Chapter Eleven #2
I bite my tongue, unwilling to expend the amount of energy it will take to say everything I want to, knowing that my words will only fall on deaf ears, like they have all my life.
My mother is brainwashed. Or brainless. Either way, she’s completely reliant on this man who has emotionally and financially abused her for years.
She’s so reliant on him that she still spends every waking moment hoping that everything will go back to the way it was because she has no idea how to go on without him.
She’s still holed up in her friend’s lake house, and from what I can tell, none of her friends have come to check on her.
A part of me wonders if I should bother, or if I should be the one who helps her realize that there’s a life outside of my father, but she’s not ready. She’s not ready to let go and move on. She’s Mrs. Thorne, the loyal and dutiful trophy wife.
“Tris, are you listening to me?” she goes on. “Don’t be ungrateful for all he’s done for us. He needs our support.”
I trip, almost face planting as I make it to the end of the road, across from the cafe. All that he’s done for us?! The sentiment alone is laughable.
“Mother, he has never done any of this for us. Father’s first love is money. Not you. Not me.” A reality I had to face every birthday growing up. Every special recital, every holiday. He worked because that was what was important to him.
“How can you say such horrible things?” she gasps, surprised, and I can’t take it anymore.
“Are you kidding me? Tell me, Mother, do the pills you take really cloud your judgment, or have they just completely wiped your memory of the reality we have been living all these years?”
“Tris,” she huffs, but I don’t let her stop me this time.
“No, really. Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have completely forgotten how he’d make you feel like your only job is to stand there and look pretty because that’s all you’re good for.
Growing up, he wasn’t there for us. His wallet was.
The only time he spent with us was at one of his business events or when he needed to impress clients with his picture-perfect family.
And that’s just it, Mother. I’m done playing the part. ”
“Tris,” she sniffles, telling me that my words have hit their mark.
I breathe heavily. It’s not that anything I’ve said is untrue, but it’s not her fault. Still, I’m angry. Angry that she has acted like none of this is true all these years. She’s made herself believe the lie and left me alone with these feelings, in this life, just as much as he has.
“He needs our support. Think about how he must be feeling.”
“Maybe he should have thought about our feelings before he ended up in this situation to begin with, because I’ll tell you what, Mother. He wasn’t thinking about you or me when he did everything he’s being accused of.”
My mother’s sharp intake of breath pierces through the phone as I cross the street. “Your father is innocent.”
I pause, closing my eyes with my key halfway into the cafe’s door. “You keep telling yourself that.”
I hang up the phone and step quietly into the cafe, accepting that this is the reality I live in now, and no one, not even me, can escape it.
“What in all that is holy are you doing, woman?!” I snap, nearly stepping on the dustpan that’s lying in the middle of the walkway behind the counter as Rory appears to be bouncing around in circles.
“Ugh, sorry. I started organizing the muffins by flavor alphabetically, but then I realized that we’re missing a label.
So I went to find one, and on my way, I noticed the mess on the floor.
So I started sweeping it up but that made me remember that I meant to put the bags of flour away in the back so I left this broom stick here so I wouldn’t forget to finish cleaning it up once I came back,” she rambles off and it’s as though I can literally see the wheels turning in her head, mapping exactly how her mind took her from point A to F.
.. or G? I don’t know but watching her makes me think we’re going to quickly run out of letters of the alphabet.
“Right... So did you ever get that label?”
“Ah, that’s what I was doing,” she says, eyes wide like she’s already forgotten.
“It’s fine,” I say, rolling my eyes mid-sentence, voice unchanging. “I’ll finish sweeping this up.”
She pokes her head out of a cabinet under the counter and looks up with a lopsided grin. “Oh yeah, thanks.”
“I’m tired just listening to the way your mind works. I can’t imagine what goes on in your head,” I tease, but I’m also very serious.
Rory laughs. “Imagine having a laptop open with forty-two tabs. One is playing a cat video, you have no idea where the theme song from Happy Days is coming from, and you’re surrounded by sticky notes reminding you to do basically everything.
.. Speaking of which, I should probably eat something today. ”
My chin drops looking at her. “Rory, it’s almost one in the afternoon.”
“Yeah, which is exactly why I need to eat because no one wants to see me hangry.”
I shake my head. She’s unbelievable.
“Honey, you better go eat somethin’. We only have enough liability insurance to cover Tris’s mood swings ‘round here.”
“Hey!” I holler at Ainsley as the two of them laugh.
“I’m only teasin’.” She smiles, taking one of her flowers from her hair and placing it behind my ear. “But I did notice you were a little, uh, icy earlier this morning when talking to some of the customers.”
“Bitchy, the word is bitchy,” Rory interrupts with a smirk.
I stick my tongue out at her. “Brat.”
She shrugs.
“Alright, well,” Ainsley continues, shaking her head with a smile at the two of us. “Just thought I’d see how you’re gettin’ on.”
