Love Entwined (14 page)

We pulled up to Bentley’s parents’ house about two hours later than expected. Bentley really did take his mother’s advice to heart—he didn’t rush anything. After fully pleasuring me in the shower, he took his sweet time on the bed as well.

“We shouldn’t have taken so long, Bentley,” I said, as he opened the passenger side door and held his hand out for me.

“Would you relax? Everything’s going to be fine. They loved you when we were kids and they’re going to love you now.”

“You don’t know that. They haven’t seen me in decades. What if they don’t think I’m good enough for their son?” I asked, concern evident in my voice.

“First, I think it’s adorable that this actually concerns you. I’m nearly thirty-five, you know. Hell, as Katie would remind me, that’s nearly forty. This old man is capable of making his own decisions when it comes to the women he dates. But it doesn’t matter anyways because they will love you. I mean, what isn’t there to love? You’ve made a career out of helping orphaned children. You have a heart of gold. You’re pure perfection from the inside out, Shamrock.”

I chuckled, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“OK, you’re right. After last night and this morning, you’re far from pure.”

“Ireland, Darling, it’s been far too long,” Rita interjected, as we walked up the winding cobblestone path which led to the wraparound porch of their remodeled, historic plantation farmhouse.

Rita was just as lovely as I remembered. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a loose bun with a few curly tendrils framing her face. The pink skirt and ivory blouse she was wearing had me second guessing the linen sundress I’d thrown on, still probably wrinkled from my suitcase.

Bentley’s family had never been hurting for money. Before his retirement, Martin had been CEO of a large southern banking corporation and Rita still owned a chain of successful, high-end clothing boutiques throughout Kentucky and Tennessee.

Money never defined who they were though. His family had always accepted my mother and me even though, as a child, I’d often worn hand-me-down clothes and my mother didn’t drive the fanciest cars. We weren’t poor by any means, my mother kept two jobs to ensure I never did without, but I didn’t grow up with the same luxuries as Bentley.

“You’re just as gorgeous as I remember and you look so much like your mother. I was always so envious of her beautiful blond hair and big green eyes,” Rita added, kissing me on the cheek as we stepped onto the porch. 
Shit! I’d forgotten to ask Bentley what to call his parents on the drive over. I’ll have to play it safe and cross my fingers that I don’t offend anyone.

“It’s good to see you again, too, Mrs. Roberts,” I said, wrapping my arms around her.

“Don’t be silly, dear. It’s Rita. And, seriously, you really do have such a stunning glow about you.”

Bentley turned his head and gave me a knowing look. So only I could see, he mouthed, “Freshly fucked.”

My face flushed and I cleared my throat hoping Rita hadn’t noticed the exchange between her son and me.

“Mom, stop fawning all over my girlfriend,” Bentley interjected, attempting to take the focus off me. 
Girlfriend? Did Bentley just refer to me as his girlfriend? I suppose it would be logical since we’d both said those three little words the night before. Was I ready to be Bentley’s girlfriend?
 Before I had too much time to dwell on the subject, Rita focused her attention onto Bentley.

“Jamie, I’ve missed you, son. Come give your mother a squeeze. If I’d known the only way I was going to get you down here was to go under the knife, I would have scheduled surgery years ago.”

“Mom, stop it. I was just down here with Tanner and Staci at Christmas,” he said, wrapping his mother in a firm embrace.

“That was three Christmases ago,” she said, furrowing her brow. “And, we won’t speak of that awful woman whom I never approved of again. But, I do miss my grandson. It’s been too many months since we made it north to see you. I bet Tanner is getting so big. Hopefully you can bring him down to see his gam-gam soon.”

“That was three years ago? You know I’m sorry, Mom. Things became hectic for a while—you know, with the divorce and all,” Bentley said with remorse. “Tanner would love to come see his grandparents though. We’ll have to Facetime when we get back to Michigan. I know he misses you.”

“Hush. We won’t have any further conversation about it. You have your Ireland by your side now. The way it was always supposed to be,” she said, placing her hand on mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Now, you two head inside. I know Martin is just dying to see you both.”

Just as Rita had foretold, Martin was standing in the foyer waiting for us to enter. He swooped me up into his arms, my feet barely touching the ground, before I’d hardly even stepped over the threshold.

“Well if it’s isn’t our little Shamrock all grown up,” Martin said, placing me back on my feet. “You certainly have grown into a beautiful woman. My son sure is a lucky man.” Everything was happening so quickly. My head began to spin. I hadn’t seen Rita and Martin in nearly twenty years and in that moment, so many emotions and memories came flooding back. I’d always thought of Mr. and Mrs. Roberts as family. But after the accident, they’d been ripped away from me—just like everyone else I’d loved. I took a deep breath hoping it would bring my sudden dizziness to a halt.

“You’ve got that right, Dad,” Bentley interjected, sensing my unease.

“Martin, don’t be rude, let our company come in and sit down,” Rita said, pointing toward the living room.

“Yes, Rita is right. Where are my manners? Please come in and make yourself at home.”

