Consumed (34 page)

“Why do you put up with it?” I question him.

“Because she’s my mother...” he runs his fingers through his hair. “I feel like I owe it to her, I guess. I wasn’t the greatest kid.”

His words upset me. He’s still the son, not the parent. His mother should be taking care of the finances and the house. Not Seth.

We roll up in front of the Police Station and we climb out. It isn’t a headquarters or anything, just a small station. Seth’s fingers entwine with mine as he pulls me along beside him. Inside, the station smells of beer and hospital cleaner. A few tired people litter the waiting room and they eye us as we walk right up to the service desk.

“Hey Seth,” The officer extends his hand to Seth and he takes it. “Your mom is more upset than usual.”

Seth chuckles nervously. “I better get her home then.”

“No problem. She’s been asleep for the last hour.”

The officer steps out from behind the desk and gestures for Seth to follow him. He turns to me. “Wait here, okay?”

I nod.

Seth and the officer disappear around the corner, leaving me alone. I’m uncomfortable. I’ve never been inside a police station before and hopefully I never have to again. I don’t like feeling like I’ve done something wrong. I even get nervous when I walk past a police officer in the mall or in the street. I’m lame, I know.

Seth reappears cradling his sleeping mother. She’s not wearing the same outfit I saw her in this afternoon. She has traded the dress suit for a pair of black slacks, a pretty purple silk top and a pair of killer violet heels. Her long, black hair cascades over Seth’s arm and hangs loosely in the air. Seth walks past me, flicking his head toward the exit sign. I follow closely behind and I open the back door for him so he can lay his mother down on the back seat.

It took us a little while to get back to Seth’s house. He was going under the speed limit to avoid waking his mother. It didn’t matter. Once we pull into the driveway and the car turns off, his mom speaks.

“Sethy?” She whispers. “Did you have to pick me up again?”

My heart melts at her nickname for him. It’s adorable and I imagine she’s been calling him that since the day he was born. I look at Seth. His face is stormy and frustrated.

“Yes.” He replies. His tone is cold and lacking any empathy.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. “I was on my way to the program. I swear I was going to go this time.”

Seth climbs out of the car without replying. He opens the back door and extends his hand to his mom. I open my own door and slide out. When I walk over to the other side, his mother is already halfway out of the car.

She smiles drunkenly at me. “Natasha?”

“Olivia.” Seth corrects her, becoming increasingly frustrated.

“Seth, it’s okay.” I mutter.

“Olivia.” She slurs. “Right.”

His mom looks up at him as she slides the rest of her body out of the car. Seth wraps an arm around her waist supporting her weight like she’s no heavier than a child. She turns back to me. “I’m Vanessa.” She gestures to her face and body. “I’m not usually like this.”

Seth's expression darkens and he shakes his head. He’s an expert at holding his tongue. He is yet to say something to upset her.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He says, pulling her toward the house. When we go inside, I linger along behind them, all the way up the stairs and to his mom’s room. I don’t go inside. I’ve invaded enough personal space for tonight. I lean against the wall by the door frame, my gaze focusing on a painting of a cute bamboo tree.

“Sethy?” I hear her call to him. “I was planning on making myself better tonight...”

His voice comes in low. “And what happened?”

“I-I got to the doors and I couldn’t go in... I panicked. I didn’t want to admit that I’ve been such a failure.”

I strain my ear for his response, but it doesn’t come.

“I’ll go tomorrow... I promise.”

“Okay, good night.”

Seth steps out of the room and closes the door behind him. I give him no indication that I heard everything. I don’t want him to be embarrassed. I wrap my hands around his arm and snuggle in close as we walk towards his room. When we’re inside and tucked back into bed, he pulls me into his bare chest.

“I hope that was okay for you.” He mutters in my ear.

After all of that, how can he possibly be worrying about me? “It was. I’m glad she is home and safe.”

His hands squeeze me as he settles his head closer to my neck. “Me too.”

