Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
RACHEL
My mood, that had settled after listening to Frankie’s excitement on the drive here, plummeted and I felt the urge to walk straight back out the front door without another word.
The disbelief in her voice told me all I needed to know about the incoming confrontation.
I didn’t have the patience to deal with her right now.
“Serious about what?” I asked, my words tight as I swung around to face them both.
Eyes wide with incredulity, my mother lowered her voice, stepping closer so she wouldn’t be overheard by Mojave. “You’re not seriously bringing home a criminal and expecting us to be okay with it! What were you even thinking? Were you hoping to get back at Scott by dating a–a–”
I cut her off before she could finish that sentence, scowling at her.
“Mojave isn’t a criminal. He’s a military veteran and a good man.
Just because he rides a motorcycle doesn’t make what he does illegal.
And being with him has nothing to do with Scott.
My choices stopped including my ex-husband the moment I found out he was cheating on me.
Now you can either take a moment to readjust your thinking and give Mojave a chance, or we’ll leave.
I’m not going to stand here and let you accuse him of something he hasn’t done. ”
My dad, always the peacekeeper, lifted both hands in a staying motion. “Now hold on. We don’t want you going anywhere. We were just surprised, that’s all. You never mentioned you were dating someone from one of those biker gangs.”
“It’s a crew, not a gang, and entirely legit,” I cut in. “Believe me, I’ve looked into them myself when a few of my cases ended up in their care. They’re good people. Don’t judge them based on the stories Scott told you. Try to at least get to know him first before making any judgments.”
It was something I hadn’t afforded the crew the first time, so while I didn’t like it, I couldn’t blame my parents for their knee jerk reactions.
I’d unfortunately done the same thing. I was willing to give my parents another shot, but not if they were going to continue to judge Mojave before even getting to know him.
Mojave and Frankie came back before they could say anything more.
Mojave’s eyes, which had been half lidded and droopy from fatigue before, suddenly sharpened as he took in our body language and the tension between us.
His brows drew together and he moved Frankie behind him automatically, asking, “Is there a problem?”
I turned and raised an eyebrow at my parents. It was up to them if there was a problem or not.
My mother forced a smile that looked more like a grimace, her voice tight with restraint as she replied, “Of course not. Why doesn’t everyone come inside? We’re letting all the good air out.”
Mojave’s eyes cut to me, looking to me for confirmation before following them inside. I nodded once, encouraging him and Frankie inside, and ran my hand lightly over Frankie’s hair to reassure her.
“Brought this for you,” Mojave grunted, handing my parents the bottle of wine. “As a thanks for inviting us.”
My mom took it, her own suspicion mounting until she pulled out the bottle and her brows jumped in surprise. “Oh. This is a nice one. Thank you…” She hesitated, waiting for him to repeat his name for her.
“Mojave,” he answered curtly. He was obviously picking up on a lot more than I’d planned, and was more guarded than usual.
“Mojave,” she repeated with a slow nod. “Did your parents pick that name for any special reason?”
“No.”
I could tell this wouldn’t go well if I didn’t at least break the ice a little.
Since my dad was prior military, I figured he’d get along better with Mojave than my mom would.
“That name is actually from his military days,” I said, tipping my head at him.
“Prez told me you had it before you joined the crew and didn’t want to change it? ”
He nodded in confirmation, but didn’t add more. This was not going well.
“A call sign, huh?” Dad asked, a little more curious now. “What branch of the military were you in?”
“Marines,” Mojave answered.
“I’m a soldier myself,” Dad said, lifting his chin proudly. “I might’ve stayed in for life if I hadn’t busted my knee in a training exercise. Can’t complain about getting out when I did, though, since I met my wife a week later.”
“Why don’t we sit in the living room to chat?” I offered since we were still all standing by the door. It looked like Mojave and Frankie were looking for any excuse to flee, and my mom would be more than happy if they did.
“I’ll just, uh… put this in the fridge to chill,” Mom said, excusing herself while the rest of us moved to the living room.
I pulled Mojave onto the couch next to me, smiling at Frankie when she moved to sit between us automatically.
It was where she felt safe, and I was happy to have her there, giving her a little side hug to reassure her when she snuggled in close to the both of us.
Dad sat in his favorite recliner, giving Frankie a cursory look before turning to Mojave again. “You still in the service?”
