Keeping Her Love (16 page)

“Reverse psychology is what it sounds like to me. Also, why would you want to go back to a place that you knew would trap you inside with the thing that scares you the most?”

“What scares me the most is losing Tula.”

She put on a sympathetic expression and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, darling. My sweet boy. You’re nothing like your father, simply a treasure. I don’t know whether to tell you to kick the crap out of your girlfriend’s brother or to talk it over calmly with him. He sounds like an immature young fellow. Whatever you do, I think that it needs to happen quickly and decisively. The house could use a bit of male energy since you left four years ago. You know that you could always stay here with Tula, right? I fill this place with my hobbies, like the exercise space and sewing room, but that guest room is always a space you can take. If you love her, perhaps it is best for you both to move into a spare room. I could talk to her parents and give them my reassurance that nothing bad will come to her.”

“I don’t know,” he stated, taking another swig of whiskey. “Her parents are nice, but strange. Her mom is kind of a stick in the mud, despite being pretty sweet otherwise. One of those religious Baptist types.”

“Well, it’s your life. I can’t force you to move in with me, however much I would enjoy it. Oh, hello, Hemingway!”

Up on the table jumped a large Norwegian forest cat. A gentle expression played on his face as he paused to observe both Rhett and his mother. Rhett pet the cat’s head, and Hemingway in turn motioned to dip under Rhett’s hand once again for more pets.

“I don’t want to create bad blood with her family. Coming here might be the equivalent of running off and eloping in their eyes. Especially after they told me specifically
not
to leave with her.”

“Oh, that’s right. You both tried running off and they caught on to that. Hmm. Well, I’ve made my offer. From my approximation, it seems like something awful bad is about to hit the fan. I’m worried that in trying to please everyone and not rock the boat, you’re going to make yourself miserable. Is this how you want to spend the rest of your life, trying to please these people? Because you know what they say—when you marry someone, you’re not just marrying one person. You’re marrying the entire family, too.”

I guess Tula is lucky,
Rhett thought.
My mom’s a nice lady to gain as a mother-in-law. She’s there when I need her, is up-front when she has to be, and lets me have my space. My father… Well, we won’t have to worry about him. He’s always been more concerned with himself than anyone else in the world.
 

“So what should I do?” Rhett asked. “A lesser man would already be at Tula’s place to ring Max’s neck for what I’m almost certain he did to the engine of my car. I suspect that he also caused damage to the hood that I had originally assumed some neighborhood kids did.”

“I can’t only tell you what I would do,” said Rhett’s mother, emptying her glass. “I’d go right up to Max and tell him it’s time to have a talk.”

This is sounding familiar to what Mrs. Florian had recommended earlier today.

She continued: “I’d invite him out to dinner, keep the mood light, then BAM, hit him with what I’ve been suspecting of him. I told you that you often try too hard to not rock the boat, but in this instance, tread carefully, son. He sounds like he knows exactly what he’s been up to. You know, he seems like one of those people with the emotional fortitude of a fourteen-year-old, but with the mental fortitude of a person much older. You need to speak down to his level, but don’t come off as condescending.”

He crossed his arms. Hemingway seemed a little disappointed that Rhett had ceased with the pets, so he nestled down at the corner of the table to watch them converse. His fluffy tail rolled back and forth as it hung over.

“Do you think that I should tell Tula to run off with me if the family disapproves of me?”

His mother thought on it, brushing a piece of raven-black hair behind her ear. “If you love her, of course. But don’t pull her into something that could damage her relationship with her parents forever. You need to be completely certain that she can handle what you’re asking of her, and that you both aren’t going to break up a year or two from now. I know you’re getting married, but stuff like that happens.”

“Right. No, I know that I want to be with Tula forever. I mean, her family bothers her, too. But she doesn’t want to be a pariah because of this.”

