Naked Truth (15 page)

“Don’t listen to a thing she says,” I tell Jordan.  “Seriously, she has had a terrible week. Her wedding got called off and her fiancé took off.  She’s been a real witch to us all week.  I love that you went out of your way to bring us personalized gifts.”  I lift up onto my tippy toes and give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“What’s all the shouting about?” my father hollers as he walks into the room.  He had to work late tonight and is just getting in.

“That was just Rose being Rose, Daddy,” Daisy tells him then rolls her eyes.

“Come meet my boyfriend, Jordan,” I tell him and wave him over.

As my father approaches, I see Jordan’s eyes widen. It only happens for a split second, but long enough for me to notice.  I wonder if he is intimidated by my father.  I don’t know why he would be, Jordan is much larger than he is, but I guess meeting your girl’s dad can be nerve racking.

“I brought this for you, Sir.  Violet once mentioned that you enjoy a good whisky after dinner. I hope I bought the right kind.”  He extends his hand, holding the bottle of whisky out for my father to take.

But he doesn’t. My father just stands there, his eyes squinting at Jordan.  Appraising him, I can only assume.  A silence hangs in the air, as my mother, baby sister, and I look between the two men.

“Daddy?”  I try to get his attention.

That must have broken his zone because he apologizes.  “Sorry, sorry.”  He shakes his head a few times.  “Thank you.  That was mighty thoughtful of you.  Maybe we can share a glass later.”

Jordan blinks a few times, stuck in his own mini trance.  “I’d like that,” he finally answers.

“Did I miss something?”  I ask. Something weird is going on.

“No, darling,” my father answers me.  “Sorry, my head was still stuck at work.  I’m here now.”

“Everything is peachy keen, jelly bean,” Jordan reassures me. 

“Really,
Grease,
again?  Don’t you have any new material?” I chide.

He laughs.  “I’ll stump you one of these days.”  He winks.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I tease.

He smiles then grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine.

“Are you sure your sister’s okay?” he asks while looking down the hall where Rose ran off to.

“She’ll be fine,” my mother reassures him.

“Daisy, go get your sister.  It’s time for dinner.”  My father orders and the rest of us head into the dining room.

As we head toward the dining room, I tug on Violet’s hand to stop her.  Once we are alone, I bend down and kiss her – for real.

I hum in pleasure.  “I’ve been dying to do that for days.”

“I’ve been dying for a lot more than that,” she teases and I groan.

“That’s not a very nice thing so say just before we have dinner with your parents.  You know I can’t do anything about that right now.”

“Wanna see my room?” she asks, but I know she is just egging me on.

“Violet,” I warn, “Don’t write checks your ass isn’t willing to cash.”

She reaches up and pulls down on my neck so I am close enough for her to whisper in my ear.

“My ass is willing to do many things,” she rasps into my ear then walks away swaying her hips exaggeratingly, knowing what it does to me.

“You’re killing me woman,” I growl out just before she reaches the table, and I see, rather than hear, her back and shoulders shaking in laughter.  Payback’s a bitch, and I
will
get her back for that.

I take the only empty seat at the table, which happens to be next to Violet.  No surprise there.  Her parents are sitting on either head of the table with her mother closer to me - thank god - and her sisters across from us.  Rose is directly across from me with a sour puss frozen on her face.  Fuck my life.  As I scoot my chair in, I look up at her and offer a peace smile.  She just snarls her lips, so I put my hands up in surrender.

“Get a grip, Rose.” Violet comes to my rescue, but Rose just shoots her the bird.

“Rosita Bush Carmichael, that’s enough!” her father orders and even I straighten my back at his words.

“Sorry, dad,” she apologizes, but anyone in an ear’s shot knows that she doesn’t mean it.  The tension at the table is palpable.

After a quick prayer over the food, we all start to dig in.  Platters are being passed around and the different smells from each dish has my stomach growling. Man, I love a home cooked meal.  It just reminds me that I have to visit my parents more often.

“Everything smells delicious, Mirabel,” I compliment her mother, remembering to use her first name.  I think that pleases her, as well as Violet, because I get warm smiles from them both.  That puts me a little more at ease. 

“Thank you, Jordan.  So, are you from around here?” Mirabel asks.

“My family is, but I live in South Miami,” I tell her.  She doesn’t need to know any more than I have divulged to Violet.

I look around for some potatoes, only to find that they are in front of Rose.  Shit.  

“Can I please trouble you for a scoop of potatoes, Rose?” I ask as nicely as possible.  She scares me.

But she doesn’t answer.  Rose just squints her eyes at me, like she is deciding whether I am worthy of the potatoes, and to be honest, it feels creepy.

“I’ll get them for you,” Mirabel says then reaches for my plate.  “Clearly, Rose doesn’t remember any of the manners that I’ve spent so many years teaching her,” she says, sounding annoyed with her middle daughter’s behavior.

I hear a “pfft” from across the table, and when I look, Rose has her arms crossed across her chest.  Her eyes shooting daggers at me.

