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“The Van Cleefs are one of the wealthiest families in the state. Valerie is a nice young girl, who shows great potential in society circles, and with her model-esque looks, she will be sure to produce good-looking babies for you, Edward.” She says this like we are discussing an arranged marriage business deal, not my love life.
“I mean, you can cancel it, because I have found someone,” I state, pulling off the Band-Aid.
My mother looks at me like she is trying to see in my soul. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The very same spot that Pinkie loves on me is also now my danger radar. I can see my mother about to combust.
“Who is she?” she asks with a swallow, trying to remain composed.
“No one you know,” I offer, not planning on telling her anything.
She scoffs. “Stop playing, Edward. I know everyone,” she says, rolling her eyes at me for dramatic effect.
“Her name is Katie. I met her a few weeks ago. It is new, and she is from out of town.” I adjust myself in my chair, already feeling like I have said too much.
“What does her family do?” my mother asks, eyeing me with suspicion. I balk because I actually don’t know. While I have been focused on keeping my own family identity under wraps, I also haven’t delved into Katie’s. Although I do have my suspicions they aren’t close.
“I don’t know.” Her father could be anything, and it would make no difference to me. I don’t need a woman from society. I also don’t need a woman with money. I have enough of that as it stands.
“You don’t know? What do you mean, you don’t know? She can’t be that important if you don’t know anything about her family.” Her voice rises, and I see her vein start to pop at her temple. I am amazed for a moment at why she hasn’t cosmetically fixed that, since the rest of her face is almost frozen solid. My shoulders feel stiff as frustration builds in my body.
“I don’t care what her parents do or what her family owns or what part of society she is from.” My mother’s face contorts. We are black and white, always have been. The words I say are the truth because I don’t care. I understand what it is like having parents who give you more pain than love. Hell, my mother wins the award for crazy. The fact that she can even sit here and ask me these questions at all without a hint of self-reflection just shows her lack of awareness, and it is pissing me off.
“Edward, you cannot be serious. You hardly know this girl. You have been brainwashed by your brothers, haven’t you?” she says, a small snarl coming to her lips. She is about to go crazy. I can feel it.
“Mom, I am not marrying anyone because of social status. I am planning to marry for love,” I grit out, and that lights the flame inside of her.
“Love?Love?What do you know aboutlove,Edward. Life is notmadeof love. It is notenhancedby love. You need status. You need financial growth. You need a woman who will stand by your side and smile for the fucking cameras, even when she doesn’t want to. You need to approach your marriage like a business arrangement. The woman you choose needs to be up to Rothschild standards. Being a Rothschild is more than just having the name, Edward. We are a strong, wealthy family. We have history, a name to uphold, and that is a lot of pressure for a woman who isn’t already from our world. She will only bring you down. Just like your brothers.”
She sounds like she is speaking from experience. I feel my cell vibrate and look at it quickly. I see Katie has sent me the kissing face, and I try to stop the smile, but I can’t.
“Edward!” My mother screams my name so loud, I jump in my seat. Fuck, she is really not happy. I look at her, the scowl already forming on my face. “For God’s sake, get your head out of that phone and show me some respect. You will go on that date with Valerie tonight, and you will do it with a smile. Do I make myself clear?” She says it like her word is final, speaking to me as though I am eight. A mere boy. Not the man I am. Her angry outbursts are in complete contrast to the sweet, flirty nature of Katie’s text messages. So much so, it is startling.
“No, Mom. I will not. So, you can call Valerie and tell her I can’t make it, or she will turn up to the restaurant and be eating alone. Either way, I am busy with mygirlfriend,” I say, liking the sound of that. That is what Katie is. My girlfriend.
“You will not—” she starts but stops suddenly mid-sentence as she takes a breath. Her face looks a little red, and I stare at her sharply.
“You alright, Mom?” I ask, sitting forward in my seat. She looks okay, although her expression is a little more pinched than normal. I start to become concerned when she doesn’t speak right away.
She looks at me, takes another breath, and scoffs again. “I am fine. But I can see that I am not getting through to you today. I will reschedule Valerie for next week,” she says, standing, offering a sudden end to this heated discussion.
“I won’t change my mind, Mom. I am seeing someone. Someone I really like. I won’t be dating Valerie, or any other woman you put in front of me.”
“We’ll see, Edward. We will see.” She doesn’t look back as she opens the door and walks out, and I wonder what the hell has gotten into her.
I slump in my office chair and think about our interaction. The whole ordeal left me feeling heavy and out of sorts. The secret I keep sits heavier in my chest, now more than before. I rarely listen to anything my mother says these days, but something she mentioned rings true. It is hard being a Rothschild, and when you are not from our world, there is a lot of pressure. While I don’t know Katie’s family or too much about her history, I already know she is not society. Me, and everything I bring with me, is going to be a lot for her.
We are going along so good together, fitting together so well, I don’t want to rock the boat yet. This is the first time I have felt real happiness with a woman, and I just want to feel it for a little longer. I will tell her… I just need more time with her. More time to connect, so that whatever we have can’t be severed by my mother, by my name, by anyone.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE - KATIE
“What about this one?” Eddie asks as we both lie in bed, snuggling, him pointing to another tattoo, wanting to know the meaning. We have been doing this every night since we got together. We work, he meets me at home, we either cook or we get food delivered, and we talk, have sex, cuddle, sleep, and repeat it all the next day. It has been a tonic for my soul because I don’t want to be outside, knowing Steve is still around, and Eddie doesn’t appear to want to go out either. This situation is perfect for both of us.
“I got that when I was seventeen,” I say, looking at the small butterfly on the inside of my bicep. I think briefly about that traumatic time in my life.
“Does it signify anything?” he asks, extremely curious about my artwork. He asks about each piece before kissing it and then moving to the next.
“A rebirth, I guess. A caterpillar has a second life coming out as a beautiful butterfly,” I tell him, knowing even back then, I was full of hope that there would be something more for me.
“A rebirth at seventeen is pretty heavy stuff,” he says as his lips touch the tattoo, lingering there a little longer than the rest. He is right. Most seventeen-year-olds were partying, hanging with friends, shopping, or getting their first boyfriend. I was couch surfing, trying to find food, keeping my head down in school, and wondering if there was a point to it all.