“You both need to have a strong conversation about your futures. First, with Max. If it seems like Max isn’t going to fess up to what he did and knock it off, then I think it’s time to talk to Tula again about moving out. If need be, just come home here right away. Tula’s parents would be upset, but there isn’t much to be done about it. I’m sure they wouldn’t be mad enough to miss out on the wedding, though it’s possible. But even then, they most certainly wouldn’t be able to resist getting over their anger if it meant missing out meeting a couple grandchildren.”

“Whoa, whoa, time out!” Rhett said, making hand motions. “Who said anything about grandchildren? We have the wedding to pay for, Tula is trying to get her business started…”

“Jeez, sorry! I didn’t know it was a touchy subject. I’m just saying, their anger might be a passing storm. I’m sure they’d be mature enough to see that you’ve been put in a bad position by their son. And if they can’t see that, they’ll see what they’re missing out on if you both
do
decide to have kids. Honestly, parents like this aren’t all that uncommon. Your mom is one of the unusual ones. I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t trash my place or endanger me in some way. They can try and take Tula back to their home—I’ll have the shotgun ready.”

He let out a little laugh and clapped his mother on the back. “I hope that’s not necessary, but thanks for the sentiments, Mom.”

“It’s not a problem,” his mother responded, placing a warm kiss on his cheek before heading to the sink to deposit her glass. “Your bedroom should be all set for you. I’m going to call it a night, son. See you tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around. Goodnight.”

Tula’s mother traveled upstairs to her room. Rhett stood in the quiet of the kitchen, an old yellow Tiffany light the only thing illuminating the space. He was tempted to pour himself another whiskey, but decided against it, coming to the conclusion that there was no point in it. He pulled up his phone, staring at the text messages he shared with Tula. She was almost certainly asleep, but he decided to send her something to brighten her morning:
 

I love you. Always will.

Putting the phone back in his pocket, he headed upstairs to his bedroom. Sleep came quickly enough for him, though he feared what the next day would hold.

Chapter 8

Rhett woke up the next day doing his best to throw a positive spin on everything. If he ever had a negative thought about something, even about the kind of soap his mother kept in the guest bathroom, he simply stopped himself and re-framed it.
 

I can’t blow it later today,
he thought.
I can’t become angry. I can’t disappoint Tula.
 

Before he had even woken up, Tula had responded to the text:

I love you, too. I know we’re going to make it thru this. See you this evening?

Rhett responded with the time he would show up to the house, giving himself a buffer to take time to inspect his ailing car. He knew without a doubt that the engine would need to be replaced, and it was no small matter, but if any man was up to the task, it was him. His friends at the garage would hook him up with a cheap engine, and potentially even help him make the major repair.
 

He had some breakfast with his mother, which consisted of toast and coffee, with a side of sass. She seemed to be most spirited in the morning for some reason, and Rhett always looked forward to whatever funny thing came flying out of her mouth. He didn’t know how his mother didn’t have a boyfriend by now, because it certainly wasn’t due to looks. She had a very sexy librarian look going, with her silken black hair wound up in a French twist, a tight black pencil skirt hugging her hips, and an airy blouse that exposed a peek of cleavage. Though his mother’s attractiveness didn’t bother Rhett in his older age, when he was in high school it was a sort of drudgery to watch his friends drool at the sight of her. He had to get in more than a few fights when passing schoolmates made big talk about banging his mother.

“So you’re going to their place?” She asked him, sipping her coffee.

“Yeah. Wish me luck.”

“I’m a strict atheist, darling, but in this instance I think a little bit of praying wouldn’t be out of order for you. I really do hope the best for you. ”

They both finished their meal and left at about the same time. Rhett found himself driving a lot more slowly than he usually did, as if he were trying to avoid his fate. When he did get to the garage, he got an earful from everyone about the broken car, along with bubbling questions on what happened and what was wrong with it. When he filled everyone in on the story, including his suspicions about his soon-to-be brother-in-law’s involvement, he felt like he was surrounded by a bunch of high school gossips. Instead of conversation about repairs, there were threats left and right on the life of this ‘punk kid’ who did this to a ‘beauty of a car.’