They both look at me, expectantly and with concern laced into every line of their faces. Ainsley’s usual soft features are pinched inward, and Rory tilts her head to the side, her eyes filled with worry. She’s endearingly readable, with a face that seems never to have learned to lie.
My first reaction is to tell them I’m fine and put on a smile like I have all my life.
Even with women whom I considered my friends, I never truly let them see the real me.
I certainly never let them think that I wasn’t in control, happy, and perfectly poised at all times.
The idea makes my throat tighten, and my lungs constrict.
In the circles I ran in, the “friends” I surrounded myself with, it makes me realize now, they were more like sharks.
They were out for blood and always hungry.
They didn’t ask if I was okay because they cared.
They asked with the hopes that they could somehow use it against me later.
Now, that’s not the case at all, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
“Your silence speaks volumes,” Rory chuckles, knocking her elbow into Ainsley. “Has no one ever asked if she’s okay before? Seriously,” she says, nodding back to me. “The confusion on your face is so loud right now.”
I let out a quiet huff through my nose, and my chin drops.
“Ainsley, are we sure we need the extra help around here?” I ask playfully, raising a brow at Rory, causing her to gasp and throw her hand over her heart like she’s been physically impaled.
“According to Rory, she doesn’t work here.”
“That’s not what I said,” Rory quickly retorts.
“Not tellin’ your new brother that you want to stick around and are already workin’ here is kinda the same thing.” Ainsley purses her lips together, and we both look to Rory, who has now found herself in the hot seat instead of me.
Thank God.
Rory deflates a little and plays with the hair ties on her wrist. “I’ll tell him. I mean, at least I’ll run it by him. I don’t want to assume he wants me to stick around, but if I tell him I’ve already accepted a job here, then he’ll just agree to let me stay out of obligation.”
Rory’s guard is down, and on her face it’s clear as day. She’s afraid her half-brother Blake will reject her. From what I’ve learned about her, it seems like she’s most afraid of being alone. For once, that’s something I can relate to.
“If he can’t see how amazing you are, then that’s his loss, and he’s an idiot. I’ll stick a blow-up bed in my living room if I have to,” I say, and both girls slowly smile at me.
“What?” My gaze ping pongs between them.
Rory’s eyes are glistening as she throws her tiny body at me with an “oomf” and wraps her arms around my waist. “I told you we’re best friends now.”
Ainsley chuckles.
“We just can’t have you quittin’ on us,” I say, mimicking Ainsley’s southern accent with a smirk her way as I rest my head on top of Rory’s and pat her back.
“She’s right,” Ainsley agrees. “And she’s also a master deflector if I’ve ever seen one.”
Damn, I thought I could avoid answering.
“Listen, I appreciate you both for noticing. I’ll be alright, I promise. Just some family drama.”
“And how did the dog sitting go?” Rory drawls suspiciously.
“Good, why?” I ask apprehensively.
“Oh, no reason, except that your favorite person just walked through the door,” Rory giggles and bounces away.
I turn around to see for myself and instantly lock eyes with Levi.
A mix of emotions fills me. I’m still mad at him for what he said, no way am I forgetting that, but hanging out with Ellie last night was really nice.
I let her sleep in my bed, and I have to say, she is a fantastic cuddler.
I’ve never felt unsafe in my duplex, but having Ellie with me did give me a sense of not being so alone, so that was comforting.
I felt bad leaving her this morning, but I made sure she’d have everything she’d need along with some extra belly rubs.
My eyes roam over Levi’s face from across the cafe, and even from here, I can tell he looks tired.
Permanent shadows lie under his eyes, and his hair looks tousled, like he’s been running his hand through it all morning.
But even looking like this, my stomach dips.
This man, whom I swear I can’t stand, is also the only person who wakes me up inside.
I hate myself for it, but I can’t help but wonder if he feels the same way, too.
My eyes drop as I remember how ridiculous that is.
The man is grieving, and he’s made his feelings about me perfectly clear.
The confrontation with my mother this morning must have really thrown me off balance because I’m clearly delusional.
“Oh yeah,” Rory laughs from beside me. I’m not even sure how long she’s been here. “I can totally see how much you hate him.”
My lips press into a thin, uncertain line. “You fix those labels yet?”
Her eyes go wide before heading quickly toward that cabinet where we keep extra labels, and I laugh.
“This order is all yours, sugar,” Ainsley says with a way too innocent grin. “I have tables to serve.”
“Sure you do.” I roll my eyes, my stomach clenching as I head to the register and straight toward Levi.
I hate him.
I hate him
I hate him.
I repeat to myself, but when I reach Levi and see Ellie sitting beside him, pink bows still proudly in her fur, when I thought for sure he would definitely remove them before ever being caught dead walking around with her looking like that, I feel the first piece of something deep inside of me start to chip away and something else fall into place.
Perhaps hate is too strong a word.