“I have cheese and crackers in the kitchen. Can I get you some iced tea, too?” Rita asked, as she began to exit the room.

“That’d be great, Mom. We’d both like some. Thank you,” Bentley answered.

A few minutes later, Rita came into the room carrying one tray loaded with cheese and crackers, and with cookies, peanuts, trail mix and ham rollups. Martin wasn’t far behind with two large pitchers, one with iced tea and the other filled with lemonade.

“Mom, did you invite the neighborhood and not tell me?” Bentley joked. “I thought we were having dinner shortly.”

“Leave your mother alone, Son. I tried talking some sense into her when she was buying all of this at the market this morning, but she was just so excited that the two of you would be visiting. We don’t get much company as Jamie lives so far north and Kevin is stationed overseas. She’ll be laid up for a while after the knee surgery so I figured I’d let her get away with it just this once.”

I popped up from the couch to help Rita. I don’t know how her impending surgery had already slipped my mind. “Rita, is there anything I can help you with? How are you feeling anyways?”

“No, thank you, Ireland. Please sit back down and relax. Dinner is already in the oven. There isn’t much else to prepare. My knee will be fine, dear.”

Martin poured three glasses of iced tea along with a lemonade for himself before joining his wife on the loveseat. I took a gulp and liquid came shooting out of my mouth.

“Shamrock, are you OK?” Bentley asked, patting me on the back—assuming I was choking.

My face reddened from embarrassment. “Oh my god. I am so sorry. I just wasn’t expecting sweet tea. I forgot that it was a thing down here,” I said on the brink of tears.

Instead of getting angry, Rita started to laugh. “It’s quite all right. I should have warned you. I forgot you crazy northerners drink your tea without sugar. I could never understand the point of that myself. If you prefer tea without sugar why wouldn’t you just drink water?” she said, shaking her head in confusion.

“Let me get a towel to wipe up,” she offered. “The washroom is through the hallway and to your right if you’d like to clean yourself up.”

After taking a few minutes to collect myself, I rejoined Bentley and his parents in the living room.

“Again, I am so sorry about the carpet,” I said.

“Not another word of it, Ireland. You can’t even see a stain,” Rita assured me. “Well, since we know the sweet tea is out—that is what you northerners call it right—how about I pour you a glass of lemonade? Or, I did make up a batch of sangria. Perhaps you would prefer something a little stronger?”

“Actually, sangria sounds perfect.”

A
fter three more glasses of sangria, I was actually starting to feel pretty comfortable around Bentley’s parents.

“Would you like another glass of the good stuff to go with dinner, Ireland?” Rita asked, as she began setting the table with four place settings.

“No, I think I’ve had more than enough, Rita. At this rate, Bentley will have to carry me out of here.”

“I don’t mind that one bit,” he yelled from the den where he and his dad were watching an Atlanta Braves baseball game.

“James Bentley Roberts! Your mother can hear you,” Rita shouted back.

“Sorry Ma!”

“It’s really OK if you’d like another drink, dear. Just think of it as a fruit salad. I know that secret because that’s the same story I tell myself,” she explained, pouring herself another glass.

“Well, when you put it that way, it’s kind of hard to refuse,” I said, passing her my glass.

Rita and I chatted for a few more minutes before she called the men into the dining room for dinner.

Bentley surprised me a bit as he pulled my chair out from the table and gestured, like a true gentleman, for me to sit before moving it back into place.

“Your mother taught you well,” I said with a smile.

“Can I tell you a secret,” Bentley said, whispering in my ear.

“Of course,” I said, trying to suppress my laughter.

“She’s watching me like a hawk. When you excused yourself to use the bathroom, she told me she would kick my ass if I messed this up.”

That was all it took for me to fully lose it. I doubled over in laughter as Rita walked into the room carrying a piping hot tray of homemade macaroni and cheese.

“What do you two find so funny?” Rita asked, setting the tray directly in front of me.

“Your son was telling me about the threats you made while I was freshening up. Thank you for having my back, Rita.”

“Always, dear. Us girls have to stick together,” she said with a sly wink.

“Did you hear that Dad? We don’t even stand a chance.” Bentley said to Martin who had taken a seat at the head of the table.

“It’s best if you just smile and nod, Son. Surely you have learned that at your age,” Martin said.

I could tell Bentley was getting a kick out of this exchange between his parents. “Please school me, Dad. What is your tip for a successful marriage?”

“Your mother is always right. Even if I know she’s wrong—she’s right,” he said, placing a chaste kiss on Rita’s cheek.

I really had missed this. I remember sitting at this very table several times as a child. Rita often agreed to watch me when my mother was at her second job so she wouldn’t have to spend her paychecks on childcare for me. Mac and cheese night was always my favorite.

“Please help yourself first, Ireland,” Rita said, motioning toward the tray of gooey pasta.

“It’s OK. Someone else may go first.”

“Don’t be silly, dear. I made the macaroni and cheese just for you. I remembered it was your favorite. You especially liked the crunchy, Ritz cracker topping. I made sure to put extra on it for you.”