5. Chapter Five #3
“I do now,” I say quietly, wondering why he would do that for me.
Graham adds, “You deserve more than just the bare minimum.”
We ride in silence the rest of the way. I see the living room lamp on through the window and know Beth is waiting for me. I don’t want to tell her about the night. I should have avoided this night entirely.
I meet Graham’s eyes as he parks the golf cart in the driveway. I take a shaky breath.
“Thanks, Graham,” I say as we sit there.
There’s so much more that I want to say — to thank him for his friendship and for being my savior tonight but I can’t find the right words.
My voice gets caught in my throat. He doesn’t ask any more questions.
He doesn’t pry, and for that I’m grateful. I just want to put this night to rest.
“Any time,” he says softly.
I feel a lump forming in my throat and know that tears are coming.
“I, uh, better head inside,” I say as I hop out of the golf cart.
“See you later.”
I nod as I turn away and head up the porch steps.
A tear escapes and I quickly wipe it away as I fumble with my keys in the lock and open the door.
The golf cart rumbles to life as Graham backs down the driveway.
I toss my keys onto the entryway table and kick off my shoes, not bothering to put them in the shoe rack.
“Hey,” Aunt Beth says, sticking her head out of the living room. “How was your date?”
I look up at her and her smile instantly fades.
“Thea, what’s wrong?” she asks.
I sniffle as I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have gone,” I mutter. “Raquel tried to warn me and I didn’t listen.”
“Come here.” She reaches for me and I follow her into the living room. She guides me to the couch and we sit down. She tucks her legs underneath her and leans against the back of the couch.
“Tell me everything,” she says.
“He picked me up on his motorcycle,” I begin. “I tried to get him to just walk, but he was adamant about the motorcycle.”
Aunt Beth nods slowly. “And it made you panic,” she finishes.
I nod. “But I did it, because I didn’t want to cause a scene. Then we go to this tavern. He hits on the waitress the entire time, and barely pays any attention to me. Doesn’t even pay for my food.” I don’t mention the beers.
“Gotta kiss a lot of frogs before you find Prince Charming,” Beth says. She rubs my arm soothingly.
“That’s the thing,” I say as I sniffle. “He tried to kiss me and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He pinned me against the wall and groped me.”
“Thea,” she says as eyes search mine. A tenderness falls over her face as she looks at me. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“I just,” I say, my breath shaky, “feel so stupid. I just wanted him to like me.” Hot tears spill down my cheeks as I put my head in my hands.
Aunt Beth scoots closer on the couch and wraps her arms around me as I cry.
“Oh, Thea,” she murmurs, “I’m sorry. Sounds like he doesn’t deserve to even know you. He’s an idiot and don’t let him break your confidence. You’re a great girl and you deserve someone who treats you like the gold you are.”
I don’t respond.
“I slapped him when he touched me,” I say, pulling away to look at her with tearful eyes. “And then took off. I ran into Graham and he brought me here on his golf cart.”
Beth nods. “What did you say his last name is?” she asks after a moment.
I pull away and wipe at my face again. “Osborne.”
She stiffens. “Listen to me,” she says in all seriousness. “I never want you to see him again.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I huff. I don’t want to re-live this night.
“Seriously, Thea, Osborne boys are no good for you.”
“I just feel…” I trail off as I look around the living room, “used.”
“I know,” she says. “If Jake is anything like his father, and it sounds like he is, he’s an ass and a heartbreaker.”
“You know his dad?”
“You could…say that.”
“How?” I ask.
Beth smiles weakly. “That,” she says as she stands up, “is a story for another time. Now, why don’t you go put on your pajamas? I’ll make you some tea.”
I nod as I stand up and sniffle. Beth always seems to know what I need.
She walks into the kitchen, flipping the light on as I pad down the hall to my room. I quickly change into my favorite pajamas, one of Mom’s old long sleeve T-shirts and leggings.
Beth is placing a cup of tea on the table just as I walk back into the kitchen.
“Would you…want to bake with me?” I ask as I pick up the warm cup.
She turns around and a smile slowly spreads across her face.
“I’d like that,” she says before reaching into the fridge and pulling out the butter. “What do you want to bake?”
“Teach me how to make your cinnamon roll snickerdoodles,” I say, “please.”
“Your mom always loved those.”
“I know. Makes me feel closer to her.”
Beth smiles as she pulls the cinnamon from the cabinet.
I take a sip of the tea and set it back down on the table before joining her at the counter and rolling up my sleeves to get to work. I want to bake out this sadness and frustration, get my hands dirty and feel in control of the situation.
And I never want to see Jake ever again.