Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I wasn’t sure what to make of what happened next but Mark leaned over and kissed me before driving me back home without saying a word, like it hadn’t happened.
It gnawed at my mind for the next day but I never mentioned it.
It was the truth, but I wasn’t sure it had been the right time to blurt it out.
It had been a monumental step for me and his response hadn’t exactly been a run in the opposite direction but it was almost like he had side-stepped it by carrying on like I had never said anything at all.
I was too scared to bring it up so I tried to forget I had said anything at all.
I had convinced myself it was for the best.
“Are you busy tomorrow?” he asked when he arrived later that day.
I checked my schedule but I had no appointments. I had planned working on some touch-ups and going through some pictures I needed to send out. While I was recovering, I had tried to clear my schedule as much as I could. Carrying around large equipment wasn’t conducive to healing bruised ribs.
“Nope. Why?” I asked, looking up curiously from my screen .
He looked uncomfortable as I lowered my phone.
“It’s my grandfather’s funeral,” he announced with a touch of sadness that pulled at my heartstrings.
Well, I hadn’t expected that. “You want me to go with you?” I asked, wanting to make sure we were on the same page.
He nodded. “It’s a low-key, family thing.”
Family. I would be meeting his family. My stomach fluttered. This felt like the first time he had opened up without me pushing him.
“You sure?” I asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t feel pushed into doing something he wasn’t ready to do.
“Yes.”
“Will your whole family be there?” I prodded, needing some information so I didn’t walk into it without knowing some details.
“Pretty much just my immediate family.” He didn’t seem happy about that, the distastes evident in his features.
“Mom?” I asked anxiously.
He nodded.
“Dad?”
He nodded again.
I wanted to ask more questions but he was pretty distant so I kept myself from prodding further. He was letting me in to a part of life he kept off limits. This was confirmation I had sought for, so I felt more secure in our relationship than I had before.
I was well aware my own insecurities also played havoc with my expectations, but so far so good.
Despite his emotional distance, we ended up spending the night together, but he made a point of leaving before the sun came up. It felt like the closer I got to him the further emotionally he withdrew.
I surveyed my appearance in the mirror, meticulously checking my makeup and attire. I was nervous and I smoothed my skirt. I was dressed in all black with slight high heels and just a touch of makeup. I had taken off the bandage and hid my stitches with my hair.
Checking the time, I did one more sweep before I put some pearl earrings on and grabbed my purse. Mark would be here any minute to pick me up.
I let out a nervous breath before I touched up my lipstick again to try and keep myself busy, so I couldn’t let my thoughts run wild with my insecurities about Mark.
There was a knock and I hurried to answer it.
“You ready?” he asked.
I nodded, closing the door behind me.
Instead of holding my hand like he might have before, he walked beside me. I could tell by the way his mouth pulled and how he fidgeted slightly that he was nervous. The drive wasn’t long and I had to admit I was a bundle of nerves by the time Mark opened the door and helped me to my feet.
We made our way to the burial site and I felt saddened by the end of a life even though I had never met him.
I could tell he had meant a lot to Mark and that was enough for me to feel his loss.
There were a handful of people all dressed in black but it was still difficult to pinpoint who was who.
Mark stood with his hands behind his back, his face slightly bowed, not making eye contact with anyone standing on the opposite side.
I stayed close to him, only allowing myself to sneak in a few looks across the open grave to the strangers, but I couldn’t figure out who anyone was.
There were a few couples and a few older people.
We listened to the priest and, after he was done, they lowered the coffin into the ground.
Mark was quiet, his eyes intense as he watched. I reached for his hand and squeezed it.
When they began to fill it in, Mark turned away. For the first time I saw his red-rimmed eyes. To a stranger he seemed indifferent, but I could tell he wasn’t.
“You okay?” I whispered.
He nodded tersely. “Let’s go.”
I nodded. He began to lead the way back to the car, when someone called out. His hand tightened around me but he didn’t slow down.
“Son.”
Mark halted but didn’t turn. It was weird to hear him being called that. A tall man who was starting to gray stopped beside Mark. Now that I looked closer, I could see some faint similarities, like the shape of the face and the same defined jawline.
“We need to talk,” he said, ignoring me completely.
