To the Steadfast (24 page)

I step into the restaurant
with every intention of running. All I have to do is
turn around and then I will be home free. Something about this meeting has
sweat pouring from me in places that shouldn’t sweat. Bassam’s firm grip on my
forearm stops me from bolting for the door.

“I’m more nervous than
you are, so you don’t get to run, okay?” he whispers against my skin.

I sigh and give a small
nod before continuing through the lobby.

The hostess perks up as
we approach and her hands move for a pile of menus. “Welcome to Ooh La Betty.
How many in your party?”

It’s the cheesiest name
for a restaurant, but it’s one of the only sit-down restaurants we have in
Betty, and my father isn’t about to meet my boyfriend inside a fast food
restaurant.

“We’re actually meeting
someone. Lombardi, party of four,” I tell her.

She looks down at her
paper and motions for me to follow her. As soon as we enter the dining area, I
spot my father seated at a table by the window. He’s in his usual suit and tie
and his hair is grayer than I last remember. When he sees us, he stands.

“Dakota.”

I give a half wave with
my fingers and motion to Bassam. “Bassam, meet my father, Doctor Lombardi.”

Bassam holds out his
hand and gives my dad a firm shake. His people skills are impressive, so I’m
hoping he can come up with enough conversation to fill in all the awkward silences.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask.

“Late, as usual. Sit
down. I’ve already ordered you a sweet tea. Dakota, you’re not old enough to
drink, right?”

“I’m twenty,” I remind
him.

“That’s right. Bassam,
care for some champagne?”

“No, sir, but thank
you.”

My father straightens
out his tie and looks between the two of us. “Please, call me Doctor.”

“Dad!” I hiss.

“Just kidding, you can
call me whatever you’d like. So, Bassam, when do you graduate?”

“I should be done with
my Master’s at Vanderbilt within the year. Then I’ll be working with for my
father’s company while I get my doctorate.”

“And what does your
father do?” My father leans forward and strokes his chin with interest. He’s
obviously trying to find something wrong with Bassam.

“He owns a private
consulting firm that does chemical and biomedical research.”

“Interesting. I must
say you’re more driven than Dakota’s last boyfriend. What was his name?” He
snaps his fingers a few times and looks to me, but I don’t answer.

 
Please don’t bring
him up. Please don’t bring him up.

“Anyway the guy was bad
news, got her arrested and everything.”

Bassam raises an
eyebrow and leans back, ready to hear about my past love life. I don’t talk
about the past with him, but he knows the main parts. “Really? I had no idea.”

“I just hope you aren’t
planning any secret experiments that may get my daughter in trouble. Involving
drugs? Meth labs?”

Bassam shakes his head,
laughing the entire time. He thinks my father is joking, but he’s dead
serious. 

“I keep my work at
school.”

“Good, now let’s eat.”
My father pulls up his menu and begins mumbling to himself.

Bassam hides his face
with the menu and whispers under his breath. “Arrested?”

“Long story. I’ll
explain it later.”

“Oh, you better. I have
to hear this.”

No, actually. He
doesn’t really want to, but I let it go.

For the rest of dinner,
my father keeps his embarrassing comments to himself and for the first guy I’ve
ever introduced to him, it goes smoothly. Toward the end of the meal, my mother
swoops in. She pulls her large sunglasses off her face and spends a few seconds
staring at Bassam.

“What nationality are
you?” she asks.

I grab his hand under
the table and squeeze it tightly. It’s not uncommon for my mother to say such
things. I only hope he’ll take it with a grain of salt.

“Turkish and Lebanese.
I was born in Florida.”

“Wonderful.”

Such distaste drips
from her voice that I lean forward and shout. “Mom!”

Bassam stops me from
standing. The restaurant quiets for a moment before everyone goes back to his
or her food.

“Don’t get all
dramatic, Dakota. It was a pertinent question.”

“If you’re going to act
like this, why show up?”

She snaps her fingers
in the air. “Oh, waiter. Bring me a white wine, please.”

“Have you heard back
from nursing school yet?” my father asks.

“Not yet. Any day
though.”

My mother cuts in,
looking for another way to show my incompetence. “I hope you applied to more
than one. It would be such a waste to get into none.”

With a heavy sigh, I
answer. “Yes, Mother. I applied to more than one school.”

The waiter sets a bowl
of chocolate ice cream in front of me, but even chocolate can’t improve the
mood I’m feeling. Something about my mother always brings out the worst in me.
It’s like she’s always there––watching, judging, and criticizing me.

“So…” My father tries
to come up with something to say, but nothing will ease the tension at the
table.

“Are you two planning
on getting married anytime soon?” my mother asks, continuing her interrogation.

“Ummm…” I look to
Bassam who, for some reason, is amused by my mother.

“Not anytime soon. We
both want to finish school first.”

“Well, you aren’t
getting any younger. I suppose you heard that Suzanne March is engaged to
Killian Carmike?”

No, I didn’t. I don’t
remember seeing a ring on her finger and neither of them had mentioned it to
me. I keep a smile on my face and pretend to be interested. She wants to plan a
wedding to show me off to her other snooty friends, not because she wants me
happy.

“That’s nice.”

