment. What happened to respecting your elders?”
My shoulders relaxed, and I laughed. What would it be like if he was sitting right next to me, though? If I teased him, and he nudged my side, and it was the two of us, close, in bed —
I cleared my throat. “The characters are still relatable,” I said, answering his earlier question. “But I like how it’s a different world. There’s no corporate law firms in the stories. It’s a good way to escape from thinking about work.”
“That makes sense.” He didn’t say anything else. He probably wanted to give me the opportunity to read my book.
I read a single page, but all I could think about was him.
Once I finished my tea, I brushed my teeth, then turned all the bedroom lights off, so only the lamp on my nightstand was on. It filled the room with a golden glow. Robert’s face was cast in shadows.
“I’m beat,” he murmured.
“Me too,” I replied, stifling a yawn. I was happy tomorrow was Monday. I’d be at the office instead of here, at home, my family driving me insane.
I slipped off my robe and hung it on my closet door. “Thanks again for helping today,” I said.
He was quiet for a few seconds, and I wasn’t sure if he heard me. “Oh, yeah. No problem.” His voice was a little rough.
I climbed into my bed and pulled my blankets over me. “Good night.”
“Good night, Brooke.”
Just the sound of his deep voice saying my name made my heart skip a beat. I switched off the lamp light, needing to hide myself in darkness.