“I’m sure we can do that another time.” Mark’s jaw twitched.
“This will only take a few moments,” he argued. “I’m sure your mom can keep your friend company while we talk.”
A woman halted to join us. “Mark,” she greeted stiffly. I assumed this was his mom.
She looked me up and down like I had crawled out of the gutter. I instantly disliked her.
Mark gave me a questioning look and I forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.” Although I wasn’t so sure about that.
He released my hand. “I won’t be long.” He didn’t even look in the direction of his mother. He walked with his father, and I was left with the woman who wore the most expensive jewelry I had ever seen.
I smiled when our eyes met. I couldn’t bring myself to be rude even though I’m sure it came second nature to her.
“So, you’re his new friend?” she asked, judging me with the long look that took in my clothes and minimal bling.
“Yes,” I replied, trying not to be offended by the dirty look she was giving me.
“You’re not his usual type.”
I tried to hide my hurt at that comment. I had never felt good enough and she was opening up an insecurity I had managed to ignore.
“And what’s his usual type?” I found myself asking, feeling sensitive to the judgment in her eyes.
She was stick-thin, almost to the point of looking ill. Her expensive clothes fit her perfectly and I felt underdressed in my simple outfit. She made me feel like a girl trying to play dress-up.
“Beautiful and sophisticated.”
It felt like a slap in the face but I refused to let her rile me up. I shrugged. “Maybe he wants something new.”
She laughed. “Not likely. He’ll get bored.”
I swallowed, her eyes watchful of any weakness.
“And then he’ll move on.”
“We’ll see,” I mumbled, looking away from her to look for Mark, who was still talking quite heatedly with his father. I wished he were finished so we could leave. I didn’t want to have to deal with this woman any longer.
“Mothers know their sons,” she added.
“Really?” I snapped, unable to politely allow her to insult me without fighting back. “I’ve known your son since high school and he has never mentioned you, not once.”
She frowned.
“If you were really that close, I would have heard him talk about you, so I probably know him better than you do.” I held her glare triumphantly.
And I’d had it. I stormed off in the direction of the car, deciding I would wait for him there rather than trade insults with his mom. Now I could understand his reluctance to talk about her. If she had been my mom, I would have put myself up for adoption.
I was still trying to get a handle on my anger and the hurt she had inflicted, when Mark found me.
“She got to you, didn’t she?” he asked anxiously .
I couldn’t look at him directly for fear he would see the truth.
“Tracy,” he said, lifting my chin so our eyes met.
“She isn’t a very nice person,” I admitted, not wanting to get into the finer details of the insults.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “None of them are.”
If his mother was that bad, I couldn’t imagine what his father would be like, and for the first time I hoped I never saw them again.
It ate away at me and I hated that I had allowed Mark’s mom to get to me. It was my own insecurity about not feeling like I was pretty enough to land someone like him that had allowed her to get to me. I knew that but I didn’t know how to get over it.
“Is something bugging you?” Mark asked when we got back to his apartment.
He poured himself a drink. I reached for it and downed it before shoving it back into his hand.
“That bad?” he asked, refilling the glass.
I nodded, still fighting the feel of the alcohol that burned down my throat. I didn’t drink often but, after that encounter, I needed something to soothe the angst.
Feeling agitated, I threw my purse onto the sofa as I sat down.
“Is she always like that?” I asked, finding it so difficult to believe someone could be that mean.
He took a sip of his drink and nodded. “Sometimes worse.”
“God, how did you survive that?” I asked, feeling sorry that he had to deal with her.
I couldn’t imagine her with a baby or a small child. If after only one encounter she could make me feel the way I was, I couldn’t imagine the damage she had done to Mark.
“Sometimes I’m not sure I did.” He set his drink down.
“You have my permission to never mention her ever again.” I crossed my arms.
He laughed. “Wait until you get to know my father.”
I glared at him. “I’ll pass.”
He walked over to the seat beside me and sat down. He leaned back and put his arm around the top of my chair. “My grandfather was the only kind one. He was the one who encouraged me when all they could do was criticize.”
I couldn’t imagine living in an environment like that.
“Being born into privilege has its expectations. I was expected to act a certain way and, when I didn’t, it became quickly apparent I wasn’t going to fit into the mold of who my parents wanted me to be.”