Between Desire and Denial: Chapter 11
Between Desire and Denial: A Fake Dating Romance
The silence in the room was so loud I might have asked for headphones had I not wanted to witness my stepmotherâs obvious discomfort.
She floundered for a whole second before she straightened and smoothed her black work pants. âOh, so no niceties, I guess? You want to just jump right into your theatrics? Because I donât. Iâm not in the mood today. Iâm not going to tolerate you being emotional for no reason while youâre visiting me.â
âIâm not visiting you. You were too busy, remember? Iâm visiting Knox. And obviously thereâs something wrong.â
âHonestly,â she huffed and turned toward the fridge like my questions were all too much for her. âWhy is your first reaction to think somethingâs even wrong?â
âIs that a joke? Have you looked at him? Two years ago, he was twice the size he is now andââ
âSo he lost some weight.â She shrugged. âI wish I could lose a few pounds.â Her canned laugh skittered around the kitchen, and I stood there in shock as I took in the clean counters, the expensive art on the walls, and the fancy table settings even though no one would be coming to dinner.
âThis isnât a joke about weight, Georgette. Iâm asking you about my brother. Whatâs wrong?â I whispered, trying my best not to scream at her.
She rolled her eyes again and turned to the cabinet I knew was full of liquor. âI guess youâre going to make me deal with this instead of your father. In that case, Iâll opt for liquor.â
She took a swig of pure vodka before she got a glass out to pour more than two fingers. My stepmother didnât drink hard liquor except at home where she could hide how she downed it. She poured me a glass, too, and slid it my way.
I crossed my arms, not willing to drink with her. âTell me whatâs going on.â
She scoffed like I was being ridiculous. âHow about nothing? Donât make a mountain out of a mole hill. Jesus, why are you always so dramatic?â
âThis is concern, not dramatics,â I clarified without raising my voice, though it shook with rage.
âYou were always too concerned.â She waved me off. âWas it those theatre classes and programs we allowed you to stay in after your mother passed? And then you would write those books with so much drama in them, I wondered what was wrong with you.â
âNo need to wonder anymore. Iâve been gone, living on my own for years.â
âExactly. Youâve been gone, and weâve been living here as a family without you while you flounce around with that Keelani girl doing God knows what and wearing those stupid flowers in your hair.â She waved at the small plumeria I had behind my ear.
Iâd confided in her once that it felt like a connection to my mother, that I enjoyed having a bright color in my life even on a gloomy day. I offered her one once, but sheâd wrinkled her nose and told me they would look immature on her as a lawyer. And since that day, sheâd reminded me of her disdain for them.
Still, I took the high road because it wasnât about us today. âKee has provided me with a lot of opportunities, Georgette. It was a college job that allowed me to travel. I wanted to see the world. You know that. So if we could focus on Knoxââ
âWhat real opportunities? You come back here after two years to tell us what? Did you even get that ridiculous degree you were so obsessed with because one professor thought you showed promise?â
Her words were pointed and cruel. They hit fast and precise too. I remembered how sheâd laughed at me that night when Iâd told them all I was changing my major. It was the night I knew I wouldnât be back to visit. âIâm working on it.â My confidence shrank as I answered her.
âGreat. Youâre working on becoming a journalist. God. Donât you realize you have a status to uphold as a Monroe? Your father is a major player in Hollywood. That makes you part of it too,â she grumbled into her tumbler before rounding the island to go sit on the barstool. âWe raised you to be so much more than this. Then, you come to a party and announce youâre changing majors.â
âI was doing what I wanted for once. What my mother had always told me to do.â
âYour mother,â she scoffed. âAs if I didnât have a hand in raising you up to what you should become.â
âRaising me? My mother raised me, Georgette.â I wouldnât take away that credit ever.
Georgetteâs eyes narrowed, and they burned with that evil fire I knew she had in her. âYour father should have smacked you harder across your face the night you left. You were always ungrateful, and here you are, bringing her up in my house. Being ungrateful again.â
And thatâs where the problem has always lied with us. I wouldnât erase the memory of my mother. Ever. âThis is her motherâs house, actually.â I raised my chin, ready to go to war with her, but then I held up my hands. âYou know what? It doesnât matter right now. Nothing matters but my brother. Iâm not here to get into it with you.â
She flexed her thin fingers on the tumbler before she downed all that was in her glass. Then, she reached for mine. âFine. Then, leave. Call your father about Knox. Heâs the one running around with him half the time. I only took Knox to the doctor for his anxiety because your father was busy.â
âDad was busy?â I deadpanned. Of course he was. Busy like he was when Mom got sick too.
âHeâs taken much more of an interest in Knox as of late. They have actually been working on business outside of Paradise Grove.â
âWhat type of business?â My father had always been very involved in the film industry, but he made time for nothing else.
âWell, thatâs not your concern. Theyâre providing for this household.â She said it so fast and in a high-pitched voice. I narrowed my eyes to try and find the lie. Something wasnât right as I watched her smoothing her hair like she was irritated that Iâd even ask. âPlus, itâs good for your brother to make connections in high places. Networking helps with success.â
âBut with who? And if itâs the wrong sort of people, and heâs acting like thisââ
âYou think your father wouldnât have your brotherâs best interests at heart? Also the doctors prescribed this dosage.â She justified it again, as if his temperament was fine as long as doctors were involved. âWe have worked on it, and we have balanced everything.â
âThatâs not balanced.â I pointed upstairs, fury in my voice as I said it.
