Page 4 of Yours To Keep
“Mother. What is he doing here?” I ask bluntly, my mother shooting me a glare so icy I’m sure I’ll have frostbite.
“Oh, come on, Mags. You know you’ve missed me,” Aaron says, his cocky smirk already grating on my patience.
“Hardly,” I say, letting my father pull out my chair and help me into it.
“Magnolia, that’s enough. Aaron just graduated from Stanford. He’s home visiting his parents for the summer and was so eager to visit with us, as well.” She says, smiling sweetly at Aaron.
I grimace, knowing Aaron never does anything without some ulterior motive. During every school break, every holiday meal, every annual family trip, he’s weaseled his way into this house. I know he has his sights set on my father’s company, Monroe Holdings. It’s one of the largest oil and natural gas companies in the south. Judging by the way I’ve seen his father’s stocks drop lately, I’m sure that’s why he’s here now. When we were younger, he followed my eldest sister Rose around like a wasp. She’d swat him away, and he’d always come back. But when she met herhusband, Jameson, I’m sure he saw his chance at getting a foot in the door go up in flames.
“How are things going at that little shop, Maggie moo?” Aaron asks, the nickname he gave me when we were kids grating on my last nerve.
“They’re fine. How’s unemployment, Aaron?” I can throw barbs with the best of them, but my comment elicits a cold stare from my mother. She’s always hated my sarcasm and wit, while my father celebrated it. I think he was glad to have at least one girl turn out just like him. I look over at my dad and see him suppressing a laugh.
“I’m hardly unemployed, moo. I’m next in line to run the largest financial consulting firm in South Carolina,” Aaron replies, his nose physically lifting in the air as he adjusts his suit jacket.
“Really? I thought I saw a nearly two-point drop in your father’s stock holdings last week. My mistake,” I tell him. My father smiles proudly and I can see the red slowly creeping up Aaron’s neck. He’s pissed, or maybe embarrassed. Either way, I don’t care.
“Enough shop talk at the table,” my mother says brightly, kicking me in the shin and making me wince. “Greta, can you serve dinner now?”
Greta, my parent’s housekeeper and chef, has been with us since I was a little girl. She’s more of a mother to me than mine has ever been. It was Greta who wiped my tears when I fell as a kid. She read me bedtime stories when my father was away on business. She told me from the first time my mother ever made a comment about my weight that we were all created as individual molds, no person looking exactly alike. She constantly assured me life is too short to spend it at war with yourself over something as stupid as looks, when we all end up dead at theend, anyway. At the time, I thought it was horribly morbid, but now it’s one of my most cherished pieces of advice.
Greta gives me a wide, warm smile as she comes into the dining room with a serving tray. I return it with one of my own as she places the dishes around the table and heads back into the kitchen. I make a mental note to catch up with her before I leave tonight as my mother chatters away with Aaron about his plans to step into his father’s role soon.
“Pssst…” my father says from the corner of his mouth. I giggle as a lean closer towards his seat at the head of the table. “I’m going out to Holden tomorrow to try and get some time on the board before I have to go to Japan next month. You wanna come?”
Surfing with my dad has been one of my most consistent and beloved memories since I was old enough to stand on the end of his board. I nod enthusiastically, completely ignoring whatever Aaron and my mother are saying.
“I heard the swells are going to be amazing this year. Better than we’ve seen in the last few years for sure,” I tell him. He nods, spearing the white fish on his plate with a smile.
My dad had a heart attack last year, and it was the single most terrifying experience of my life. Facing the reality that one day I will have to live without him on the planet was enough to send me into a depression spiral for weeks. Since then, Greta has been serving fish and vegetables more often. I’m glad someone’s looking out for him. Lord knows my mother is too absorbed in herself to pay attention to his health.
“Maybe you and Aaron can attend the Fourth of July party together this year, hmm Magnolia?” my mother says, my name finally drawing my attention away from my dad and into their conversation.
“What? Why would we do that?” I ask, confused about why I would ever want to attend any event with Aaron Montgomery. Unless it was his funeral, of course.
“Honestly, Magnolia. I swear your head never leaves the clouds. It’s time you and Aaron get more serious about your future, don’t you agree?” She asks, discussing our futures as if they’re one and the same.
“Ummm… what the hell are you talking about, mother?” I ask, and she gasps at my use of a curse word at the dining table.
“Magnolia Azalea! You will not speak that way at this table,” she scolds, and I roll my eyes. “You and Aaron have obviously had a cute flirtation since you were children, but it’s time to get serious about it. Neither of you is getting any younger, you know.”
I swear my jaw must be dragging the ground at this point. I look over at my dad, hoping he has some idea what in the world my mother is talking about. His furrowed brow tells me he’s just as clueless as I am.
“Come on, moo. You know I’ve always had a thing for you.” Aaron interjects, and I physically recoil in my chair.
“Excuse me? How exactly have you ever shown you had ‘a thing’ for me in the decades we’ve known each other, Aaron? By calling me a whale or constantly referring to me as moo like a fucking COW!” I shout across the table at him.
“What?! You called my daughter a what?!” my father bellows, shooting Aaron a murderous look. I fold my arms over my chest, leaning back in my chair. This is the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had in this house, and that’s really saying something. Aaron holds his hands up in defense, and I wonder how he could possibly talk his way out of this.
“Oh, Magnolia. Honestly, you’re being very dramatic. You know, young boys always pick on the girls they like the most,dear.” My mother interjects, and I’m too disgusted by her defense of his actions to even speak.
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be attending any events, now or ever, withyou.” I spit back at him, tears already welling in my eyes. I wish my mother’s behavior surprised me, but it doesn’t. She has never come to my defense in a single one of my twenty-three years on this planet.
“Come on, Mags. It’s not like you’ve got prospects lining up down the block for your hand,” Aaron says, a disgusting cocky smirk on his face.
“Now wait just a-” my dad starts, but I cut him off.
“I’ll have you know, Aaron Montgomery, it wouldn’t matter if every man in Charleston dropped dead tomorrow. I’d rather dry up and die before I ever resorted to you.” I tell him, but he just scoffs.
