Page 93 of Dear Roomie
“Speak of the devil,” her father mutters as an older woman pushes her way through the crowd with a tray full of drinks.
I can see the resemblance to her granddaughter in her features. They have the same high cheekbones and the same arrow-straight bridge of their nose. Give it a few decades, and I could see James looking nearly identical.
“Jamie-girl, let me see you.” Grandma Anne shoves the cardboard drink carrier into my unsuspecting hands and pulls her in for a hug.
“Grandma, it’s only been a few months.”
“A few months too long, in my book,” her grandma chastises. “And you must be the new boyfriend I’ve not heard nearly enough about.”
“Morgan Hall, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Cute and polite. What is it you do here, Mr. Morgan Hall?”
“I’m in law school, ma’am.”
“A lawyer.” She quirks an eyebrow. “This one is a catch, Jamie.”
“Grandma…” A pink tinge grows on her cheeks, and she gives me an apologetic look.
“Fine, fine. Let’s go eat. I’m starving anyway.” She turns toward the building’s café without waiting to see if we are following. The action is so like James, I can’t help but smile.
“Morgan, be a dear and pass out those coffees, would you? I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I went with something extra sweet. Figured you’d need it after spending too much time with this one.” She nudges James with her elbow and laughs.
“Thank you, ma’am. Sweet is great.” I pass the drinks around and take a sip of the syrupy liquid, grimacing at the offensive taste.
We find a table, and Mr. Clarke grabs us food from one of the restaurants built into the complex. I am more than happy to fade into the background while James catches up with her family over dinner. It’s clear how much she loves them, and how much they love her in return. A twinge of homesickness stings in my chest. I can’t wait until our roles are reversed and she is the one meeting my parents for the first time. I’m sure my mom will love to spend hours showing her all the pictures of me as a kid and telling her every embarrassing story she can think of.
By the time we finish our meals, it’s time for her to join the rest of the graduating class in the stadium. She clings to my hand as we walk over to the student entrance with her family. She never lets go, not even as her grandma fusses over her, straightening her cap and gown and making sure there are no smudges of lipstick on her teeth.
“I’ll see you guys on the other side,” she says with a nervous smile. “Dad, be nice, and Morgan, don’t let him get to you.” She squeezes my hand one last time and disappears into the mass of shiny black gowns.
“Why don’t you go find us some seats, Mom? I’d like to have a private chat with the boy,” Mr. Clarke says as soon as his daughter is out of sight.
“Don’t go too hard on the boy. Jamie clearly likes this one.” She pats my cheek and walks off toward the stadium entrance, leaving me alone with the man I’m pretty sure wants to kill me. He claps a hand on my shoulder and pulls me in the opposite direction.
“Let’s take a walk.”
This is it. This is how I die. I gulp around the knot in my throat and let him lead me. We walk in silence for a few minutes, not stopping until the crowd is thinned down and no one is watching.
“So, Morgan, what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”
I stumble over my feet, bringing us to a standstill on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry…intentions…what?” I sputter.
“You heard me. Are you playing games with her heart, or are you in it for the long haul? Because if it’s the first, you better figure your shit out real quick.”
The accusation knocks all the nervous energy out of me. My spine straightens, and a rare burst of anger boils under my skin.
“Excuse my boldness, but I don’t think mine and James’s relationship is any of your business,” I tell him through clenched teeth, fighting to keep my tone neutral.
“Ophelia,” he emphasizes her given name, which makes my jaw clench even harder, “is my daughter. Therefore, it’s exactly my business.”
“With all due respect,James,” I emphasize in the exact same way, “is a grown woman who is capable of making her own judgments. She knows where we stand, and that’s all that matters.”
“She just got out of a serious relationship. Don’t you think it’s a little soon for her to be jumping into another?” He folds his arms across his chest and looks down on me like he’s already won the argument.
I won’t back down, though. Not on this. He might hate me, but I won’t let him bully me away from his daughter so he can control her life. I stand even taller and meet his cold glare head-on.
“Yes, and I told her as much, but I also realized I was wrong to try to be the one to tell her when she was or wasn’t ready. Ultimately, it’s up to her to decide, and for some miraculous reason, your beautiful, talented, hurricane of a daughter decided that she loved me and I was what she wanted.