Rhett had to talk them down from assaulting Max with pitchforks until the boss yelled from his office for everyone to get back to work. Rhett grinned as he watched them stare down at the floor forlornly as they slowly scattered away. The day passed much more slowly than is usually did. Rhett had a lot on his mind—Max, Tula, the repairs on his car, how much everything was going to cost him, paying attention to actually doing his job…

When he was finally done with his shift, he felt like someone who had to make a phone call to a bill collection agency by the end of the day. His shoulders were tight, his mouth dry, and his feet felt like two cinder blocks.

It’s gotta happen sometime,
he thought, turning the ignition on the Honda.
Might as well get it over with.

When he got to the driveway of Tula’s place, everything seemed about as ordinary as it usually was. Tula’s car was in the drive, and Rhett assumed that Mr. and Mrs. Florians’ were soon to follow. He parked on the street right in front of the house, walked to the front door, and took a deep breath. The interior was quiet as he entered, and as if he wanted to preserve the tranquility, he shut the door slowly and carefully behind him. Heading down the hall to Tula’s room, he knocked on her door with the touch of an angel.

“Yes?” He heard her inquire from inside.

“It’s me,” he responded. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Come in.”

He immediately felt bad about making his entrance. Tula was wound up in the covers of her bed, the light in the room dimmed very low.

“Oh, I can come back later,” Rhett whispered, taking a step backwards.

“No, no—it’s all right. I was just lying here,” she said, sitting up against the headboard.

Rhett made his approach, realizing that Tula may have been lying down for reasons that had nothing to do with drowsiness. Taking a controller on her bedside table, Tula turned up the brightness in the room.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, placing a hand on her cheek.
 

“I’m okay,” she responded, forcing a smile. She had the look of someone who hadn’t slept well in a few years. Her hair was flung here and there, and her skin was ever-so-pale.

He smiled back, kissing her on the cheek. “Do you still hate me?”

“I never hated you. I just didn’t appreciate the comments.”

“I see. It’s hard for me to even remember exactly what was said. Especially after what happened with the car.”

She licked her lips and looked down at the sheets. “You were with your mother? How is she?”

“Same old, same old. She told me to say she missed you.”

“That was nice of her; the feeling is mutual. Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah. Well, to start, I want you to know that I love you very much. I would never want to hurt you, and I ultimately want what’s best for the both of us. If I act rude, I really don’t mean it.”

She gazed at him as if expecting more words to come out of his mouth.
 

“Anyway, you have to know by now why I’ve been pretty irritable. The thing with your brother, and then your parents getting on your case… Yeah, you already heard me talk about it yesterday, right? Well, I have to let it out now: I don’t think that we can stay here anymore.”

“I had the feeling that you might say that. I heard what happened yesterday.”

“In Max’s room?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he tell you?”

“Him and my mother, yeah. He said that he knows for sure it wasn’t Mom who broke in, even though she claimed fault.”

Something dark pulled at his stomach. “How could he know that it was actually me? Did he find evidence or something? The only reason your mom and I wanted to cover it up was to keep a kind of peace in the house.”

“He didn’t want to tell us how he knew, only that he did. Mom didn’t exactly refute it. She didn’t say much of anything, only telling Max to forget about the whole thing.”

They looked at each other for a moment and then broke the eye contact, thinking it over.

“Why were you looking through his room?” She asked, placing her hand on his.

“You know why. Because I suspect that he’s been up to something. He had a trap set up for me in there, Tula. He knew that I was gonna go poking around.”

She waved her hand. “He always been setting up booby traps. Ever since he was a little kid, he was fascinated with the idea of elaborate ways of capturing stuff. You know that game, Mouse Trap? He was obsessed with it when we were little. He’d set it up and take it apart, trying to mimic it in real life with other things. The trap he set could have been hatched for anyone sneaking around in his room.”

“Then why did he specifically use spiders? You and I both know I’m frightened of them, but he wouldn’t know. Tula, has he been spying on us?”