A Look Back: Rennillia Series - Prequel Page 4

  Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “Are you asking me out?”

  Hert gave me a ‘that’s stupid’ look before saying, “Never mind.”

  “Sorry that’s so offensive,” I griped before sharing, “I think Mrs. Roberts is having a dinner for me but after I can figure out a way for us to do something.”

  Sitting back up, he shrugged off my suggestion.

  We spent the rest of the evening in silence. Emerson arrived right on time to get me. Hert stayed in his room when I left. Frustrated there was no winning with him, in the five minutes it took to drive from Hert’s house to mine, I decided he was feeling left out. After Emerson dropped me off, I politely blew off my father’s comments on the evening and went to my room. It was after midnight and even though I knew he would be irritated, I snuck back over to Hert’s and told him happy birthday.

  Chapter 5

  Between school, Emerson’s and sneaking out to see Hert the days past quickly and before I knew it, I was sixteen. My father actually gave me an excellent birthday present by going out of town. He made me a hair appointment before he left of course, which was nice too. My plan was to get up, get my hair done and get ready for dinner at the Roberts’ house before having Emerson drop me at Hert’s.

  Rolling out of bed, I skipped to the kitchen, ready to start my day. To my surprise, there was a small box on the kitchen table next to my plate. Smiling at the box, I sat down and opened it. My eyes instantly welled up with tears when I saw what was inside. It was a thin gold bracelet with tiny emeralds staggered around it.

  Sitting at the table with me, my mother shared, “It was your Grandma Nillia’s.”

  Smiling up at her, I replied, “I remember,” before saying, “Thank you.”

  With a slight nod she said, “Hurry up now, you don’t want to be late for your appointment.”

  I ran my finger down the bracelet before sliding it out of the box and clasping it around my wrist. I couldn’t believe it was mine. It was the only thing I remembered about my grandmother aside from being named after her.

  After a trip into town to get my hair done, I stood in front of the mirror in my room. Looking at my reflection, I smiled at the pink dress I was wearing before lifting my wrist and watching my bracelet sparkle as it slid against my arm. Wondering if my mother knew how truly important her gift was to me, I decided to thank her again.

  Walking into the kitchen, I sat down next to her saying, “Mom, this is the best present ever.”

  I noticed her eyes start to water before she nodded, stood up and walked to her room. Thinking to myself, ‘well then, ok,’ I got up from the table and headed to the front door. Deciding to wait for Emerson outside, I leaned against my front door.

  Emerson arrived right on time as always. Looking sharp in his suit jacket and slacks, he opened the passenger side door, waiting for me get in. Smiling, I walked to his car.

  “Happy Birthday Ren,” he greeted as I slid into his car.

  Shaking my head at the moment, I offered, “You look really nice.”

  “So do you,” he shared, getting back into the car.

  Reaching over, he held my hand, asking, “Is Hert coming?”

  I shook my head, saying, “We’re going somewhere later tonight.”

  With a serious expression, Emerson asked, “Aren’t you worried you will get in trouble?”

  With a slight laugh, I assured, “I either will or I won’t, that’s not something I worry about.”

  “I worry about it,” he sighed.

  Letting go of his hand, I turned to face him saying, “Look it’s not like I’m sneaking out to do wrong. Hert has been my friend for the last sixteen years and it’s not fair that my father woke up one morning and decided we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”

  Apologetic, Emerson said, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

  “You didn’t,” I snapped, before quickly changing the subject by asking, “So is your girlfriend coming to dinner?”

  Shaking his head, Emerson informed, “She broke up with me last night.”

  Pouting on his behalf, I sighed, “Auh,” then shared, “For the record, I never liked her, you can do way better.”

  “Thank you and I know,” Emerson replied.

  Wondering if he said ‘I know’ to he could do better or that I never liked her, I started to laugh.

  After giving me a few strange looks, he focused on the road. Sure he thought I was crazy, I couldn’t help myself. The thought of Emerson thinking he could do better was so unlike him, I found it funny. I meant what I said though, I couldn’t stand her and he could do better. He was so thoughtful and considerate of other people it seemed like he never really thought about himself.

  “Got your eye on anyone new?” I asked as we arrived at his house and pulled around back.

  Appearing flustered, he stated, “We just broke up.”

  Unhappy with the idea of him actually missing her, I coaxed, “Oh come on!”

  Shrugging slightly, Emerson admitted, “There is this girl. I’m not sure she feels that way about me.”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” I questioned before assuring, “You’re sweet, thoughtful, and incredibly handsome!”

  Smiling at me, he asked, “You think so?”

  Nodding vigorously, I confirmed, “Yes I do.”

  With a soft smile he questioned, “So?”

  I gave him a quick hug, saying, “So maybe she doesn’t realize how great you are. You need to exercise some of that Roberts charm and win her over because any girl would be lucky to have you.”

  With a slight nod he opened the back door and we walked into the kitchen.

  Sitting at the Roberts’ massive dining room table, I quietly ate. Mr. Roberts was seated at the head with Mrs. Roberts on his right and Emerson and I to his left. After birthday wishes and a few uncomfortable questions concerning my plans for the future, I appreciated the silence.

  Then out of nowhere, Mrs. Roberts asked, “Your friend could not make it to dinner?”

  Caught off guard, I blurted, “Ma’am?”

  “Emerson said you were bringing a friend,” she explained.

  Wishing Hert would have come, I said, “Oh, no ma’am he couldn’t make it.”

  Giving me a suspicious look, she questioned, “He?”

