“Now hang on a minute. We all know your panic attacks haven’t been a one-time thing,” Jack interjects harshly. “Maybe the job is just too much for you.”
Olivia’s eyes go round, and anger seeps out of her pores as her face turns bright red. I feel uncomfortable being here to witness all of this.
“The job isnottoo much for me! Youknowthis has been our dream for a long time, Dad. I’m doing things the way you wanted. I got my CPA license. I made it to the Big Four. This isn’t too much.”
I can’t tell whether she’s trying to convince her dad or herself at this point.
Determined to extricate myself from this private matter without making it awkward, I start grabbing some forks for the lava cakes. Just as I turn toward the dining room, Jack throws an arm out to stop me.
“I know, but things change.”
“You two are making way too big a deal out of this. Maybe I had a few other panic attacks before that, but they were minor. I haven’t had one since. It’s not worth giving up my future for.”
“Well of course you haven’t had more! You haven’t been back to your job since then.” Mandi is shaking now.
“I think it’s time for me to leave.”
“No, don’t go. We still haven’t had dessert.” Mandi’s eyes are pleading, but Olivia is already marching furiously toward the front door.
“Are you going to give me a ride, Golden Boy, or should I start walking?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Golden Boy?”
“Yes, Mr. Perfect.”
“We haven’t had dessert yet. I think we should stay, and you can all sort this out,” I offer, trying to keep the peace.
Her eyes shoot daggers at me, and I finally understand where the phrase comes from because I canfeelthe pain of her sharp gaze on me. I look to Mandi and Jack for some sort of support or guidance. This is their daughter. They should know what to do with her. I certainly don’t.
Mandi bites her lip but nods her head the slightest bit toward the door, indicating I should follow her. I nod and head that way but pause briefly. “What do I do?”
“I’m not sure what she needs these days.” Mandi sighs, looking defeated. “I just want my happy baby girl back. She used to be my best friend, but now she won’t open up to me. I want to help her so badly, but nothing Ido is working.”
I rub Mandi’s back gently, trying to ignore the squeezing feeling in my chest on her behalf. She just wants to love her daughter. I know it’s not my place. I shouldn’t get involved, but I can’t stand seeing Mandi like this. She deserves to have a daughter that reciprocates her mother’s love. Maybe I can help.
Mandi doesn’t meet my gaze as she turns to the counter and grabs the box of cakes I brought. “Make sure she tries one. She’s going to love them.”
I take them and trudge out the door to find Olivia leaning against my truck, fuming, but her attitude doesn’t deter me. I’m going to fix this.
ChapterSeven
Olivia
Rhett meetsme out at the truck, still determined to make peace. “You know your parents just want the best for you. You haven’t exactly let them help you at all. Maybe if you’d stop?—”
“I forgot you’re the expert onmyparents now. Please tell me exactly what I need to do to fix my relationship with myparents.”
“Fine. If that’s how it’s going to be…” He swings my door open for me. “Do you want a ride home or not?”
I leap into the passenger seat, buckling up and crossing my arms. I’m fully aware of the fact that I am acting like a five-year-old right now, but Rhett, with his high and mighty perfect near-son-to-my-parents act, pisses me off beyond reason.
He throws the truck in reverse, and we drive in silence the whole way home. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. I haven’t come to visit my parents in the entire two years they’ve lived in Roots, and I’ve insisted they don’t come visit for holidays because of work or being sick. Now I’m storming off like some brat after they fed me dinner and showed concern for me. I must look like an awful human being, but I’m keeping them away for a reason. The second I validate their concern, they’ll drop everything to take care of me. I can’t be responsible for one of them giving up their happiness for me again. I want better for them.
We pull into the driveway, and Rhett wordlessly pulls the key from the ignition. I slither out of the truck, trying to silently rush back to the cottage for some peace and quiet, but Rhett gently grabs me by the arm. His eyes are serious as he grumbles, “We should talk.”
I want to argue, to just scuttle off alone to the cottage where I can pretend this whole day hasn’t happened and figure out how to let my parents in without becoming a burden to them, but his sharp gaze convinces me to follow him to the front door.
Once we are inside, he gestures toward the couch. “Sit.”