“Thank you, Mirabel.  And thank you again for having me over.” I acknowledge her gracious invitation.

“I know you from somewhere,” Rose blurts out.  Her stare becomes deeper, like her mind is working overtime to figure out where she knows me from.  I don’t have a good feeling about this.

“How could you possible know him, Rose?  Violet has never brought him by,” Daisy chimes in.

“No, I know that I know him,” she says again. This time it’s almost accusatory, and the hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention.

“Maybe you’ve seen him at Violet’s bank,” her father interjects. The fact he is coming to my rescue is even more worrisome.

“No, I never visit that stuffy-ass place,” Rose spits out.

“Language,” both parents caution.

“Maybe I just have a familiar face.”  I shrug both shoulders. 

“Mirabel, Violet tells me that you’re a teacher. Do you enjoy it?”  I try changing the subject.

“Wait! No way!”  Rose shouts, but nobody pays her any mind.  Her antics have exasperated us all.

She smiles proudly.  “It is very rewarding work.  I love seeing the success a student can achieve when they are willing to put in the work.”

“You’re shittin’ me!”  Rose interrupts again.  This time Daisy steps in and saves me.

“You are so rude.  If you don’t like our company, why don’t you go back to your room and go sulk by yourself?”

A shit-eating grin appears on Rose’s face, and all I can do is brace myself.  Within seconds, and a handful of words, life as I’ve loved it, turns into one big pile of horse shit.

“I knew I’ve seen you before.  It took a few minutes, but I’ve got it,” she announces smugly.

“Rose, that’s enough,” her father warns, and I am so thankful.  But there’s no way he can stop this avalanche.

Rose licks her lips, reveling in the fact that she is about to devastate her sister.  I look her in the eyes, trying to silently plead with Rose not to say something.  But I know it’s no use.  Misery loves company, and she’s only looking out for herself.

I grab Violet’s hand under the table and squeeze it hard, trying to convey my feelings.  She looks at me questioningly.

I smile sadly. “I’m so sorry, Cupcake.”

“I don’t understand,” she says, shaking her head.

“Your boyfriend is a stripper at Ragin’ Richards, big sis.  Guess you’re not as smart as you think you are,” she announces self-righteously.  Bitch.  No wonder her fiancé up and left.

Violets just gasps, the hand I’m not gripping on to for dear life, flies to her heart.

“What? He is not,” Daisy tries.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mirabel castigates her daughter.  “What have I done to raise such a cruel girl?” she asks, blaming herself.  The pain I brought to this family is unfathomable.  I wish a huge sinkhole would form under my chair and suck me in.

“Rosita, leave this table immediately!” her father booms, and all five sets of eyes widen.

Rose gets up with her plate and stomps all the way from the dining room table and into the kitchen, but I can’t take my eyes off of Violet.  My poor beautiful flower has just wilted, and it is completely my fault.  I’m such an asshole.

“Jordan?” she asks, her voice starting to quake. Her eyes are so sad that my heart completely breaks for her.

“Ask me anything,” I say for the second time in our relationship. And just as before, I promise to be completely honest

“You…you’re…you’re a stri…stripper?”  she can barely say the words out loud.

I turn to face her.  “Yes. Kinda. No.  It’s not what you think,” I plead for a chance to explain.

She steels herself.  “You know what? I don’t even give a crap what you do.  Just tell me, have you or have you not been lying to me?”

I bow my head and start rubbing the back of my neck, unable to look her in the eyes.

“Well, I guess I got my answer,” Violet whispers, tears forming in her eyes.

Violet unceremoniously scoots her chair back, almost toppling it over.  She throws her napkin on her chair then rips her hand out from mine just before running toward the stairs.  I’m assuming that’s where her bedroom is.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Mirabel says then squeezes my shoulders as she passes.

“I’m coming too,” Daisy declares.  She stares at me for a second before she starts leaving the table. 

“I’m sorry, sweet girl.  It’s not what it seems.”  I try to apologize to her, too.  I’d hate for her to have negative thoughts about me; I need her in my corner.  She nods in what I hope is understanding then follows her mother up the stairs.

“Maybe I should go talk to her,” I utter to her father, the only person left at the table with me.  I push out my chair to stand but as I try to pass him, he stops me with his hand on my forearm.

I glance down at him still sitting at the head of the table.  “Let her cool off.  Right now, she needs her mother. You’re only gonna anger her more.  If I know anything, I know these Carmichael women.  They sure are stubborn, but they are rational.  Once her emotions are under control, you’ll have a better chance at explaining yourself.”

With a defeated sigh, I sit back down, now occupying the seat where my Violet was.

“Thank you, Sir.  I’m sorry about ruining your dinner.”

He just stares at me.

“Did you lie to her, son?” he asks me.

“No, Sir.  I never told her I was a stripper, but I never told her I wasn’t.  More of a lie of omission, Sir.”

He steeples his hands under his chin then nods.

“You love her, son?”

“More than anything,” I tell him, shocking myself.  I let out a deep breath. Wow, I love her.