Things are Complicated

Chapter 42: The F-it-all Stage in Life

“Jed!” I spun around in the hallway of my house trying to figure out who was talking to me. “Jed, can I talk to you?”

The last six hours in the car were cramped and awkward. Cramped because Frank decided to bring Amir along and that meant four people had to sit in the back seat. Awkward because Frank made me sit on Jett’s lap and not only was Jett still peeved that I threw him in the deep end with Leah but I managed to fall asleep and drool on him all the way home.

So it was a no welcomed surprise to see D’Angelo’s mother, Pamela, sitting at the dining room table eating dinner. She wasn’t alone either. Leila and Helena sat alongside Butch, Steve and Brien.

“I’m going to put your stuff upstairs,” Jett whizzed by me with the luggage I can’t carry myself and ignored the tense scene.

“Are these your brothers?” Amir took off his jacket and hung it beside the already full rack.

Steve sized up Amir’s impressive frame and height, “Who are you?”

Never have I been more glad that we dropped Leah off first. I get the feeling she’d be chiming in right about now, adding another layer of shit to the already towering mess careening towards the metaphorical “fan”.

“His name is Amir,” Frank stepped in beside Amir and glared at his brothers. “Back off.”

“Jed,” Pamela got up from the table.

“Don’t,” I pointed at her with my good hand. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Mood for what?” Butch asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat while he chewed his food.

“I just wanted to apologize.” Pamela continued her short journey around the other side of the table and I turned to run but D stopped me.

“We should talk in private.” He glared at his mother, every bit of his frowning face and heavy stare were cringe-worthy.

“Okay, here we go again.” Butch turned back to this plate of food and commenced shoveling the pasta and bread down his cake-hole once more.

“Come eat,” Brien waved Frank and Amir over. “There’s more than enough for everyone.”

“Go sit,” Frank nudged him toward the table as Jett came down tromping down the stairs, “I need to give Jett a ride back.”

“Hey,” I grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry for irritating Leah.”

“It’s fine,” Jett removed my hand and rolled down his long sleeves when he caught Pamela staring.

“No, it’s not fine,” I followed him to the door.

“Just leave it Jed.” He muttered over his shoulder as he put his coat back on.

I dropped it, but my head started to hurt when I frowned at his back. Jett shoved open the door and let the door slam shut behind him. Frank gave me a sideways look as he squeezed by.

Jett doesn’t get mad easily. He’s like a wet fuse though, if you push him far enough or touch on the wrong subject he will blow. There’s no way that one little jab like that should have made him this upset. Or if it did, I couldn’t figure out why.

Rubbing my aching forehead, I turned around to see Pamela and D staring.

“What?”

“Let’s talk in private,” D nodded for us to follow him down the hall to the TV room, across the kitchen. It was one of the only rooms with a door, I guess that’s going to be as private as it gets.

Once behind a closed door it was D’Angelo who started talking, not his mother.

He took my hand and stared at Pamela, “I’ve already said what I think about the situation, but just in case you forgot I’ll remind you. How I feel about Jed has nothing to do with you and you have no say in our relationship. So word your next sentence very carefully mother or Jed and I will walk out of this room and I will never speak to you again.”