Falling for Autumn (14 page)

“Autumn, he sounds wonderful. I like that you started out as friends first. That’s the way your father and I got together. I was actually seeing someone else at the time, but the more time I spent with your dad the more I realized I was with the wrong man.” My mother’s eyes clouded over and she sighed. “What’s his name?”

“Blake.” I chewed on my lower lip before finally exhaling one long breath. My mom wasn’t going to be pleased, but if my relationship with Blake became serious, she’d find out eventually. “He’s also a football player for the college.”

My mother’s eyes narrowed and I wished she wouldn’t be so predictable in her reaction. I empathized with her feelings, but if anyone should be wary it should be me.

“Autumn, must it always be athletes? I understand the appeal, honey, but can’t you for once go for a boy with more brains than brawn?”

“Mom, you’re painting Blake as a stereotypical jock without knowing him at all…”

“Autumn, you should know better. After what those boys did to you at school. They were bred to believe they are gods, above reproach, and that every woman is their own personal plaything.” My mother glared at the wall behind me. “And they don’t change when they become men. I mean Thomas Bridges was a decorated football coach and he thought it was perfectly fine to be attracted to a seventeen-year-old girl.”

My stomach seized up and I blinked away tears. I had to stand my ground when it came to Blake and not show weakness. “He’s not Mr. Bridges or Hunter or Talon. Blake is good to me and I’d be a hypocrite to think less of him because he plays football.”

My mother walked over and cupped my cheeks gently in her palms. “I trust your judgment and I want you happy. You’re smart and beautiful and you deserve a man who will cherish you. I have a hard time letting go and I have so much guilt over what happened. I feel like I should’ve seen the signs and if I was a better parent, I could’ve shielded you.”

“Mom, don’t blame yourself. And honestly, I’m sick of blaming myself. I want to move on and Blake is helping me do that.”

She stroked my cheek with her thumb before releasing a long breath through her teeth. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’m sure he’s wonderful and as long as he treats you well, I’ll keep the pitchforks in the shed.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

While giving me another overpowering hug, she relieved the tension by giving me a noogie. I giggled and beamed at her. My parents had been my safe haven for so long, it would be just as hard for them to let go. But I was ready to take risks again. I wouldn’t be foolish with my choices, but putting myself out there and not letting my neuroses hold me back could be the best thing for me. My heart could be broken in the process, but it wasn’t the only possible ending.

I flipped onto my belly as I tried unsuccessfully to find something to watch on TV. Since I had no hometown friends, it made spring break a very uneventful week. I had exchanged text messages with Casey and Lexi, but they were busy reconnecting with their high school friends. My parents and I spent a lot of time together, but by eight o’clock, they were unwinding for the night by watching television and getting ready for bed. Blake’s nightly phone calls were the one thing I looked forward to after the sun went down.

I shut off the television and took a minute to study my old bedroom. The reason I left my side of the dorm room bare was because I was trying to define college Autumn. I felt zero connection to the girl who had decorated my bedroom. There were cheerleading trophies and plaques next to pom-poms and sparkling hair ribbons. All of the furniture was the color of bone and accented with girlish touches like my pink frilly bedspread and a bedazzled lamp. The room was tacky and overdone and I decided it was time to redecorate. I supposed I never cared enough to bother changing anything after I quit cheerleading, but if I was going to spend breaks at my parents’, I should have a room that didn’t give me the urge to vomit.

My phone rang and my heart fluttered as I answered, “Hi, Blake.”

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Thinking I may have decorated my bedroom using every teen girl cliché as inspiration. It’s giving me a headache just looking at the walls. No wonder I left my dorm room plain for so long.”

At the dorm, after hanging up Blake’s print on my wall, I had picked up a few more posters at the bookstore. I picked simple and feminine art prints, relaxing images I could get lost in before I fell asleep at night. The Georgia O’Keefe print evoked the most emotion because I could attach it to the memory of my trip with Blake to the museum. I was trying to locate the print of the painting he had chosen for his term paper, thinking it would be nice if we both had a physical manifestation of the turning point in our relationship.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Probably read for a couple of hours before bed.” I shrugged although he couldn’t see me. I had thought of making up an exciting itinerary of what I had planned at home, but decided to drop the pretense immediately. I wouldn’t pretend with Blake and be embarrassed over who I was.