***

Seth’s deep voice wakes me up again. “Olivia.” He almost sings it in a happy tune. “You have work.”

My eyes shoot open and I sit up, letting half of the blanket fall to the floor. How’d I forget that I have work this morning? “What’s the time?”

I leap out of bed and my toes dig into the lush carpet as I run to the bathroom. I really need to pee. When I wash my hands and step back into the room, Seth is lying on back on his bed in a pair of his fighting shorts—the ones with the slits up the side—and a white t-shirt.

“Relax,” he smiles. “It’s still early. I was thinking we could have breakfast, go to the gym and then take you to work.”

Wow. He has it all planned out. “Do I have time for all that?” I ask, searching one of his walls for a clock. I find nothing.

He sits up. “It’s only five. You have four hours until work and I’m already late for training now let’s go.”

I follow him downstairs and the smell of meat and eggs are overwhelming—nauseatingly overwhelming. Sure enough, there are two big steaks bleeding all over each other in the frying pan and a fresh bowl of scrambled eggs sitting in the middle of the breakfast bar beside a pitcher of orange juice and a stack of buttered toast.

“Are you hungry?” He asks proudly, taking charge of the stove and shuffling the steaks around. Of course he’s excited about cooking me breakfast, making me feel even more like a douche bag.

“Steak? I thought fighter’s drink all of those random shakes.”

He laughs. “We do that too.”

His spatula slides underneath the thick slab of meat and the juice and blood run off it as he lays it on a plate and slides it across the bench. Oh, God. It stops right in front of me and I almost gag.

“Seth,” I groan pushing the plate away. “Do you have fruit or yogurt? Anything other than meat and eggs?” I feel rude. He obviously got up early to do this for me.

His brown eyes widen and he’s looking at me like I’m crazy. “You don’t like steak?”

“I do, just not early in the morning.”

“Well,” He announces opening the fridge. “You’re in luck because I have loads of fresh fruit and yogurt.”

He places apples, oranges, a container of blueberries and some strawberries on the counter. He reaches back into the fridge and pulls out a tub of Greek yogurt. I watch him effortlessly maneuver his way around the kitchen as he pulls the bowl from a cupboard and brings it over to me. I scoop yogurt and blueberries into my bowl while Seth eats his steak.

“Will your mom be joining us for breakfast?” I ask when I’m halfway through my food.

He shakes his head. “She won’t be up until this afternoon.”

He stuffs the last piece of steak in his mouth and takes his plate, dropping it in the sink. He washes his mouth and I slide my bowl over to him.

I put on my tennis shoes and join Seth in the car.

“Can you swing by my place so I can grab a change of clothing for work?”

“Can do, baby.” He laughs, pulling out of the driveway.

He’s very chipper this morning, very upbeat. After last night I assumed he’d be down in the dumps today. “You’re happy,” I state. “I like it.”

“I have no reasons to be unhappy today. Normally, when I pick my mother up from the police station I go to the gym as soon as it opens and smash the bag for a while. This morning, however, I woke up to your pretty face and I remembered that
you
are
my
girlfriend.” He smiles sideways at me and reaches across to squeeze my thigh. “It’s going to be a good day.”

Heat spreads throughout my chest and into my cheeks at the thought of him waking up so happy, and for no other reason other than I’m his girlfriend. It’s sweet. It’s sickeningly sweet and I love it. It makes me feel special and who doesn’t like feeling special?

We didn’t spend too long at my house. Seth waited in the car while I ran inside and grabbed a sweater, a pair of black slacks and some short black heels. I made sure I grabbed my make-up bag and hair brush, too. I also managed to stuff some tights and a t-shirt into my backpack so I can work out. When we get to the gym, Seth’s coach Darryl is all over him, chastising him for being late and unprofessional. Jackson is also here, leaning against the wall shaking his head at us in disapproval. I split off, leaving Seth to deal with his pissed off team and head to the shower room. I change into my clothes and come back out. Seth is in the boxing ring with his sparring partner. I avert my gaze as Seth’s fist is about to connect with the other guy’s face. I don’t see it, but I hear the guy hit the floor and I cringe, picturing everything in my head.

