Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(65)

My daddy sat back, seeming affronted. I couldn’t tell if his reaction was genuine or fake. “No, Rome, it was meant to be an olive branch.”

Olive branch? I felt like overturning the desk and screaming, Olive branch? You’ve belittled me all of my life, beaten me. Momma ignored me, never truly accepted me. Why now? Why change now when all you’ve done for the last few months is hound me to marry Shelly? But I didn’t. I just stared at him, completely shocked, unable to move.

That was until he said, “Your momma told me about your girlfriend, the British girl you’ve been seeing.” And the overwhelming need to protect Molly took root, my muscles remembering how to function.

Abruptly leaning forward, I warned, “You leave her the hell out of anything going on between us. She doesn’t need to be involved in our shit.”

Graying brown eyebrows rose, and he put his hands up in surrender. “Relax, it’s not want you think.”

“What’s not?” I hissed, suspicion creeping its way into my brain.

“Me and your momma have been talking, and we want to meet her, see what all the fuss is about. Try to be more… accommodating to you.”

I was certain I’d entered the f*cking Twilight Zone. My folks wanted to meet Mol… For me?

“Bullshit,” I answered in response, convinced this was just a really elaborate scam.

“It’s not—”

“Why would momma want to meet her? She told me she’d ruin us, destroy Mol. Why now, why show an interest now?” I interrupted.

Clearing his throat, my daddy agreed. “I admit, your momma took some convincing, but I want to meet her. Bring her to the house tomorrow for dinner.”

Stony resolve set in my stomach. “Hell no.”

Daddy’s facial muscles began to twitch. I knew he was about blow. I sat there waiting… but his anger never came. He was massively f*cking with my mind.

“Look, Rome, I understand why you don’t want to dine here with us. I’m beginning to see we’ve not done right by you. And I get why bringing your lady friend may be causing you some turmoil, but I’m reaching out… You’re my only son, my only child.”

“I… I…” I stuttered, not knowing what to say.

Daddy caught my confusion and continued. “I’ve been too caught up in business, in making Prince Oil the best it can be, but in doing that I’ve neglected you. I haven’t taken the time to get to know you, to really understand who you are. I want that to change, starting with a chance to meet your girlfriend. Your first official girlfriend, if I’m not mistaken?” He waited for my answer, so I gave a curt nod.

An unfamiliar warmth smothered my chest and I didn’t know how to deal. Conflicted emotions duelled in my mind. I’d wanted for so long for my daddy to want me. He called me his son… with affection. Half of me could only think about how amazing that felt, but the other half screamed at me not to believe him. Granted he’d never tried this tactic before—being normal, fatherly—but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d been lured into the fire by their promises, only to be burned when I took a chance and leapt into the furnace.

Sighing loudly, my daddy said, “Go home, ask your girl, and let me know as soon as possible, but don’t make me wait too long. If you want to build bridges, you need to agree to this as a first step. You need to meet me halfway, but I won’t wait forever.”

“Momma will treat her badly. I won’t have that,” I remarked, my voice slightly calmer now, my mind actually considering what he’d offered.

“I’ll have words. She won’t say a thing,” he assured. I stayed silent, unable to look anywhere but, unseeing, at my hands on my lap.

“Rome. I know you don’t have a close relationship with your momma. She’s never been able to get over what I did. But you’re mine, blood of my blood, and I got a lot of penance to serve for the way I’ve done you wrong.” Sitting back in his chair, he concluded. “I’m a physical and intolerant man, and all this marriage talk of late has pushed me to the brink. Let’s start afresh… That is if you want to be part of our lives.”

Abruptly standing from my seat, unaware of how the f*ck to digest all this crap coming my way, I said, “I’ll speak to Mol and let you know.”

I didn’t wait for his reply, but halfway to the door, I looked back and asked, “What about Shel and Mr. Blair? What you going to say to them?”

A smile spread on his lips, one that I couldn’t read. Doubt flooded my mind once more. “I’ll handle them. Don’t worry,” he dismissed, before saying, “Again, don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Without another word, I walked to the front entrance, catching sight of my momma in the parlor, her usual drink in hand, staring out the large windows… and all before two in the afternoon. I didn’t even bother to stop and say hello. My daddy may have been trying to save what scraps were left of our relationship, but there was no love lost on Momma’s part.

I drove furiously down the freeway, trying to decipher whether or not this was a trick. I never wanted Molly tied up in the constant war between my folks and me, but what if this was genuine? All I’d wanted was for my folks to want me, and if this was my only chance, should I take it? It was probably all a load of crap, wasn’t it? A convincing—and disturbing—ruse for some other plan… Argh, FUCK! I just didn’t know! Didn’t know if I should risk it.