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'M' is For: [Ch13] Lover's Folly - Part 2
🕑 Added 2025-03-11 23:00:04 +0000 UTCDinner that night was at a nearby Mexican restaurant in a strip mall. It had been around since I could remember, a favorite for post-high school events and birthday parties. I made my parents swear not to tell the restaurant that it was my birthday, though. I would have withered under the embarrassment of having to wear the bedazzled sombrero that the waitstaff brought out for such special guests.
Mom, I noticed, had some pointed questions to ask Thomas about how he knew me and for how long. Like Jenny, she seemed to be drawing her own conclusions. I had hoped to avoid bringing up the topic of Missy, but as her questions became more forward, I finally felt obliged to put the charade to an end.
“Thomas really is just a friend,” I cut in. “He’s dating one of my best friends. We actually met through her.”
My mom opened and closed her mouth in shock. “Oh. I thought…”
I smiled at Thomas, who returned my smile. “Thomas has become a huge source of support for me, though. I can’t imagine what I’d do without him.”
“Good for you, Mallory,” my dad said, reaching for a taco chip. “We were a little worried you wouldn’t make friends in the city.”
“Yes, that’s all very well and good,” my mom said, quickly recovering, “but are you seeing anyone right now?”
Somehow, I didn’t think having kinky sex with the same group of friends every month was what she had in mind.
“No,” I replied with as much calmness I could muster while the first curls of dread formed in the pit of my stomach. Here we went again, the same old tired conversation that plagued me ever since my split with Brett…
“I don’t like to see you like this,” my mom said reproachfully. “Hasn’t it been long enough? It’s time you moved on and started dating again. You’re already twenty-four now. I was engaged to your dad at that age. Look at Jenny—”
“Mom,” Jenny said, and without losing a beat, Mom changed tack.
“Maybe you should forgive Brett. He was so good to you.”
“MOM,” Jenny said again, more loudly, and this time even my dad gave a warning, “Anna…”
But once my mom got started on something, I knew from experience there was no stopping her until she felt she’d aired out every last bit of her grievance and then some.
“I’m just saying, sometimes Mallory has a little bit of a temper on her,” my mom insisted, raising her voice as well. “Was what happened between you two really so bad that you’re going to stay mad at the poor boy forever? Sometimes you have to compromise a little in a relationship, especially when you find someone who’s willing to take you the way you look. You know I only say this because—”
“Mrs. Ryan,” Thomas said, and there was an edge in his voice that I’d never heard before. “I respect that Mal is your daughter, but you have no right to speak to her like that.”
Everyone, myself included, stared at Thomas. A muscle leaped in Thomas’s clenched jaw. I’d never seen him this furious before with anyone. I hadn’t thought he could lose his temper.
“Maybe I haven’t known Mal as long as you have, but I know without a doubt that your daughter is smart, beautiful, and kind, and more than capable of making her own decisions about who and when she wants to date. You owe her the grace to let her live her life the way she wants, and I promise you, she will do a fine job.”
I felt a rush of an indescribable emotion flood me…it was only seconds later that I thought to give it a name. Gratitude. No one had ever spoken up for me like that before. Incredibly, I could feel hot tears welling up in my eyes, and I had to quickly look down at my plate so no one could see. I breathed deeply, willing myself to master the array of emotions that threatened to unravel me.
“Well!” my mom exclaimed, two bright spots burning in her cheeks. Her throat bobbed as she struggled to summon an appropriate response.
“Anna, let it go,” my dad said quietly. “You’ve made your point. Let Mallory enjoy her birthday dinner.”
My mom glanced around the table. Max was looking down, embarrassed on my behalf; Jenny’s mouth was drawn in a thin, angry line; Thomas met her stare for stare, and never did he seem so big and formidable as he did in that moment. As Mom exhaled, she seemed to deflate.
“I only say this because I worry about you, Mallory,” my mom said to me. A note of entreaty had crept into her voice.
“I know, Mom,” I answered quietly. “But Thomas is right. You can trust me to make my own decisions.”
Beneath the table, Thomas’s hand found mine and squeezed. I squeezed back.
❖❖❖
It was an uncomfortable car ride back to the house. Max and Jenny did their best to thaw the silence, and things fractionally lightened up enough for us to enjoy the cake and ice cream. We stuck to safe topics, like the Buffalo Bills’ performance this season and whether this winter, we were going to get as much snow as the last. It was nearly eleven o’ clock when Jenny and Max finally called it in. We said our goodbyes and then they headed home. Not long after, Dad and Mom retired upstairs, but not before Dad pulled me aside.
“I like Thomas,” Dad told me gruffly. “He seems like a good kid. I’m glad you have him as a friend.”
“Me too,” I managed to say, my throat constricting with emotion. After a moment, I added unsteadily, “It’s been difficult to talk about, especially with Mom being the way she is, but Brett really wasn’t good for me. I’m much happier without him.”
My dad’s eyebrows drew together, wrinkling his forehead. I wondered what he was thinking, if he was going to press me for more details. Instead, he patted me on the shoulder. “I understand. If you ever want to talk about it, you can come to me anytime and I’ll listen.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I love you, kiddo.”
“I love you too.”
With the parents upstairs, it was just Thomas and me left to ourselves in the living room. I sat on the couch, my ankle dutifully elevated on a pillow beneath an ice pack to try to reduce the swelling. Thomas sat in an armchair beside me. This was our first moment alone since dinner, and I was feeling more self-conscious around him than usual.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you for what you said earlier. It really meant a lot.”
“It had to be said,” Thomas said quietly. “I hated the way she was putting you down. You deserve better than that.”
“It comes from a place of love, but yeah…in her eyes, I’ll always be a clumsy little girl tripping over my feet and bursting into tears whenever someone calls me names.”
“Well, I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you. I didn’t mean to lose my temper like that.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think my mom liked it, but she listened for the first time, which is, like, amazing. And you made a fan out of my dad. Not many people can stand up to my mom once she gets going.”
“Then I’m glad I could help.” The corner of Thomas’s lips lifted into a slight smile. “You’re always looking after others, it seems only fair that I should do the same.”
I found myself holding Thomas’s eye a moment too long. I blushed and looked away, my heart hammering in my chest. He was making me out to sound like some sort of saint, when I knew I was anything but.
A brief silence fell.
“What, exactly, did Missy mean that she was giving you to me?” I asked Thomas softly, finally giving voice to the question that had lurked in the corners of my mind ever since Missy had made her announcement on Thursday.
Thomas froze. Then, “It means you have her permission to do whatever you want. If you need a friend, I’ll be your friend. If you want more…you just have to ask.”
Fuck, yes, I wanted more. I wanted to rip off his T-shirt and claim him with my hands and my lips and my teeth. I wanted to hear him scream my name, to look down into his eyes and see only myself reflected in those smoky depths.
“There’s just one thing,” Thomas said, and I felt the little hairs rise on the back of my neck.
“What is it?”
Thomas hesitated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a little plastic bag. In the bag was a small pink tablet that I recognized as one of Missy’s aphrodisiacs. I’d never used them personally, but I’d seen them passed around at a few parties, and I knew just how powerful they could be. “Missy wanted you to have this. It’s her condition if you want to have fun tonight.”
“Red pill or blue pill,” I said, my lips twisting ironically. “Which one would you take?”
But I had spent the better part of this afternoon acutely aware of how rapidly my self-control was unraveling. There was only one choice to make.
I lifted the small plastic bag from Thomas’s open palm. “Should we go to your room?” I asked.