“Why don’t we go out? I’ll come pick you up.”

I sat up in bed. “Blake, it’s an hour and a half drive.”

“So what? I want to see you and of course you want to see my sexiness.” I laughed and he continued, “Come on, say yes and I’ll hop in my car right now.”

“Yes, of course.” There was no reason to hesitate. Although I would see him again in a few days, I wanted the instant gratification of being near him right away. “I’ll just let my parents know and get changed. I’ll text you my address.”

After we hung up, I took a quick ten-minute shower and tried to decide what to wear. We hadn’t discussed where we would go, but I figured it would be casual. I put on a black tank with a sweetheart neckline and a pair of black leggings. To break up the black, I added a gray open-knit cardigan. Instead of pulling my hair back like usual, I left it down and spritzed it to soften the waves. After applying a raspberry-colored stain to my lips and swiping my lashes with mascara, I felt ready to go.

I padded downstairs and found my parents watching game shows in the family room. My mom’s eyebrows lifted, as she noticed I had changed out of my yoga pants and T-shirt. “Are you going out?”

“Yes, Blake wants to take me out. Is that okay?”

My father nodded while my mother’s smile was strained. “Wonderful, we can’t wait to meet him.”

“Wait, what? You want to meet him?”

My mother stared at me as if I had grown a second head. “Of course. What did you expect? For us to be fine with some man honking his horn and you taking off without us at least getting a good physical description and a peek at his license plate?”

“Really, Mom? You went there?”

“I get that you’re in college and don’t have to answer to us while living there. But you told me Blake treated you with respect. I don’t think it’s very respectful to come to your home and not at least say hello to your parents.”

My dad put down his newspaper on the coffee table in front of him. “Your mom has a point.”

It was unavoidable—Blake would have to pass Vivian and Carl
Dorey’s inspection before I left the house. Blake meeting my parents was awkward on several levels. For one, I didn’t know how serious we were about one another. Meeting the parents seemed like an event reserved for couples dating for months. Also, my mom could end up embarrassing me by trying to prove Blake unworthy of my affections. I imagined her quizzing him on art and literature to get her point across that there wasn’t much depth beneath his handsome exterior.

I wanted to avoid meeting Blake’s mother as long as possible. From what he told me, she sounded awful and would probably consider me a distraction in his pursuit for NFL glory. He was close to his sister, but I wouldn’t expect an introduction after only dating a couple of weeks.

When Blake arrived an hour later, my thumbnail was chewed to the quick. I had texted him to give him advance warning about coming inside before we went out, but he hadn’t returned my text. I assumed he was driving and didn’t have a chance to reply. I jumped out of the armchair when I heard the doorbell ring.

Before my mother could get to the door, I hurried over. Blake smiled as we locked eyes, but I could sense his disquiet. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” I parroted back. “We can head out in a sec.”

His movements were stiff as he walked by me into the house. His size was overwhelming and everything in the house dwarfed in comparison. My mother was waiting for him in the foyer, straining her neck to study his face. She held out her hand. “Vivian
Dorey. I’m Autumn’s mother.”

“I’m Blake Preston. It’s nice to meet you.” His gaze moved over to the direction of my father, who remained on the couch.

My dad rose and took long strides to reach Blake. My dad pumped Blake’s hand vigorously as he said, “I’m Autumn’s dad, Carl. It’s always nice to meet a friend of Autumn’s.”

“Blake, do you mind taking off your sneakers? We have a no shoe policy around here,” my mother said, gesturing to her own bare feet. Blake looked surprised by the request and looked to me for guidance. I assumed he hoped, as I did, we would be in and out of the house in record time. 

My mother was being antagonizing, but she only gave me an innocent look.

“It’s not necessary, Mom. We’re leaving in a minute.”

“What’s the rush? Blake may want to stretch his legs after the long drive,” she countered.

“It’s not a problem, I’ll take off my shoes,” Blake said and sat down on the bench my mother had in place to implement her rule. As Blake focused on untying his sneakers, I tightened my jaw and glared in my mom’s direction.

My mother ignored me and turned her attention back on Blake. “So, Blake, where are you from? Do your parents live nearby the school?”

“I have an apartment a couple of miles from campus that I live in year-round, but I grew up in Clark.”

