Chapter 21
Victoria
“Ten thousand dollars in damage?” I squeak as Jordan tells me about the fight that broke out last night in Chicago. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, Coach is so pissed.”
“Are you okay? Did anyone get hurt?”
“Well, none of us suffered any real injuries. Those guys were drunk and out of shape but they made a mess.”
“The restaurant owner called the police, and it was a whole thing.” He sounds exhausted.
“Luckily, we paid for the damage plus a little extra, gave the waitress a five-hundred-dollar tip, and the cops didn’t arrest anyone.
Especially since there were video cameras in the restaurant and they could see that they started it. ”
“How mad was Coach?”
“Oh, hopping mad. We have a curfew for the rest of the trip. It’s ridiculous but I get it. The press was all over it. The waitress videotaped the whole thing on her phone so it’s a social media sensation now.”
I wince. “No wonder Coach is mad.”
“Yeah. We tried so hard, Victoria. We just let them talk and talk and talk. But then that guy followed Milo when he went to refill his drink, and he shoved him. Not once, but twice. The first time, he let it go, but the second time…”
“You can’t blame him for defending himself.”
“No. Or the rest of us for getting involved.”
“As long as no one was hurt.”
“Milo has a black eye, but that’s it. The rest of those guys went down pretty quick. They were all talk. And we really tried to walk away. Even after Milo shoved him back, he told him to knock it off. He didn’t come out swinging.”
“But the other guy did.”
“Yup. And you know Milo—tall, skinny and hasn’t quite grown into his body yet. So he looks kind of wimpy.”
“I take it he’s not.”
“Oh nooo. He’s tough as nails. And that guy learned a hard lesson.”
“No charges were filed, right?”
“Right. But it’s all over the news.”
“It’ll blow over.”
“Let’s hope.”
“Well, I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Anyway, I have to get going but I’ll call you later. This is a travel day and I think there’s a team dinner tonight where Coach will yell at us some more.”
I laugh. “That’s why you make the big bucks!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
We disconnect and I put my phone in my pocket.
I just got out of class and am heading to work.
It’s going to be a busy week as my boss is taking a few days off and I have to be in the store every day, including my days off.
The money will be good but I’ll be exhausted by Sunday and then I start off the next week behind the eight ball.
The only good thing is that this happened on a week when Jordan is traveling so I wouldn’t have been able to spend time with him anyway. Hopefully, we’ll make up for that when he gets back.
I’ve just gotten to the mall when my phone rings, and I see my mom’s name on the screen.
“Hey, Mom.” I answer, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“What time are you home tonight?” she asks.
“Not until around ten. Why?”
She sighs. “I’m not feeling great, and your sister has her real estate class. I was hoping you could help with Charlie.”
“I’m sorry. But my boss is out of town so I’m closing tonight.”
She sighs again. “I wish you didn’t work so much.”
“If I didn’t work, I wouldn’t be able to pay for my car.”
“You didn’t need a new car,” she huffs. “I could have driven you back and forth to school.”
“Mom, I’m sorry you’re under the weather, but I need to work. I’m twenty-two years old. I have to have money of my own, without asking my parents.”
“I’m just not sure how I’m going to handle him today.”
“Why are you calling me instead of his mother?”
“Well, she has class.”
“And I have work. What’s the difference?”
“You don’t contribute to the household,” she says in a surly tone. “You use us like a hotel.”
“It was your idea for me to live at home while I went to college to save money. I was accepted to Florida State and Tulane. I could have gone away. And I contribute quite a bit. I do all the laundry on Sundays, including yours and Charlie’s, which is a lot.
I wash your car when I do mine. And I clean my room and bathroom. ”
“Well, that’s the least you could do.”
“Mom, if you need me to do more, say so, but you can’t call me out of the blue and make me feel guilty because I can’t help take care of a kid that isn’t mine!”
“Your sister is under a lot of pressure. The least you could do is help.”
“Oh, you mean like all the nights I got up with Charlie when he was a newborn so she could sleep? Or how I was the only one making bottles for him so there would always be one in the fridge for whomever was feeding him? How about me taking him and picking him up from preschool all last year? Even though it made me late for work a bunch of times.”
“That was then. This is now. We’re a family and this isn’t a hotel. We do a lot for you and your sister. It’s not too much to ask that you’re around to help out.”
“Unless you want to take over my car and insurance payments, I can’t skip work. I’m sorry. I have to go.”
I disconnect, feeling equal parts annoyed and guilty.
In some ways, it is a little like living at a hotel.
I come and go as I please, and other than Sunday dinner, I don’t spend a ton of time with my family.
I go out of my way to spend time with Charlie, but he’s often asleep when I get home from work.
On my days off I clean my room, do whatever laundry I find, and run any errands I have.
I don’t pay to live at home but that was the deal we made when I was getting ready for college.
I really wanted to move to Tallahassee to attend FSU but my parents convinced me it would be cheaper to go to school locally and live at home.
Even with a partial scholarship I would have wound up with tens of thousands of dollars in student loans, so I took their advice.
They don’t give me any money, which is fine, but it seems unreasonable to want me to take time off work to help babysit a child that isn’t mine.
I help Ivy with Charlie all the time. I’ve spent a ton of money on diapers, formula, and toys over the years.
It’s frustrating that my parents don’t think that counts.
By the same token, maybe I need to do more around the house. My mom is very particular about how things are done, and she does most of it herself anyway but I might try to offer. Instead of washing her car for her, I could just ask her what she would prefer when I have a little extra time.
My parents are frustrating sometimes, but I try to be respectful, especially now, when I’m so close to graduation.
It might also help my case when I tell them about Jordan.
I already know they won’t like that we’re back together and so far I haven’t been brave enough to mention it.
I keep trying to come up with a way to spin it that will make them give him another chance but I’m not sure there’s such a thing.
My father hates him. Any time his name has come up over the years he says something along the lines of still wanting to kick his ass.
It’s immature and ridiculous but I just keep my mouth shut.
Now I’m rethinking that. It’s time to open up a line of communication about things and try to get my family on board. How else are Jordan and I going to be together? Technically, I can leave any time I want. I’m an adult and I’ll be out of school in two months.
But they’re my family. I don’t want to be estranged from them.
As strict as my dad is, and as needy as my mom can be, they’re my parents.
It’s that simple. When I thought my life was over four years ago, my parents helped me piece it back together.
They were distracted with Ivy’s pregnancy, but I still had support and love.
Sometimes it feels conditional, and I’ve learned not to get upset about it because a lot of kids have it much worse.
I have to think about this and find a way to ease Jordan into the conversation with my family. Maybe Ivy will have some ideas. My parents tend to give her a little more slack for some reason—probably because they adore Charlie—so she might have insight I’m missing.