Chapter 6
Every Tuesday night Jamie and I meet my father for dinner at five thirty. On Saturdays, my father comes over at six while my mother works and watches Jamie. This is their interaction because until the divorce is final my mother will not let my sister go to his apartment. The girlfriend is there. My mother claims allowing new people into Jamie’s life during the upheaval of the divorce could be detrimental, especially if my father’s new relationship doesn’t last. My mother is looking out for her daughter, but I’m aware there’s a bit of spite laced into her demands.
Unfortunately, the girlfriend is sitting across from me at the moment. With her sleek dark hair and wearing a black blazer, she’s attractive in a slick modern way I find annoying. My mother has more of a cardigan and turtleneck mom persona. I’ve seen the girlfriend from a distance before, but never meet her until today, and though it’s not her fault, I’m fuming that my dad brought her. I’m not even sure what I just ordered. I just pointed at the menu.
“Can we go watch them make pasta,” Jamie asks me as she twirls the ponytail I put in her hair this morning for school. My sister thinks watching noodles coming out of a machine is one of the most exciting things in the world.
I smile sweetly across the table. “Could you take her to the lobby?” I ask Ms. Husband Stealing Girlfriend. “I need to talk to my dad for a minute.” Though I don’t really want her around my sister, the urge to talk to my dad outweighs my dislike of her.
“Sure.” She slides out of the booth and stands on high heels. “Come on, Jamie.” She holds out a hand that is ten years younger than my mother’s. While the girlfriend’s dressed in somber black my sister is girly cute today in a pink shirt and matching tennis shoes.
Mostly likely thinking of them bonding, my idiot father watches them go with a wistful look on his face before he loosens the tie around his neck. I consider him dating someone so much younger. My mother used to tell him he grew more handsome every year. While his hair is salt and pepper at the age of forty-seven, he’s thin and fit from running every morning.
As soon as my sister is out of hearing distance, I snap, “How could you?”
My father leans back against the booth. “Riley, it’s just dinner. I could bring a business associate. What would be the difference?”
“So you’re assuming I’m not going to tell mom?”
“Yes. I’m assuming you’re going to act like an adult. Sara is part of my life. Whether your mother wants it or not, she’s going to be part of Jamie’s and yours.”
Bitterness has me gripping the table between us. I’ve tried, somewhat successfully, to stay out of my parents bickering. My two cents won’t change anything. However, internally I’ve always been on my mother’s side. My father left us just days after the New Year and started dating the girlfriend in January. Obviously, that connection started long before he left the house. “They say it takes a year for people to come to terms with a divorce. Those people include the children,” I say, sounding like a pamphlet on the effects of divorce.
“We’re getting married, Riley.” He reaches for his drink. “Hopefully, the divorce will be final in February so we’re planning on March.”
My mouth falls open.
He sets his glass down with a soft thud after taking a long drink. “I’d like you and Jamie to get to know her before the wedding.”
Astonishment has me compressed into the vinyl of the booth. “Are you trying to destroy mom? After twenty one years of marriage, does she mean nothing to you?”
His jaw tightens. “Riley, I know this isn’t easy for anyone. But Sara and I are in love.”
I snap back up and lean across the table. “What does that mean? Because you’re in love, you can stomp over everyone else? Did you even love mom?”
“Your mother and I…” he sighs. “Things were never right after Maggie miscarried. She became severely depressed.” My teeth clench. Of course, she was depressed. She’d carried the baby for almost seven months. “After Jamie was born we thought things would mend, but they never came together. I know this seems sudden to you, but for the last ten years we were trying to make it work.”
“Are you telling me half my childhood was a lie?”
“No marriage is unflawed, Riley. Ours just slowly deteriorated over time.”
“For you,” I say stubbornly.
A muscle ticks in his cheek. “Perhaps your mother isn’t as pragmatic as I am.”
“Or maybe it has something to do with how you went about it,” I snap.
“Let’s not—”
“And maybe you shouldn’t be so selfish and wait at least a year after the divorce to marry your girlfriend.”
He sets his elbows on the table and leans forward. “What about Sara? Maybe she wants a family. Whether you like it or not she’s part of this too.”
My stomach rolls at the thought of my father having another family. Half-siblings? Something so ridiculous never occurred to me. Forty-seven -year-old men should not be starting second families. “You can’t be serious,” I hiss.
“I’m getting married, Riley, whether you like it or not.” I open my mouth but he cuts me off. “Your car’s in my name. I still pay the insurance and put money in your account for gas.”
“Are you threatening me financially?” I ask in a tone laced with repulsion. Yes, he pays for my insurance. Yes, I drive the old family sedan. But who watches Jamie four times a week? Who takes care of the house and yard? Who cooks dinner for his castoff family?
“You’re almost nineteen. Pretty much an adult.” He raises a gray eyebrow at me. “If you’re going to be disrespectful, why should I continue supporting you?”
Obscenities catch in my throat, but luckily the girlfriend and Jamie return and slide into the booth before I lose it on my father with a torrential storm of disrespect. When I notice the diamond on the girlfriend’s ring finger, I almost do lose it.
Our food comes. They talk. I eat. Or rather, push cannelloni around my plate. Jamie seems to like the girlfriend, which upsets me more.