“Your friend from the
hospital, right?” Bassam asks me.

My throat has suddenly
dried, not allowing me to speak. I nod. With each passing second, panic sets in
as I realize what is going on. Killian is over me. He’s marrying Suzanne.
Suzanne tries to be a good person, but behind that face is a girl who isn’t
capable of loving Killian the way he deserves. Suzanne always reminded me of my
mother. Quick to point out the massive amounts of money her family has, and
manipulative like any future lawyer should be.

“Suzanne’s parents are
renting out the entire country club for a party. You’ll be expected to attend.”
Her voice catches me off guard as Suzanne and Killian slip from my mind.

She’s doing this on
purpose. Though no one else notices, there’s malice behind her eyes. She knows
how close Killian and I once were and she loves throwing this engagement in my
face.

“Of course,” I say. I
won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing how annoyed I am.

“Suzanne,” Bassam
remarks. He turns to me. “That’s your friend from boarding school, right? Yours
and Lydia’s friend.”

“Yes, her family and
ours used to go on vacation together every year when the girls were younger,”
my mother says. “Her parents were in the same graduating class as Dakota’s
father and I.”

“Suzanne and I don’t
really talk much these days,” I explain to Bassam, still trying to hide how
upset I’m getting at the news. “She’s Pre-Law at Harvard. She’s really busy.”

“Ah.”

He doesn’t say it like
he had an ah-ha moment, he says it like he’s trying to figure out why I’m
suddenly turning pale.

“Have you taken Bassam
to meet Nona yet?” my father asks.

I shake my head. “Not
yet. I’m hoping to tomorrow before we leave.”

“Good. She’d approve.”

We only stay a few more
minutes before my father makes up an excuse about a work emergency and jets out
of there.

Bassam pulls his car
out of the lot and whistles lowly. “Whoa, you were right about your mom. I
can’t believe she talked to you like that.”

“Well, the only person
she loves is herself. You’d think she’d want to meet the guy I’ve been dating
for a year, but no. Nothing I do will ever be enough.”

“Don’t stress.” He
takes one hand off the steering wheel and grabs mine. He kisses the back of it
and grins. “All we need is each other.”

His words should make
me feel better, but I can’t stop thinking about the what if’s. What if I hadn’t
broken Killian’s heart? Would we be together right now? Is Bassam really the
one for me? Am I really over Mischa? It’s hard to tell. I feel over him, but
what if I see him again? Will all those feelings come rushing back? We get out
of the car and walk to our room.

“I need to take a
shower,” he tells me before taking off his shirt and throwing it across the
bed. I study his physique as he removes the rest of his clothing. Bassam really
is a good guy. He has all the qualifications that I want, and his career goals
seemed to impress my father. But I don’t know if I picked him because my father
would like him and the risk of him breaking my heart is slim, or because I
really do love him.

The shower starts and
is followed by the sound of his horrible singing. I pull up my email on my
phone and check it for something about nursing school. Nothing. What will I do
if I have to go to school even farther away from him? Being so far apart has
already put such a strain on our relationship.

I climb in the bed and
accidently kick his pants on the ground. When I bend over to pick them up, his
phone falls out. I pick it up just as a text message comes in. Across the top
of the phone, a short summary of the text scrolls by. It’s from someone named
Richelle. My hands begin to shake. I trust Bassam.  I do, but I keep waiting
for him to hurt me. He’s not my dad, he’s not Mischa. He’s never given me a
reason not to trust him, but I’ve never heard of this girl before. Curiosity
gets the best of me, so  I flip through the messages, which are all innocent
enough, but a few of them are borderline flirting.

Bassam: Thought
about your thesis yet?

Richelle: A little,
there’s a nanoscience lecture next month that I’m interested in. You should
join me and split the cost.

Bassam: Sounds
interesting. Let me see if I can get away. We’d have to find a double room
though. LOL

Richelle: Of course
;) Wouldn’t want anything to happen.

I shove his phone back
in his pocket and lower my head between my knees.
Innocent enough. Innocent
enough.
They were joking around like something had already happened. And
he’s never mentioned her before, that has to mean something. He hasn’t even
mentioned this trip, which means he has something to hide. Before I can
convince myself that I’m overreacting, Bassam walks out of the bathroom with a
towel around his hips. One look at my face and he freezes.

“What’s wrong?”

“You tell me.” I cross
my hands in front of my chest and stare him down.

“I have no idea what
you are talking about and frankly I’m not in the mood for these games.”

“Who’s Richelle?”

“Umm…a friend from
school. We’re both in the program.”

“Really. Have you ever
slept with her?”

“Where is this coming
from?”

“Answer the question!”
I pick up the pillow from behind me and throw it towards him.

“No, I’ve never slept
with her. Why are you asking about her?” He begins getting dressed.

“When were you planning
on telling me about this trip you and her are taking together?”

“Are you snooping
through my phone?” He hasn’t raised his voice this entire time, but I can tell
he’s getting annoyed.

“It went off,” I say.

“You’re acting crazy,
you know that? Most of the time, you act like you don’t care at all, and now
you suddenly get extremely jealous? You’re just looking for an excuse to fight.
Why can’t you just let us be happy.”