“He told me that he would blacklist me from every PR firm in DC, cut me off financially. All the usual manipulation and BS. Don’t worry, Remington. I’m safe, it was not a physical threat from my dad or anything like that. Although my brother got in my face on behalf of my dad, he backed off when I threatened his precious balls. And I’m doing fine. I have a great job that I love, and it has zero connections to them or their businesses. Also, I have not relied on my dadfinancially for anything since my sophomore year of college when all he paid for was my books. He thinks he has all kinds of control over me, but he doesn’t. Which he hates, which makes him lash out. Trust and believe that I have spent many hours, and much of my hard-earned money in therapy working on my ‘daddy issues,’” she says, using her cute little hands to make air quotes and rolling her eyes.
“Why the hell are you smirking at me like that?” she asks in a much higher voice than just previously.
Smiling fully I say, “You are so goddamn cute when you get all worked up and feisty. And it’s really,reallyhot when you stick up for yourself like that.”
“You don’t even know if I stuck up for myself,” she says indignantly. “You weren’t there.”
Oh now she is getting so worked up, and extra sassy. It makes me want to grab her face and kiss the shit out of those pouty lips, but I resist. “I can tell you stuck up for yourself just by your take-no-shit attitude right now, Lainey. Had younotgone through with it and set some boundaries, probably something that was really hard to do, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You would probably still be in DC.”
Lainey blinks at me like a little owl. Taking another big bite out of a stick of cheese bread, she chews slowly, obviously needing time to think of how she wanted to respond—how deep she was willing to let me in.
Fuck, baby, please let me all the way in.
Finally she relents. “You’re right.”
“I know,” I reply smugly, giving her a raised brow.
“Ugh.” Lightly smacking my forearm, she continues, “Boundariesarevery, very difficult for me, especially when it comes to him because all I ever wanted was to make him happy and gain his approval. However, nothing was ever good enough. No test score high enough, no effort was the best I could have given. I was a B student, but in my parents’ eyes itmight as well have been straight failing. Anything I did was bottom of the barrel according to him, even if I had killed myself for the results. I never once heard him say he was proud of me.” She is looking at me this time, as more of her trust spills out around us, pouring into the quiet air. The deep russet-gold-colored clouds fill up the sky as the sun dips low, about to tuck in for the night. One last spectacular burst of warm light for the day.
When Sutton and I decided what to do with our lives, the most important thing to my parents was for us to always work hard, do something we are passionate about, and makeourselvesproud. My parents have a great life and are happy. They love us and our family endlessly, however they are absolutely not living vicariously through us because they have always lived the life they have wanted. My mom said she doesn’t need to try and relive any kind of glory days. Every day she wakes up next to my dad and gets to have her family is her best day. Glory days are for people that don’t have anything good and purposeful in their current lives. High school and college, or whatever time people get stuck in, do nothing but hold them back from fully embracing the happiness of the life they are living in the here and now.
Lainey looks out at the sunset, and the pain from her words hits me in a sharp place that I can’t even really name. My parents were always so supportive, loving, and kind. Still are. Charles and Renee LeBlanc are the type of people that are easy to look up to, and most definitely told their children they were proud of them. Good grades were praised, sure, but overall effort was more valued. Also, when we made hard choices, went down a path that was unexpected but the right thing for us, when we wanted to take a chance they supported us and loved us through the ups and downs, still do. We have their pride and their support. It’s the kind that is expressed with their words often but carried with us in our bones. Iremember my dad telling us to be fierce, be kind, be true to ourselves. Most of all, he wanted us to, no matter what, know that we were enough. He would always say, “You are thebestpart of me. I am so proud to be along for the ride.” To not have that kind of support from a parent is unimaginable to me.
“Lainey, I am really sorry that you had to deal with that,” I say, hoping she can feel my honesty and concern. “What about your mom? Are you close with her?”
Lainey pinches the bridge of her nose, stress running over her creased brow. “That is a whole other conversation. A complicated one. She is good at hiding who she really is and letting the world think we had a picture-perfect DC family.” Her sigh carries a weight that must feel like a mountain. “It’s fine.” She tries to brush off my comments, but I won’t let her.
