Page 26 of The Deadbeat DILF
“We’ll take the spare then,” my mother said before checking the time on her dainty silver watch. I could only imagine whose money bought that. “We’ll get cleaned up before dinner.”
“I can order something,” I offered as my parents started to filter out of the living room. I didn’t even care if I blew a bunch ofmoney on takeout. I just wanted things to be as easy and painless as possible.
“I’ll make something,” Robert told me.
I turned to him. “Are you sure? You’ve done so much already.” I twisted my mouth. “Besides, my family won’t appreciate the gesture. You’ve already seen that they’re not the most…grateful.”
He reached out, touching my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just do chicken alfredo. Easy. It won’t even be from scratch. The pasta will come from a box, and the cheese is pre-shredded,” he assured me.
Gradually, I relaxed under his warm hands, feeling the stress seep out of my muscles.
“Thank you,” I told him, meaning the words with my whole soul. If he wasn’t here, this day would be even more unbearable than it already was.
He gently squeezed my upper arms before heading to the kitchen to prepare for dinner. I decided to stay out of his way and make sure everyone had what they needed. I handed out extra blankets, spare toothbrushes, and toiletries to my family members.
I didn’t like thinking of my family as exhausting. You were supposed to love your family, right? And Ididlove them. Deep down.
But liking them? That was another story.
I didn’t even feel guilty about it because I knew that they didn’t exactly like me, either.
“Here are some towels,” I said, stepping into the spare bedroom. Dad was slouched on the bed, so Mom took the towels and set them down. I was about to leave, when she pulled me back.
“Brooke,” she hissed, her voice so low that Dad couldn’t hear. “What on earth are you thinking, living with that man?” she demanded.
I stared at her. “‘That man?’” I echoed. “He has a name.”
Mom waved a hand, like that wasn’t important. “How old is he?” she demanded. “Fifty?”
“No,” I replied. “Not that his age is any of your business.”
She shook her head. “And you claim he’s living here temporarily?”
“I’m not claiming anything. It’s the truth.” I frowned at her. “What’s the issue? He’s my tenant. We have a rental contract and everything.”
She gave me a shrewd look. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t need the money, so why are you renting out a room to him? There’s not something going on between you two, is there?”
“What? No! Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”
She pursed her lips. “It’s not proper for you to live with an older man. It makes you look like a certain type of woman.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. My jaw dropped, but then I drew myself up, shoulders rolling back. ‘A certain type of woman?’ I wanted to scream. Instead, I controlled my temper.
“I don’t need to explain or defend my choices to you, Mom,” I said in a cool voice. “I’m a grown adult. This is my home. I bought this place myself. I am letting you stay here as a guest. Robert has been nothing but kind to all of you. In fact, he is cooking dinner for all of us right now. So, I would appreciate it if you could treat him with the respect he deserves.”
I walked out of the room before Mom could have the last word. I fled to the kitchen to check on Robert. “Can I help with something? Anything?”
Robert looked up from stirring the cooked fettuccine into the creamy Alfredo sauce, the most delicious smell filling thekitchen. “I’m just about done, but if you want to bring the bowls out to the dining table when I’m done filling them, that would be great.”
I gladly busied myself and transported bowls full of warm pasta to the dining table, wanting to get through dinner as soon as I could. My strength was sapped. Soon, my family entered the room and took their seats at the table, already digging in without waiting for Robert and me to even sit down.
Robert and I took our seats, sitting opposite each other at the end of the table.
“How is it?” Robert asked Brandon, who sat next to him.
Brandon gave him a thumbs-up and a muffled “mhmm”, his mouth full of food.
“So, do you have a job, Richard?” Mom asked after she patted her mouth clean with a napkin before crumbling it up and dropping it onto the table.
