Just as Scarlett and I had sat down to talk about the timeline for me moving in, my father called for the fifth time in a row, so I reluctantly left to take his call.
Which is how the four of us ended up at my parents’ house for an early dinner this evening. I’d barely gotten through introductions when my father demanded “a word” and brought me into his study.
He offers me a glass of gin and I decline, just like I always do, because I can’t stomach the taste.
“So, do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?” he asks me once he’s sat down with his glass of gin.
“If you would’ve let me finish introductions, you would’ve heard that Scarlett and I got engaged a few days ago and we were excited to share the news with our families, but unfortunately word got out before we could tell everyone in person,” I explain, bracing my elbows on my knees, anxious to get out of this room I’ve grown to hate over the years.
Even if it weren’t for the cold, rigidity of the room, I would still hate it for all the memories these four walls hold. Dozens of scoldings. Meetings with coaches my dad had no business talking to. Shouting matches between our father and Jax that I had to break up. The list goes on and on.
“What’s with the entourage?” he questions.
“What do you mean?”
“The kid and the teenager. Why are they here? Don’t tell me the kid is yours. Haven’t I taught you anything?” he asks, his tone laced with disgust.
“Their names are Gemma and Gunner, and they’re her younger siblings.”
“Couldn’t her parents have found a different babysitter for the evening? This dinner is important to your mother. She was devastated to find out her oldest child had run off and got engaged without telling us.”
“Like I said, we just got engaged earlier this week—we didn’t run off. Scarlett is Gemma and Gunner’s guardian; their parents passed away in a plane crash five years ago. I’m sure you remember their father, Charles Carlisle.”
That bit of information catches his attention. “So is this guardianship temporary until another family member can adopt them? Five years seems like a long time.”
My shoulders stiffen at his implication.
“No, Scarlett is the sole guardian of her siblings, and will remain as such until they’re eighteen years old. She’s in the process of adopting them, but that hasn’t been finalized yet.”
He moves in his chair, sitting forward. “If you marry her, what does that make you?”
“I would become their co-guardian once we’re married.”
“Christ, Bennett. We’re Wilsons for god’s sake. We don’t become guardians to bastards.” My father slams his free hand down on the arm of his chair.
I clench my jaw so tight I fear my teeth may crack. “They’re not bastards. They were orphans and their sister became their guardian. Show some damn respect for my future family.”
“Respect? Future family?” he questions, his voice raising so loud I fear they’ll overhear. “I don’t give a damn if her family comes from old money and is respected, you will not play daddy to two children who are not your own. End of discussion.”
“Good, I’m glad this discussion is over because I’m not sure where you got the impression that you have any say in what goes on in my life. Scarlett will be my wife. And I will be the best co-guardian to those two children in spite of what you showed me growing up. If I can’t do that as a Wilson, I’d gladly take her last name instead. Bennett Carlisle has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Without another breath, I stand up and clasp the button of my suit jacket before leaving and slamming his study door behind me.
Fuck him for thinking he can tell me who I’ll marry. It took everything in me not to knock him on his ass when he had the audacity to talk that way about Scar, Gemma, and Gunner.
When I get to the sitting room where the three of them are talking to my mother, I stand beside Scarlett and place my hand on her shoulder.
“I apologize for the interruption, Mom, but we unfortunately won’t be staying for dinner.”
The look of hurt she looks back at me with isn’t easily masked. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind, sweetie?”
“I’m sorry, Mom. Something came up,” I lie, but after thirty years, she knows the truth. Something with my father came up, and I refuse to take his shit as an adult.
“Is everything alright?” Scarlett asks, concern etched across her features as she stands and moves closer to me.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I lean in so she can hear me speak under my breath. “Yeah, I’ll tell you about it later,” I promise, though I know I won’t be telling her all of the sordid details.
“Well, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk more. It was lovely to meet you, Scarlett, Gemma, and Gunner. I hope we will have the opportunity to get to know one another more in the near future,” my mother says before pulling each of them into a warm embrace.
When she gets to me, my mom wraps me in the biggest hug and does what she does best, apologizes on behalf of my father. “It’s not your responsibility to clean up his messes, Ma,” I whisper into her ear.