“Olly!” Dad calls from his window. I look up and see him hanging halfway out his window to talk to me. The thought of him falling makes me nervous.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hold on,” he smiles. “I’ll come down.”

I scuff my shoes along the mat while I wait for him. He rounds the corner looking all cheery and alert. “It’s been a while since you’ve come to the gym.” He says, pulling me into a hug.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy. But I’m here today.”

Dad slings a heavy arm over my shoulder, walking me toward the ring. I glance sideways at him and see one French fry poking out of his pocket. I pull it out and glare at him. “You’re supposed to be eating healthy. You know, for the sake of your heart.”

He flicks the fry from my hand and changes the subject. “Your mom and I came to your place last night, but you weren’t home.”

My cheeks heat up and I feel uncomfortable telling him I was at Seth’s.

“Sorry, Rick.” Seth pants, smiling confidently down at us from the ring. “She was with me.”

Shouldn’t Darryl be here making sure Seth is paying attention to training, instead of intruding on my conversations? I look around the gym. Darryl is talking into his phone, his face serious and focused on a spot on the mat. Jackson is leaning on Darryl, trying to get in on the conversation. I turn my attention back to Seth and Dad.

“Well, do you want to tell him?” Seth asks. “Or should I?”

“Tell him what?”

“That we’re together, officially.”

I smile, coyly. “Oh, right. Yeah. Dad we’re dating now, so...”

Dad’s thin lips curl up into a wide smile and in turn it makes me smile. He seems so young, so happy. “That’s great!” Dad laughs, slapping me on the shoulder. “Maybe someday soon I’ll have Seth Marc as my son in law.”

Seth and I chuckle nervously—I even think we both flushed. Neither one of us are thinking that far ahead. I turn from them both and head to the treadmill. If I stay and chat, I’ll never get any exercise time in and God knows my Dad can chat forever if he really wants to. I stretch a little, start up the treadmill and jog at a brisk pace. Every now and then I’ll look over at Seth training with his team. When he spars, my Dad is in the ring with him. His eyes wide like a kid in a candy store as he chats to Seth. The spar partner lies on the floor before Seth’s feet and Seth gives him his arm. I watch curiously as my dad inaudibly tells Seth what to do. The spar partner wraps his legs around Seth’s arm and pulls tightly. I wince, picturing the strain on the elbow. My dad crouches on the floor, talking—always talking. Seth nods in agreement and lifts the spar partner off the floor before slamming him back down. The guy lets go off Seth’s arm and Dad pats his back, happy with the result. Darryl and Jackson are setting up mats in the training room. I stop my treadmill. I want to see what they’re doing. I only ever see Seth boxing or sparring. I never see him actually work out. I peer around the door and I’m surprised when I see only a few chin-up bars in the room.

“What, no tractor tires?” I ask Jackson.

Jackson shakes his head and straightens a might on the floor. “Not this year.”

“Seth works on a body weight program.” Darryl chimes in. “Meaning he doesn’t lift excess weight, only his own.”

That’s still a lot of weight. “So what exactly does he do?”

“Every day, Seth does five sets of as many push-ups as he can, repping out until he reaches muscular failure. He will recover for 60 seconds and then begin his next set of push ups.” He points to the chin up bar. “Three days a week he does five sets of max rep chin-ups and some body weight squats. Running, skipping and other exercises are worked in there, too.”

“So no weights, no bells or machines? That’s a little simple for a fighter, isn’t it?” I have no idea. I’m just going off what I’ve seen from my dad’s DVDs.

“Seth likes a more... ‘Rocky’ type of work out and despite its simplicity; it’s a remarkably balanced program. If he makes pro then we might look at introducing machines.”