My mother’s lip downturned and the lines on her forehead became more pronounced. She seemed displeased by his answer and I tried to puzzle out the reason. I guessed it was because he had an apartment and she had concerns about my virtue being compromised. I could’ve reassured her that if anyone had untoward thoughts in our relationship, it was me.

My mother temporarily distracted me, but I took a second to indulge in how gorgeous Blake looked for our date. He had rolled up the sleeves of his plaid button-down to his elbows and I noticed his skin had already taken on a deeper golden hue from his regular outdoor workouts. His jeans were distressed with a relaxed fit, hugging his muscular thighs before tapering off. His
caramel brown hair was damp with the ends curling around his ears. With a small nick on the corner of his chin, I guessed he shaved before arriving to take me out.

Everyone was staring at me and my cheeks flamed as I realized I must’ve spaced out. My mother’s voice was strained as she said, “Blake asked where you would like to go, Autumn.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Valley Amusements? They have a pizza place, bowling alley, and arcade.”

“Sounds great,” Blake said and I was comforted when I saw the stiff set of his shoulders had relaxed.

“So, you play ball for Cook? How did the team do this year?”

I grinned at my dad’s question. I appreciated him trying to make Blake feel comfortable, especially after my mother’s likely upcoming inquisition.

“Good, sir. We were nine and four during the season and second place in the conference.”

“Blake was MVP,” I offered. “He had almost two thousand rushing yards and made eighteen touchdowns.”

Blake gave me a quizzical smile. “How do you know that?”

“I read a couple of articles about you in the campus newspaper. You told me you were good, but I didn’t know you were crazy good.”

My mom interrupted. “Do you want to borrow my black heels, Autumn? They would look nice with your pants.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, take a walk with me upstairs to grab them.” My mother volleyed her head between my father and Blake before she said, “We’ll be just a sec.”

Blake nodded while my father began asking him more questions about Cook’s football team. My father had no problem finding common ground with anyone and I was glad he wasn’t peppering Blake with uncomfortable questions about his intentions toward me.

Following my mother upstairs, I understood she was looking for an opportunity to talk in private. As we entered the master bedroom, she gently closed the door behind her. “Autumn,
you can’t be serious
.”

“What? You talked to him for five seconds and you’ve already decided you don’t like him?”

“Blake seems fine. It’s you that I’m concerned about. You’ve turned into an automaton since he arrived.”

I didn’t conceal the hostility in my voice. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.
He had almost two thousand rushing yards and eighteen touchdowns
.” She mimicked my tone in an unflattering way.

“So what? I can’t be proud of him? I used to follow football and those numbers are impressive.”

My mother’s brown eyes were sad as she studied me. “Why does this happen to you? Why are you so easily dazzled?”

I stumbled backward as if her words had reached out and shoved me. “I’m not seventeen. It’s different…”

“But it feels the same. The scene downstairs was all too familiar to me. Every basket Hunter made, I heard about. Every championship game Coach Bridges led the team to, I heard about. When will I get to hear what you’ve accomplished?”

I closed my eyes. “I am accomplishing things, Mom, every single day, but they’re not the normal things you talk about in polite company. I felt nothing for so long—like I was empty inside and all I could hear around me was white noise. I’m learning to deal with my emotions and not let them kill me slowly from the inside out. I’m learning to make friends and go on dates without counting the seconds until the other shoe will drop. I’ve discovered I want to help people and be a social worker. I’m smart and compassionate enough that it will be the perfect fit for me.”

My mother’s eyes filled and her voice quavered. “I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusions. You sound stronger and I’m so proud of how you’ve found your own identity.”

“It has been something I struggled with and the reason I latched onto Faye and Hunter. But I’m not like that any longer. I’m supportive of Blake because that’s how he is with me. He’s interested in what I have to say and he’s just as impressed with me as I am with him.”

My self-confidence was shaky and Blake’s encouragement meant a lot. When I was worried about my midterms or uncertain about our relationship, he didn’t let me wallow. Isolation was how I dealt with things before, but it didn’t work. Hearing Blake tell me I could do anything I wanted and to stop hiding from the world had transformed me.

“I won’t hold up your date, but as long as you promise you’re being careful, I’ll trust you implicitly.”

“I promise.”