âHow would you know?â She rolled her eyes and poured herself more vodka. âYou havenât been around.â
âIâve ⦠been working.â It wasnât a good enough excuse. I knew that. I took a deep breath as I settled on what I knew had to be done. âBut he needs someone.â He needed support. He needed a family. He needed our mom.
But she wasnât there. And I couldnât bring her back. All I could offer was myself.
âWell, heâs got his friends and us.â Georgette checked her watch, making it obvious she wanted me gone. âAnyway, if youâre waiting to see your father, you wonât.â
âKnoxâs also got me. Iâll be here.â I was going to make sure Iâd be here whether he wanted me to be or not. I chewed my cheek as I stared at the stairs.
Georgette didnât seem to care about the proclamations I was making. âWhatever. I need to get back to work. So you need to leave. And donât go bother Knox with a goodbye. Heâs quiet, which means heâs asleep. Next time, call before you come over too. Unannounced visits arenât best for our family.â She waved me toward the front door, making it clear she didnât feel I belonged in that family of hers.
I didnât. And my brother didnât either.
I wiped away the tears forming in my eyes and told myself I needed a new plan. Suddenly Iâd discovered the roots Iâd had in Paradise Grove were all tangled up and buried deeper than I realized as I thought of my brother being a shell of a human here in this place. I wouldnât leave him here.
Not again.
I tried not to talk to a single person on the way back to Dimitriâs. I stalked down the sidewalk, passing a couple of homes with my head down, but I was just one house away when I heard, âOlive Bee? That really you? Youâre back?â
I winced before looking up and seeing Jameson standing on the porch of the house next to Dimitriâs.
âI go just by Olive now, Jameson.â
He chuckled that familiar laugh that used to give me butterflies. âAw, well.â He shook his head like he wasnât going to listen. He was a few years older than me, but weâd always found a way to hang out when we were young, and then we sniffed around one another as we got older. Heâd come back from college for my motherâs funeral and walked with me for hours that day, telling me leaving home would be the best thing I could do if thatâs what my mom had wanted for me.
âYou finally home to stay?â He lifted a dark eyebrow that matched his almost jet-black hair.
âFor a while.â I crossed my arms and rocked back on my heels before I saw a little girl come running full speed out of the house. She didnât even hesitate when she got to the porch stairs, and I gasped just as Jameson caught her in his arms without even turning his head.
The smile that spread across Jamesonâs face showed me that he was attached to her. âSheâs practicing being a flying squirrel.â
âOh.â I didnât really know what to say. Jameson with a kid was surprising enough, and him being responsible was even more so. âYou have a daughter.â
He smiled big. âI do have a daughter, Olive Bee.â He looked down at the girl with his same jet-black hair and said, âThis here is Olive, Franny. We call her Olive Bee sometimes because her middle name is Bee after bumblebees.â
âSheâs no bee, Daddy.â She glanced at me. âIâm Franny. Iâm four.â
âThatâs very nice.â I nodded, wanting to back away. I wasnât good with children, wasnât even good with my younger brother.
âOlive Bee, you okay?â
âIâm â¦â The question brought tears to my eyes, but I couldnât fall apart on the street. âIâm fine. Just catching up with everything thatâs been happening here.â
âA lot has changed.â He said it with a heaviness as he stared over at my familyâs house.
âYeah. None of it feels right.â I crossed my arms over my chest.
âJust watch where youâre digging. You know how Paradise Grove is.â He said it lightly, but there was a hint of truth in his tone that I caught.
My gut feeling of something being wrong grew, but I held the idea close to my chest. âA lot has changed. Too much.â I sighed. âBut Iâm back. So, maybe weâll see how I end up fitting in here now, huh?â
âYou wonât fit in with that Hardy here with you. Heâs got no idea what it takes to build up a community like ours.â He chuckled. âHow did you get tangled up with him?â
âSame circles, I guess.â I shrugged. Weâd have to get our story straight if I was staying.
âNo one likes that condo building, the idea of that office structure, or the strip mall heâs trying to get passed.â
I smiled softly, trying to appear positive, like a nice girlfriend would. âItâll all work out. I wouldnât let him put anything here that would be bad for us.â
âWhy not?â He smirked at me. âWe used to hate this place.â
âYeah, well, weâre both back, right?â
âI never really left,â he admitted and looked at his daughter like he was contemplating if this was the right place to raise her. âYou got any plans to leave that Hardy in the dust so I can really stall his building plans?â
I sighed and shrugged. âYou all love to give a newcomer a hard time.â
âTruthfully, Iâm going to give anyone whoâs dating you a hard time. I thought youâd come back for me one day.â
I hummed. âMaybe youâll give him a chance for me then?â
âWeâll see.â He winked, and I waved at him as I walked toward what Iâd decided was going to be my new home for the summer.
I contemplated my stepmotherâs words as I made my way up our driveway, and when I swung open the door, Dimitri was sitting in the living room, working like he wasnât at all concerned that Iâd left for an hour. âGetting your luggage packed now?â
âIâm staying,â I announced to him. âAll summer. What do you need me to do?â