The Journey Home(4)
Author: Kelly Elliott

“The fact that you went to Jack’s house six months after your night with Cale only to be told that Cale was in a relationship, that should have snapped you out of it.”

I rolled my eyes, thinking back to that day. “Yeah, I know. God, I still can’t believe his friend tried to get me to sleep with him. What a prick.” I said, giggling.

Monica rolled her eyes. “I’m not. The guy was a class-A prick but, man oh man, was he good in the sack. I’d totally do him again.” She wiggled her eyebrows as I let out a chuckle.

My phone beeped as I pulled it out of my pocket.

Mom: Maddison. Dinner this evening. I’ll send the car.

I rolled my eyes and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Monica asked as she sipped of her coffee.

I bit on my lip, trying to think of an excuse not to go this evening.

“Give it up. You’ve never been able to tell her no, so don’t bother trying to now,” Monica said as she raised one eyebrow at me.

“Shit,” I whispered. I hit reply.

Me: Mom, I have plans this evening. I’m so sorry.

Mom: Break them. The car will be there at 7:30.

I saw her reply and wanted to scream. “Ugh! She treats me like a child and I’m so damn sick of it.”

Monica stood up and looked down at me. “Do something about it, then. Don’t go tonight. Show her she can’t boss you around.”

I looked up at her and smiled. “I think I’ll do that.”

Monica let out a gruff laugh. “Uh huh. Let me know how that works out for you, darlin’. I’ve gotta run. Got a date tonight with that guy. You know, the one that knows how to make dates end rather nicely. He’s got a cock ring too!”

I rolled my eyes and waved goodbye to Monica. I loved my best friend but, I swear, she’d screw any guy who was good looking, blond, and blue-eyed.

I stood and made my way to my car. As much as I wanted to blow off my parents’ dinner tonight, I knew I wouldn’t. I got in my car and turned toward the cleaners as I attempted to psych myself up for an evening of hearing my mother ask me over and over why I was single, then following up with telling all of her friends about my bizarre singleness. In my mother’s eyes, I was a failure, and she reminded me of this every single time I saw her.

“This is going to be one hell of a long evening,” I said to myself.

I APPROACHED MY parents’ front door and jumped when it flew open. I smiled at my mother, who stood before me, dressed to the nines.

“Mom, you look lovely this evening,” I said as I took her hand and kissed it.

“You’re late, Cale,” she hissed through her teeth.

I noted the empty driveway. “Doesn’t look like the party’s started yet, Mom.”

She shot me a dirty look and turned to walk back into the house. “Mitchel,” she called. “Your son is here. The party is not here, Cale.”

I rolled my eyes as my mother walked into my father’s office. When she was pissed at me, I was my father’s son. But when I did well, I was her darling baby boy.

I followed her into the office. My father was sitting behind his giant, dark walnut desk. The smell of the office instantly brought me back to my childhood. I’d loved to play in here, hiding from my mother under the desk. My father would laugh and tell me that she’d never find me, since she’d declared the office forbidden to me. But, according to my father, I was a breath of fresh air—I was always welcome.

“Evening, Dad,” I said with a smile, reaching across the desk to shake his hand.

“Cale, it’s good to see you, son. Let me just finish up this one thing and then we’ll head to the goddamn party your mother is forcing us both to attend.”

I attempted to hide my smile as my mother shoved her hands on her hips and glared.

“Do you know how important this man is to your career, Mitchel?” she asked in a shocked tone.

My father closed his laptop, stood up, and gave my mother a fake smile. “Do you know how badly I want to retire and travel the world? I can’t, though because my wife demands the world of me and, in order to keep up with her high maintenance lifestyle, I have to work my ass off and socialize with arrogant, stuck-up assholes.”

My mother gasped as my father winked at me and left the room.

My mother muttered a few words under her breath and grabbed her shawl and a clutch. She gave me a dirty look and shook her head as she walked out of the office, ordering me to follow her.

“Come on, Cale. Maybe we can find you a nice, young lady tonight.”

“Oh, God, Mom. Please don’t start that again.”

She threw her hand up, brushing me off. I followed my parents out and slipped into the back seat of a Bentley Mulsanne. “New car?” I asked as I settled into the seat.

“Your father’s new car.” My mother said as she powdered her nose.

“Nice,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

My mother sighed. “You’d have all of this, Cale, if you weren’t so damn stubborn. All you had to do was work for your father’s company. But, no, you had to go after some silly job.”

I shook my head and looked out the window. I had a degree in civil engineering with a minor in mathematics. I loved my job as a surveyor, and I loved traveling. It meant I could be hundreds of miles away from my mother, for weeks at a time.

“I don’t want to work for Dad, Mom. I like my job.”

She chuckled. “You live in a flat! You could have so much more. That’s why you’re single.”

My father had inherited a shit-ton of money from his father. My granddad was originally from London, England—some hotshot duke of something. He owned an English newspaper and lived half the year in the UK and the other half in America. We’d gone to England at least a half dozen times to see family before I was even sixteen. I always loved visiting their country estate.

“Mary, please,” my father said. “Leave the boy alone. I admire his ambition to make it on his own.”

My mother lowered her voice. “Psh, he’d have a wife by now if he would just do things my way.”

“You know, Mom,” I said, “I’m still in the car and can hear you.”

“Let’s just get there and pray that this evening is beneficial.” She said as she pulled out her phone and began texting someone.

TWO AND HALF hours later, I was standing in the corner, drinking another glass of wine while my mother moved from person to person. She was attempting to kiss up to some guy who owned a communications company. Every now and then, she’d walk a young girl up to me to introduce her, and I’d have to stand there and make small talk. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there and get home so I could pack my bags and prep to leave for London. I was making the trip to take care of something for my father regarding Gramps’ newspaper.