She is still looking out at the sky that is quickly turning inky, and a cool breeze is picking up. She shivers and pulls a blanket up farther on her lap. I tuck one of the stray hairs behind her ear, and she looks over at me, a sad smile on her lips. I can see that she is trying to bury her past, her pain, her thoughts. Hide in her usual place that she thinks she needs to when she is with other people to make them more comfortable. Well she needs to know, right here and now, I am not other people.I want to be her person.
“It’s far from fine, Lainey. No child should ever have to grow up like that. Wondering if they are enough? Begging for affection, and having to live off scraps?” She sucks in a sharp breath at my words, but I don’t stop. “Nothing about that is okay. A parent is supposed to have unconditional love for their children, and it sounds like your father, and even your mother, had nothingbutconditions. That is not love.” I rub my thumb along her cheek and down to her jaw, a habit I apparently can’t quit when she is close to me. Her striking blue eyes study my face as she absorbs my words.
“Thank you.” A soft whisper carries her words to me.
“For what?” I ask.
“Seeing me. Telling me things that nobody else has. Talking to a therapist is not the same thing. They are trained, and paid, and have helped to a certain extent. It was instrumental for me in learning how to handle conversations and dealing with my father and mother, but there was still a lot that has not healed. A lot that I still have to work through. But you don’t even really know me, and yet I feel like you might be the first person in my life that hastruly seen me. I try to hide my feelings and be fine for everyone else, and they usually allow me to get away with it. But ...” Lainey sighs deeply.
“But?”
“You are different. This feels different.” Her eyes look up at me, and I swear she is burning herself into my very soul.
“Yeah, Lainey, this is different.” I tug her close to me and lean back against my truck. We watch as the stars start to pop into the dark sky, and she relaxes in my hold.
Yeah, this is definitely different, and I really hope I don’t fuck it up, because I will never get enough of Lainey Quinn, or proving to her thatshe is enoughexactly as she is.
10
Lainey
He didn’t kiss me good night. We had a perfect date. I could not believe how thoughtful and planned out everything was. I had zero intention of telling him most of the things I did, especially about my parents, but there is something about Remington that makes me want to tell him everything. That terrifies me. If I give him so much of myself, my fears, my past, my dreams, all of it, any of it—that gives him so much power to break me. More than any other man, any other person has had the ability to in the past.
After the heavier conversation, we laid in the bed of his truck for a long while talking about everything and nothing. Lighter topics that helped us get to know each other better. I learned that he hates blueberries but loves apples. His favorite color is blue. He wants to have a dog someday, but his schedule at the fire station doesn’t really allow for that right now. His parents have been married for almost forty years, and he has a deep respect for their relationship. I had a pang in my chest listening to him talk about them, and I desperately want to meet them. They must be special to have that kind of enduring relationship and admiration from their son.
Once I started to shiver, even under the blankets with Remington’s body heat and his warm hands caressing my back and shoulders, we packed up and headed out. He held my hand all the way back to my apartment, walked me up, and I had that riot of wild, uncontrollable butterflies in my stomach the whole time as I unlocked my door. He cupped my cheek sweetly and looked into my eyes, his darkening as he licked his lower lip. I thoughtthis is it, this is happening!He told me he had a great time and asked if he could see me again, and all I could do was grin like a fool up at his handsome face, nodding. Remington smiled back and said, “Great.” He ran his finger across my lower lips, making my panties instantly damp ... and then he kissed my cheek. “I will talk to you tomorrow, beautiful. Go in there and lock the door.”
I looked up at him, speechless. Stumbling back into my apartment, I shut and locked the door. I was too stunned to do anything other than follow his simple directions.
What the hell! What in the actual fuck had happened? I thought we were on the same page. He for sure looked like hewantedto kiss me. Our bodies were screaming to each other with every single touch all night long. Or was it just my body? Maybe this was one-sided. Maybe all the things I told him on our date finally sank in, and he was starting to see that I was a lot. A lot of baggage. A lot of emotional damage. A lot of family drama to deal with. That must be it. Remington is too good of a man, from too solid of a family for someone so broken and trampled on like me.