This topic, I knew, wasn’t an easy one for Mojave, and I regretted bringing it up, but Mojave answered in short responses, his focus half on Frankie who was fidgeting in her seat.
“No. I was discharged a few years ago.” His eyes narrowed on the little girl beside him before asking, “Do you have any paper? Frankie likes to do origami.”
“Origami?” Mom asked as she rejoined us. “That’s an interesting skill. Where’d you learn that?”
Frankie’s responses were just as tight and guarded as Mojave’s were when she replied, “Mojave taught me.”
Mom gave her a strained smile. “Well, that’s a nice hobby to share with your daddy. We only have printer paper, I’m afraid. Will that work?”
Frankie’s brows furrowed. “Mojave’s not my dad. He’s just… Mojave.”
While Mojave seemed fine with that explanation, both of my parents shot me confused frowns, so I elaborated a little. “Mojave is Frankie’s guardian. Her parents are working through a reunification plan right now, and Mojave agreed to watch over her until things improved.”
“Oh. I see,” Mom said, and her pleasant mask slipped a little to reveal her displeasure before she hid it again. “So, printer paper?”
“That’s fine,” I told her.
Dad pushed to his feet. “I’ll get it. It’s in my office.”
He shuffled out of the room and my mom sat awkwardly on the arm of his recliner instead of her normal spot on the sofa, not so subtly putting distance between her and the pair seated next to me.
My jaw ticked and I felt my emotions fray.
This was a bad idea. I should’ve come alone.
I’d just been so happy lately that I wanted my parents to meet the people who’d brightened my life so much.
I should’ve been thinking of Mojave and Frankie.
They shouldn’t have to be put through this just because I was hopeful that my parents might be happy for me.
The room was silent as we waited, the clock in the hallway the only sound aside from some shuffling noises coming from the other room. I was relieved when my dad came back, since he was the only one willing to put in the effort to be polite and chat.
“Here we go,” Dad said, setting a stack of paper onto the table. He set a pair of scissors beside it, adding, “Wasn’t sure if you’d need these or not. I’ve never done origami myself.”
“Frankie, why don’t you show him how to make something?” I suggested.
She looked about as enthused with that idea as she would be a dental visit, and didn’t move until Mojave slid to the floor with her and sat in front of the coffee table. Only then was she comfortable enough to pick up a piece of paper.
“So, Rachel. How’s work?” Dad asked, attempting to regain control of the situation.
He was watching as Frankie focused on folding the paper just right, but glanced up at me to show he was listening.
Mojave didn’t pick up his own paper, which told me a lot.
He was too worked up right now to use that particular coping mechanism.
My parents weren’t putting him at ease in the slightest.
“Work’s fine,” I replied with a shrug. “I’ve got a lighter docket right now, which is nice. It gives me more time to spend with Frankie.”
“And what do you do?” Mom asked, her gaze steely as she stared at Mojave. “You said you weren’t in the military any longer. Do you only foster for money or do you do anything else worthwhile?”
“Mom,” I snapped, but she gave me an innocent look in response.
“What? Am I not allowed to ask what he does for a living? It’s not like it’s illegal. Right?”
Her suspicious tone put my back up and I opened my mouth to answer, but Mojave answered for me. “I don’t do anything illegal. None of my crew does.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but when his eyes lifted to lock with hers, he didn’t add more. Just stared back at her with enough intensity that she backed off, sitting back with a frown.
Clearing his throat, Dad gave Mom a look before speaking to the room at large. “I’m sure we don’t need to be talking about money after just meeting. Rachel, did your mom tell you we’ve been thinking of going on a road trip? We’re looking at renting an RV and everything.”
The conversation remained strained until dinner time, with me and my dad holding most of the conversation while Mojave only gave short answers and my mom randomly tossed out snide comments here and there.
I tried to ignore her, not wanting to end up in a screaming match with her while Mojave and Frankie were here.
I should’ve known she wouldn’t accept that lying down. She never liked being ignored.
We moved to the dining room, where my mom handed out plates of pot roast, potatoes, and green beans.
My serving was significantly smaller than everyone else's, even Frankie’s, and when she noticed Mojave’s doubletake, she gave him a forced smile.
“Rachel is watching her weight. It’s important to stay healthy, right, honey? ”