They each hold a coffee. My dad slides one over for me, also putting a white bakery bag in the middle of the table.
“We heard about NASA,” my dad says.
My mom crosses her legs and looks at her lap.
I have no idea how they heard, but it doesn’t really matter. “I haven’t accepted the position.”
My mom opens her mouth, but my dad puts up his hand to stop her. “May we ask why? Does this have to do with Dylan?”
“Yes and no.”
My mom sits up straighter, opening her mouth to say something again, but my dad clears his throat. I guess they had a conversation before they came here.
“Can we talk about it?” he asks.
“Sure.”
He opens the bag and places a smiley face cookie in front of me. The ones I would get when we went to the grocery store when I was younger. It was my prize if I calculated the groceries with tax correctly.
I smile. “Thanks. What do I need to do to eat it?”
“No conditions,” my dad says.
I break off a small piece and eat the sugary goodness.
“So, Dylan… is this serious?” my dad asks.
I’m not sure my dad has started a conversation like this before. It feels odd, but it’s a nice change.
“I really like him.” I refrain from saying more. Although I think the feelings are there, I’ve yet to truly accept that I love him.
“Is enough to throw away your entire life?” Mom sneaks her own comment in, and my dad scowls at her.
The frayed thread between us snaps.
“I’m not throwing my life away. Have you ever thought that maybe I threw it away all these years you’ve forced me into something you loved? That I did math only because you forced me into a life of numbers and equations? I’m not you. I don’t have the same dreams you do.” I push away the cookie that did come with stipulations.
“He has no future. He’s great now because you’re twenty-eight. But what happens when you’re thirty and you’re ready for marriage and kids? That guy isn’t going to stick around.” Her lips purse and she looks at me with disdain.
“How do you know that?”
She shakes her head. “His type is clear as Saran Wrap. I did not bring up a daughter to be this blind. If you don’t take this job, you’re going to wake up one day as some single mom and saying you wish you would have listened to me.”
I roll my eyes and I’m not sure they could get any farther behind my eyelids. “You do this all the time. You don’t know him. You’re stereotyping him because of his appearance. And regardless, he’s not the reason I might not accept the job. It’s the fact that I don’t want a position that revolves around mathematics.”
My mom paces in front of us, looking at my dad as though they’re a team and he needs to tag in now.
Dad says, “Sweetheart, you’re good at what you do. You’re more brilliant than most and you should use that gift you were given. What will you do if you don’t take this job?”
I shrug. The bakery idea sounds nice, but I’m not sure I want to put all my eggs in that basket either. “I’m not sure, but some people are lucky and find what they love. I want that.”
My mind travels to Dylan and how when he broke his arm, he was depressed because he couldn’t work. How many people can say that? Dylan loves what he does.
I shake my head. “You know what? It’s time that you face facts. It’s my decision now. Time for you to let your baby bird go.”
My mom huffs.
“Sweetheart,” my dad says.
“No! When will you love me for me? Be happy for me? Everything comes with a stipulation or a condition or a guilt trip if I don’t do what you think I should.” My fists pound on the table and the smiley cookie cracks into pieces under my right hand. “I’m done. You two can see yourselves out.”
My mom swipes her coffee off the table. “The way you speak to us with such disrespect.” She shakes her head, heading toward the door.
“Respect earns respect, Mom,” I say, but she’s gone.
My dad hesitates, but he’s just a nicer version of my mom. “I had hopes that we could heal things between us.”
“You had hopes that you could convince me. I suggest you stop coming here expecting a different result. Either you both learn to love me for me or stay out of my life.” The words are hard to say, but I mean them. I can’t be on this merry-go-round anymore.
My dad’s shoulders fall and his eyes lock on mine. Probably to figure out if I’m bluffing. But there’s no bluffing. I should’ve had the backbone to say this a long time ago.
He nods and stands, following my mom out the door. The click of the door shutting brings a finality I’m not sure I was prepared for.
Once they’re gone, I grab my purse and leave my apartment, needing the security of Dylan’s arms. His reassurance that I did the right thing.
I open the doors of Ink Envy with my tears barely held in check. If he’s with a client, I’ll wait in his office.
Lyle is at the front desk and glances up from his sketchbook like every other time I’ve been here. Frankie’s station is empty, and Jax’s tattoo machine is aimed on some woman’s pelvis. He nods to me, pausing because he’s just as perceptive as Dylan when it comes to people’s feelings.
I see no sign of Dylan and ask Lyle, “Where is he?”
Lyle looks to Jax to answer the question and sourness fills my stomach.
“He’s in the back doing a discreet tattoo.” Jax tips his head toward the back room. I start down the aisle between stations. “Maybe wait in the waiting area or his office.”
He’s right. I can’t very well barge in there.
“Lyle, go tell Dylan that Rian’s here,” Jax says.
Lyle drops his sketchbook on the table. A minute later, he returns from the back room. “He said he’s finishing up. You can wait in his office.”
I head to the office, but on my way, the door of the room Dylan’s working in opens. When I look in, I spot a girl still straightening her clothes. Whatever they’re talking about, they’re laughing, and Dylan wipes his mouth with the collar of his shirt.
He sees me and says, “I’ll be right with you,” as if I’m a customer.
The girl who’s flushed from head to toe looks me up and down as though I’m her competition.
Instead of going into his office, I hang out in the hallway, watching him check her out. He allows her to run a fingernail down his bicep. She hands him a piece of paper, and he slides it into his back pocket with a smile.
All those tears that were threatening to come out dry up with the anger twirling around my body like a tornado.
She leaves after kissing him on the cheek and gives him a pat on the ass.
Lyle stares at me in the hallway, and Dylan catches sight of Lyle before turning toward me. I have two choices: get the hell out of here, or stay and demand answers.
Why would I waste a night when I feel so feisty? I open his office door, go in, and slam it shut, preparing for the hurricane that’s about to hit landfall.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rian
I knew he wouldn’t dodge the confrontation, so when he opens the office door two minutes later, I’m not surprised.