Page 117 of Waiting for Acceptance
“Oh. Well…never mind. You’re absolutely brilliant, Trouble. I’m sure you always have been.” He kisses my nose and I smile. “List all the state birds, right now.” I laugh at his demand and shake my head.
“No!” I giggle, pushing him back down to lay my head on his chest again.
I pull my phone out and take a photo of the tree from my point of view, full green branches with the tiniest bits of sunlight shining through the leaves, posting it to my story, tagging Fitz and our location before sliding it back into my pocket.
“You ready to head back to the house?” Fitz continues playing with my hair, and I’m sure if we stayed here five more minutes, I would fall asleep in the grass with him.
“Would you judge me if I said no?” I feel his chest jump with a laugh.
“Not at all, Trouble. If I’m being honest, I don’t want to go, either.” He kisses the top of my head. “However, I do want Gran and Pops to get to know you and spend as much time with you as possible before we head back into the city tomorrow.” I look up at him and frown.
“I didn’t know we were going back to the city.” He sighs and readjusts his head on the arm he’s been lying on.
“I have been hoping to find a way out of it, but seeing as how my work is directly related to my father, I don’t see me using work as an excuse.”
“Get out of what?”
“My mother’s birthday party.”
“Wow. You guys have birthdaysreallyclose together.” His expression is blank as he stares across the fields. “You know, I’ve only picked up on bits and pieces of what your relationship with your parents is like. Since I understand complicated parental relationships I never wanted to pry, but I can tell there’s tension there. What happened? I mean, I know a little bit about what happened with your dad, with him not letting you choose what to do in life and all, but what about your mom?”
“My mother just goes along with whatever my father says, always has. When he suggested I live here with Gran and Pops until I was ready to start learning the family business, I could tell she was upset to see me go, but she also seemed…excited? Which just fucking hurt, you know? What mother doesn’t want to raise her own child? I never really got to have a relationship with either of them, and I think I’ve resented them both for it ever since. When I came to New York last Christmas, she suggestedwe go shopping together, which was weird, but…I guess the little boy in me wanted so badly for the facade she was putting on to be real, that I allowed myself to lower one of my walls. Only to find out it was a plan made up by my father to convince me to settle down.”
“Wow.”
“I never understood why she wouldn’t fight for me to stay with them. Why she didn’t want me around, why she didn’t visit me more. Then one day, I eventually stopped caring. I realized I had the best people in the world raising me. They loved me and taught me all of the lessons in life worth learning. They taught me how to be a hard worker, how to be kind, and how to take care of not only myself, but others as well. I wouldn’t change the way I was raised, I just sometimes wish…” He trails off and I sit up to face him.
“Sometimes you just wish your parents were different.”
He scoffs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Look at us, two peas in a pod.”
I snort. “A trauma pod.”
He laughs out loud, making me smile. “Oh, my god. That’s a horrible way to put it.”
“It’s also very accurate. And when have I ever been one to sugarcoat things?”
“Literally never,” he answers a bit too quickly. I glare at him and he sits up, our noses brushing against each other when he leans forward. “And I love that about you the most. What do you say, Trouble, be my girlfriend? For real this time.” I roll my eyes and he gives me a warning look.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Youguess?” He grabs me around my waist and rolls us over to pin me to the ground. “Do I need to help you find a more convincing answer?”
“And how exactly would you do that?” I challenge him and he grins.
“I can think of a few ways I’ve made you scream the wordyesbefore.” I bite my lip, trying to hide my smile. “Shall I try them again?” he practically growls above me, and I simply can’t help myself. I shrug, my expression full of indifference.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You little brat.” His smile is devilish when he buries his face into my neck, proving me right when his methods work. I enthusiastically agree to be his girlfriend beneath the giant oak tree, before he takes us back to his grandparent’s house for a shower before dinner.
“Gran, no one makes homemade ice cream like you.” Fitz practically licked his bowl clean, after having his apple pie and homemade ice cream, and I honestly can’t blame him. Everything she made today was to die for. I wish I could stay here for a week or a month, or however long it would take for her to teach me everything she knows in the kitchen.
“He’s right, everything was delicious,” I agree. Gran waves a hand dismissively.
“Oh, please. You’re the one who made the pie, dear.” She smiles at me and Fitz grabs my hand, kissing the back of it.
“That’s right! The apple pie was perfect, Trouble. You did good.” I don’t understand why, but every time Fitz tells me I’ve done something well, my stomach and my vagina take turns fluttering.
