I could hear the needle drag across the record playing in Jenna’s head. “What?”
He carried on with loading the box into his Jeep while I stood dumbfounded. Maybe if I held perfectly still, they would forget I was here.
Fat chance.
She glared at me with so much accusation in her eyes, it was a miracle I stayed on my feet. This power struggle was classic Jenna. She was a storm. She’d get all worked up, only for her emotions to peter out, and then she’d be able to see reason. I just had no idea how long her category five hurricane was going to last.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She can’t be your girlfriend,” she announced.
He didn’t miss a beat. “You don’t get a say in who I date. How many more times do I have to tell you that?”
She stared at her son like he’d lost his mind. “She’s too old for you.”
“Nope.” He hauled another box up into his arms and shot me a grin. “I think she’s just right.”
Jenna made a sound of pure dissatisfaction, and her hands curled into fists. She was so upset she was shaking, and while I hated seeing my friend in distress, I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be good for her long-term. She needed to give him a chance to be his own man. To be independent.
Didn’t she understand her attempts to shield him had also prevented him from learning the lessons that failure could teach?
“Look,” he said pointedly, “we’re sorry we lied, and it’s not a great excuse, but the way you’re acting right now? It’s exactly why we didn’t want to tell you.”
I pressed my fingertips to my forehead and massaged the wrinkle forming there. During the drive over, he’d reassured me he would handle it, so I’d tried to stay quiet. The last thing I wanted was to come between them more than I already had.
Yet, as I stood there, my irritation with Jenna began to grow. She had every right to be upset. I’d been a terrible friend. But him? “Are you throwing your son out . . . because you don’t like who he’s dating?”
Her face turned an ugly shade of red as it swung toward me. “I’m not talking to you.”
“That’s fine. You can be as mad at me as you want. I deserve it.” I cast a hand toward him. “But he doesn’t. Let him be free to do what he wants. He’s an adult, Jenna.”
“Don’t you dare lecture me! Adult or not, he’s still my son. I know that doesn’t mean shit to you, but I’m trying to stop him from making some truly awful decisions.”
She didn’t say it, but it was implied by her glare, and I sensed the heat rising in Troy. Which was ironic, since his tone was frosty. “Okay, so Erika’s good enough to be your friend—your best friend—but still not good enough for me?”
His mother threw her hands up and looked around like she couldn’t believe no one else was nearby to hear this ridiculousness. “No, she’s not good enough and she’s not my friend. Because if she were, she wouldn’t have slept with you!” She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “Troy. This is unacceptable, and all I’ve ever wanted is what’s best for you.”
“No,” he said. “All you’ve ever wanted is what’s best for you.” His posture was tense and confrontational. “You don’t care about what I want.”
She gasped. “Of course, I do.”
“Really? Do I even like working for Bill’s company?”
His question should have been rhetorical because even I knew the answer, and yet . . . she looked confused. As if she’d never even considered it.
His harsh tone left no doubt. “I told you—oh my God—so many times! But you only hear what you want. If you’d listened, you could have talked Bill out of offering his company to me. Instead, you pushed me into that situation and forced me to make everyone unhappy.”
Unease seeped into the edge of her expression, because she knew there was some truth in what he’d said, and she worried she was losing control of the conversation. “I heard you, but it’s such a good company. Steady and reliable—”
He sighed loudly and stared up at the sky. “You’re proving my point, Mom, that what I want doesn’t matter.”
Jenna stood in her driveway, struggling with the wild swing of emotions going through her. Rage at me battled with her guilt over controlling him, and it put her off-balance. “What you want matters, Troy.”
“Yeah?” He was firm, but beneath it there was hope. He wanted to believe her. “Prove it. I want to try for a career in music, so you can start showing up and actually supporting me.”
He turned, his chest lifted with pride and his eyes absolute as he pointed a sharp finger at me. His words brimmed with determination.
“And I want this woman. You need to get on board with that.”
His defiant, sure claim on me made goosebumps burst down my legs as breath halted in my lungs.
Jenna was frozen awkwardly, becoming a statue whose only movement was the stunned blink of her eyes. After an eternity, her anger won out and her voice turned cold.
“No,” she announced. “Never.”
She slung down her ultimatum with defiance burning in her eyes. It’s her or me, she silently screamed at him.
It didn’t take Troy long to make his decision. He stacked one box on top of another and then picked them up.
“Fine. See you around,” he said, and made his way to the Jeep.
Holy shit. I’d thought I couldn’t possibly feel worse than I had when we’d arrived, but I’d been wrong. I’d not only destroyed my friendship, but his relationship with his mother. It was hard not to break inside, and to distract, I focused on grabbing whatever I could so we could flee.
I had a grip on the handle of his suitcase when she abruptly spoke. Her voice was hollow and meant only for me. “He’s making a huge mistake with you.”
It wounded me deeply, but I pretended her words didn’t reach me. “It’s his to make.”
Erika
It broke my heart when Troy asked if he could spend the night at my place, and then he broke it all over again when he was unsure which bedroom he’d be staying in. Like he was worried he was overstepping, and since we’d already had sex today, I’d need some distance.
It couldn’t be further from the truth.
I want this woman, he’d declared.
It was too soon for me to be having all these feelings, but they existed regardless, and I needed him to know the same was true for me.
After dinner, I got out my guitar and played the song I’d started composing after our desperate kiss against the mirror when he’d found out he’d won the spot. He not only picked up the new song quickly, he suggested some tweaks and helped me improve it.
We didn’t have sex that night when we went to bed together. Maybe it felt disrespectful to Jenna while she was still coming to grips with our relationship, but more than anything, I think we both wanted to connect in a new and different way. We kissed, and talked, and snuggled, and what had been a helluva day at least ended as a fantastic night.
Was this a glimpse of what could be? Because it didn’t feel like a mistake.
It felt right.