On top of my father’s awful matrimonial news and asinine threats, I have band practice tonight, and this is the one night Chloe can’t babysit. I was going to ask my father to take Jamie to the movies or mall or something, but there is no way in hell I’m letting my sister go anywhere with the two people sitting across from me.
Once Jamie’s done eating, I use homework as an excuse for leaving early. My father looks skeptical, but he doesn’t argue. He gives my sister a hug. He doesn’t push the issue with me when I step back from his waiting arms. Jamie tells the girlfriend goodbye while I tug her away by the hand.
After a trip home for Jamie supplies, I make it to practice only a few minutes late. As soon as we get up the stairs, Justin asks while looking at my sister, “What’s going on?”
“My sitter fell through.”
He looks between us while his brow lowers. In deep discussion behind him, Romeo and Sam lean over a sheet of music.
“My mom works nights.”
Justin crosses his tattooed arms while his lips turn down. “Okay, but you really think a kid belongs up here?”
Jamie steps closer to me and I put an arm around her shoulder. “Well, I’m not about to leave her home alone.” His expression stays irritated. “She has her Nintendo DS, books, and homework. She’ll stay quiet and busy for the next couple of hours.”
“What about you? You going to be practicing or babysitting?”
My eyes narrow. If anyone was going to be an ass about this, I expected it to be Romeo. Boy was I wrong. “I can do both. But if it’s such big issue, maybe we should skip practice tonight.”
At that, Romeo comes over and gives Jamie a quick smile. “The kid will be fine, Justin. Quit acting like an ass—jerk. Riley’s already late so let’s get started. We only have two more practices before the weekend.” He turns his attention to me. “You look over the music?”
“Yeah,” I say, tapping my temple. “I got it.”
“What about the rule?” Justin asks loudly. “Your rule. No one’s allowed to watch us practice.”
Romeo’s brows lower. “That was made for the distracting girls you used to bring who were looking to get la—busy. Not for ten-year-olds.”
“She’s eight,” I say.
“Whatever,” Romeo says, staring down Justin.
Justin gives him an indignant look but goes over to his microphone. Before I can thank Romeo, he’s back talking with Sam. Jamie’s expression is worried as I try to get her settled in the chairs across from us. This is the first time I’ve wanted to give Justin a whack with my drumstick. Usually it’s Romeo. I’m crouched in front of her telling her everything is okay, but she keeps peeking at Justin. If she doesn’t get comfortable soon, I am going to leave.
“Hey, that looks cool,” Romeo says, sitting two chairs over from Jamie and pointing at the Nintendo DS. “What games have you got?”
Jamie blinks up at him. “SpongeBob and Barbie dress up.”
“Huh, SpongeBob sounds good. Barbie might be a bit girly for me.” He cocks his chin as if in thought. “Or would I like it?”
My sister giggles. “It’s probably too girly.”
Romeo nods while I watch him with a dumfounded expression. “You may be right, but could I check out SpongeBob during our break?”
She nods. “You’ll like it. All the boys like it.”
“Cool,” Romeo says with a grin then takes off.
Who would have thought I be thankful to Romeo twice in one night? Never me. I remind my sister to do her homework first and make sure she’s aware the music will be very loud—like when she listened to me practice my snare in my room all last year—before I move to the drum set.
In between songs, I keep an eye on Jamie. She mostly does her homework, but every now and then I catch her watching Romeo. Obviously, females of all ages are drawn to him.
At the break, I check her homework while Jamie shows Romeo how to work the DS. His playful banter has her giggling in overdrive. He’s even kept his usual hounding to a minimum, and yelled only when Sam and Justin cussed. His whole demeanor—one hundred percent different this evening—has me considering, for about two seconds, bringing Jamie to all our practices. If only Romeo was like this all the time.
Wait a minute. Scratch that.
If Romeo was like this all the time, I would be obsessed with him.
Enamored with our guitar player, Jamie spends the rest of our practice playing her DS and peeking at Romeo.
Done practicing, I’m bent over packing up Jamie stuff when Justin comes over and places a palm on my lower back. “Hey Riley.” I stand but he doesn’t remove his hand, only shifts to the side of me. “I want to tell you sorry for earlier. I’m not sure why I acted like a jerk. Maybe Romeo’s rubbing off on me,” he says with a smirk. “But it’s okay if you bring your sister.”
Holding her bag and sitting on the chair, Jamie watches us.
I’m not sure if he’s being genuine or just trying to maintain his leader persona. Even I’ve noticed how Justin likes to act like the front man, but it was obvious from the start Romeo runs the show. “Well, thanks. I won’t make it a habit, but I may need to bring her again.”
He nods. “You should come out with us sometime after practice.” He glances at Jamie. “Obviously not tonight, some other time though.”
I joined the band to play. Not to hang our or, from the obvious invitation in Justin’s green eyes, hook up with anybody. A band member hook up would definitely create hostility between all the egos in the room, and could possibly land me out of the band. Not that I’m interested. I always leave right after practice. In fact, Romeo’s usual attitude has me practically running out the door. Along with the fact that Chloe babysits for free.
I don’t want to cause friction so I say, “Yeah, some other time.”
He finally removes his hand from my lower back but doesn’t move away. Over his shoulder, Romeo and Sam stare at us. Sam looks angry. Romeo disgusted. Great. Just when I thought, he might lay off. Sam could be jealous. He does like to flirt. Not that I reciprocate it.
But who knows what dickhead’s problem is.