Page 37 of If You Could Only Imagine
Michael not being to articulate his emotions was a bad sign. It meant his veins were swirling with violent tendencies. I knew Harold would be dead right now if this were Shane we were talking about.
But then, Shane was our…center. Nothing could happen to her. Her sweet disposition was what kept Mason sane, Gabriel happy, Michael calm and me at peace.
“Trust me, Mike,” I said, trying to calm him the hell down. “I want to finish what I started with that bastard just as badly as I’m sure he wants action at coming after me again, but I’m not going to be fighting with him, upsetting Denise, when even kicking his ass won’t change his narrowminded ways.”
“How upset was she,” Gabriel asked.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “When she…uh, came into my office to talk, well…uh, we didn’t get a whole lot of talking done.”
Gabriel smirked, but Michael just narrowed his eyes at me. “So, are you guys cool then, or what?”
That was a good question.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure if I had a concrete answer for him. After she cleaned up in the restroom in my office, she had come out, and before she could say anything, I asked her if we could just hold off until later.
Not that I hadn’t wanted to talk about everything that was going down, I just didn’t trust myself to be able to have a rational, intelligent discussion about us. I was still fuming over the fight and high off the sex. Besides, it had been sheer luck we had managed to get away with fucking in my office without anyone opening the door. If Denise had remained in my office, we would have fucked a second time, for sure.
And then a third.
“I think with her working for Shane now, things might be a bit more…manageable,” I offered, lamely.
“Youthink?” Gabriel squawked.
“Fuck, Gabe, I don’t know,” I rushed out. “This entire situation is a goddamn disaster. I’ve had to defend my money, career, success and ethnicity to this woman, and now, I have to defend myself against my racist prick of a father. If she didn’t want to commit to me before, I can’t see how she’d want to now. I mean, why would she want to marry into a family with a racist patriarch? We’re everything she’s been avoiding all her life.”
Michael’s finger came up. “First, Mason is the Buchanan Patriarch,” he pointed out. “And, second, Dibtab seems more…tolerant than that.”
“Yeah, Aid,” Gabriel chimed in. “It doesn’t matter how much of a worthless fuck Dad is, she can’t ignore how you fought for her.” He shrugged a shoulder. “At the end of the day, that’s all any woman wants. She wants someone who will defend and protect her.”
Michael eyed me. “Safety, Aid,” he went on. “Just like I said earlier, it’s all about safety for the female species.”
I dropped my head back, and facing the ceiling, closed my eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quit to kick her out of my office. I’m just not used to this kind of chaos. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I’m the normal one damn it.
I was about to ask them if they wanted to go with me to drink my problems away when a knock on the door sounded. I had no idea who it could be other than Denise because the twins were already here and Mason, nor Shane, would knock. I jumped up and rushed to answer the door.
The sight that greeted me held my feet hostage where I stood.
“Mom?”
My mother stood there, dressed in a classy, beige overcoat, covering everything except the hem of her black slacks and tan heels. “Really, Aiden,” she replied, her voice velvety. “Is it really such a shock that I’d actually visit one of my sons?” She didn’t wait for a real answer. Instead, she just walked passed me, into my home, just as casual as can be.
I didn’t have any real issues with my mother, as of late. But we were all still very far from a happy, healthy family.
She stopped in front of Gabriel and Michael, who were now standing, no doubt as surprised as I was. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Gabriel. Michael,” she said, acknowledging her other children right before she turned back towards me. I had shut the door and was now standing before her. “I heard about what happened at BI today.”
“How?” Gabriel asked her.
She took a deep breath as she adjusted her ten-thousand-dollar purse. “Well, his face didn’t look like it did when he left the house this morning, Gabriel,” she retorted. “When I asked what happened, he told me.”
I could see Michael crossing his arms over his chest behind her. “And what did Pop have to say, exactly?”
Natalie Buchanan wasn’t ruffled often, but she, just like the rest of us, knew what Michael was capable of. “Relax, Michael,” she muttered, not bothering to look behind her. “As hard as it is to believe, he told me the truth. Mason verified as much when I called him.”
“That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, Mother,” I pressed.
She rolled her lips in, took a deep breath, and then she lifted her hand to caress my cheek. “Your father is a world class asshole, Aiden,” she said. “He always has been, and I was a world class asshole to let him raise you boys without my influence. I’ll always regret that whether or not you boys believe me.” Then she let out a sad chuckle and looked back towards the twins. “And I’ll never ask for you forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. Especially you, Michael.” Turning back towards me, she continued, “However, I do not agree with or condone Harold’s opinions or actions. I wanted to stop by and let you know that he’s moving to the Bay Home, so if you ever…if you ever want to bring Denise by, you can do so in confidence and comfort. I would love to meet her.”
