Sassy in Lingerie (Lingerie 8)

“Let’s not skip to marriage just yet,” I said. “I just want you to accept the fact that I’m dating him.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want to marry him?” She raised an eyebrow. “Because if this isn’t serious, then it’s not worth our heartache.”

“Yes, I do want to marry him.” I didn’t want to say the words out loud because it would make losing him more painful. “I want a family and a life together. There’s probably someone out there better suited for me, but I don’t want that person. I want him.”

She sighed quietly under her breath.

“I’m begging you.”

She looked away, as if she couldn’t handle my emotion.

“He said he would let me go if you didn’t approve of him. If that’s not a declaration of true love, then what is?”

“I’m not denying that he loves you. He wouldn’t put up with your father if he didn’t. He obviously doesn’t scare easily, and I respect him for that. He’s fighting for you, taking insults when he would normally kill the man who issued them. But you’re asking us to love him too…and I’m not sure if we can.”

“You said you would try,” I whispered. “You aren’t trying.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “You’re right. It’s hard to try when the only thing connecting us is something we don’t speak of. The name Bones hasn’t been said in our home for thirty years. Your father forbade anyone from saying that name. And now the door to our past has reopened, and it seems like we’ll never escape it.”

“Maybe you aren’t supposed to escape it. Maybe this is the closure everyone needs. What better way to end the blood war for good than to welcome him into our family?”

My mother didn’t give a response, her lips pressed together tightly.

“You told me Father wasn’t perfect. He was cold and cruel. You said he wasn’t easy to love and he refused to love you. It sounds like he wasn’t much better than Bones. He did criminal things for a living. He’s killed people too. Maybe I don’t understand the full story, but it sounds to me like our stories are extremely similar. But you loved Father, and I see how much he loves you every day. How is it any different?”

She didn’t answer, staring at me with a guarded gaze.

“How is it any different?” I repeated.

“It just is, Vanessa.”

Silence settled between us, the quiet full of discomfort. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her button wedding ring catching the light. “We will try to overcome this, Vanessa. We’ll try harder. Don’t expect this to happen overnight. It’ll take time.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “But anytime you’re in the same room together, all Father does is yell at him.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I’ll talk to him about that…again. He can’t see straight when it comes to you. He gets very emotional and aggressive. He’s so angry because he loves you so deeply, but he’s also trying to make this work because he loves you so deeply. He’s at war with himself, and he has no control over it.”

“Yeah…I can see that.”

She placed her hand on mine. “I want you to be happy. I really do.”

“I know, Mama…”

“Just be patient with us. It seems like Griffin is more than patient with us.”

“He’ll do anything for me. It wasn’t easy for him to let go of his hate. It took a long time. But he finally did it, so I know he understands it’ll take you a while to feel the same. I would just like it if we could be in the same room without…everything going to shit.”

“Me too,” she said. “Maybe we’ll get there eventually.”

“Yeah…maybe.”

Three

Bones

I left the restaurant and stepped out into the cool night air. My collared shirt was uncomfortable because it was stiff like cardboard. My slacks weren’t my favorite either; nothing compared to my jeans. I only put on this ridiculous outfit to make a decent impression on her parents.

Which didn’t happen.

Crow had crossed the parking lot, and now he was headed to a bar across the street. Of course, he wouldn’t leave his wife far behind, wanting to be easily accessible at all times. But he didn’t want to sit in there with me a moment longer.

Too bad I wasn’t better company.

I followed him and walked into the bar. It was quiet because not too many people were drinking on a Wednesday. He sat at the bar, an empty glass in front of him. Only a few amber drops were left behind, evidence of the scotch he just downed. He got the attention of the bartender and asked for another.

I took the seat beside him.

He must have detected me before I joined him because he didn’t react to my company.

“I’ll have the same.”

The bartender slid the drink toward me.