  I gave her a polite nod before answering, “Yes ma’am, I wanted Hert…Scott Herterand to come, but…” before she cut me off, saying, “I was not aware the two of you were close.”

  Wondering if she had a problem with Hert, I recalled Emerson saying his parents had discussed Hert’s family.

  Feeling the need to defend my friend, I was careful with my tone as I stated, “I have been friends with him my whole life.”

  To my surprise, Mr. Roberts chimed in, saying, “I am sure if he is a friend of Rennillia’s he is a fine young man,” as I slowly smiled at him, he offered, “He will be welcome here anytime,” in a firm tone.

  Keeping her tone short, Mrs. Roberts replied, “I was not implying otherwise.”

  As Mr. and Mrs. Roberts stared at each other, I wondered if I had just witnessed an argument between the two of them. Since they were so polite, it was hard to tell. Arguments at my house were nothing like this.

  Dinner was over and Mr. and Mrs. Roberts wished me a happy birthday for the second time before heading upstairs. Sitting on the living room couch with Emerson, I couldn’t help feeling a little sad. As nice as Mrs. Roberts was to me, it was very clear she wasn’t fond of Hert. I knew his father was horrible but that wasn’t his fault.

  Deciding to question Emerson about it, I asked, “Your mother doesn’t like Hert?”

  Giving me a confused expression, he replied, “I think she was expecting a girl when I told her you were bringing a friend.”

  “Oh,” I sighed, feeling a little better.

  Emerson placed his arm around my shoulders, saying, “Thank you for spending your birthday with me.”

  Leaning the side of my head onto his shoulder, I looke
d up at him and declared, “I really like hanging out with you.”

  His brown eyes were soft as he gazed at me, asking, “Really?”

  Nodding with a smile, I shared, “I’m glad we’re friends.”

  Nodding back, Emerson kissed my forehead, saying, “Me too.”

  Sitting with Emerson was comforting. There was something about being close to him that made me for lack of a better word, sleepy. Emerson was like the comforter on my bed that I curled up in when I was upset. Thoughts of being able to curl up with him made me wish he could stay the night with me. Thinking about how I could make that happen, I noticed it was getting late.

  Hert was waiting on the curb in front of his house in his mother’s car when Emerson and I pulled up. Patting his shoulder, I gave Emerson a smile before hopping out of the car. Giving him a little wave as he pulled away, I hoped I hadn’t hurt his feelings by not letting him open my door.

  “Well, I’m yours for the rest of the night,” I laughed, smiling wide at Hert as I slid in on the passenger side.

  Hert smiled back at first then narrowed his eyes, asking, “Why are you dressed like that?”

  Making a face at him, I snapped, “Some people think I look nice.”

  “I didn’t say you didn’t look nice, I asked why you were dressed like that,” he snapped back.

  “It is my birthday, some people think that sorta thing is special,” I replied.

  Glaring at me, he questioned, “Since when do you dress up for your birthday?”

  With a slight smirk, I answered, “Didn’t you know? I’m a lovely young lady.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Hert laughed, “Yea, and I’m a gentleman.”

  As Hert and I laughed at each other, we headed out to the pond.

  At the pond, we threw rocks in the water and a few at each other before sitting down on a blanket. Thinking of all the times he and I had been out here, I realized this was the first time it was just us. Giving Hert a little shove, I smiled when he shoved me back.

  Without looking at me, Hert quietly asked, “Are you going out with Roberts?”

  Shocked, I blurted, “No!”

  Giving me an unpleasant expression, he questioned, “Then why are you spending so much time with him?”

  Shrugging, I answered, “We’re friends.”

  He shook his head at me, saying, “Yea, right now.”

  Suddenly infuriated, I snapped, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You think Roberts wants you as a friend?” he fussed.

  Raising my voice, I replied, “Yea, and you think you know everything but you don’t.”

  Turning to face me, Hert griped, “And you’re stupid if you think Roberts just wants to be friends.”

  Shrinking back a little, I felt stupid. Not because of Emerson, I did believe we were really friends, because Hert had a way of making me feel bad.

  I laid back thinking Hert should have come with me to Emerson’s, then he would see. Was it really so strange for someone like Emerson to want to be friends with me? I had only known him for a little while but I could tell he needed a real friend. His parents were hardly home, his stupid now ex-girlfriend was so fake and all anyone else seemed to care about was that he was a ‘Roberts’. As I looked up at Hert I noticed his frustrated expression as he stared down at me.

  “I wish you were more like Emerson,” I shared before closing my eyes.

  A long moment passed before I opened my eyes and heard him say, “We’re not little kids anymore Renni, you don’t have to be here with me if that’s not what you want.”

  With a loud sigh, I shared, “You’re such an ass.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” he blurted.

  As Hert seemingly ignored my comment on his greatest personality trait, he jumped up and walked to the car. He came back carrying a small styrofoam container. Sitting up, I watched him place it in front of me.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  With a slight smile, he replied, “Open it.”

  I opened the container and found a little square of tiramisu.

  Smiling at my cake first and then Hert, I said, “Thank you.”

  Hert nodded and handed me a plastic fork saying, “I hope it’s still good, I picked it up this afternoon.”

  “You wanna share?” I asked holding it between us.

  He nodded and I used the fork to cut the cake in half.

  As we scooped up our halves, I raised mine saying, “Sixteen down, two to go.”

  Hert gave a slight nod before touching his piece of cake to mine.

  Chapter 6

  After my birthday, Hert agreed to come to Emerson’s with me. Hert and Emerson were so different but together, they seemed to balance each other out. Of course, Mr. Roberts liked Hert. He stood up tall and used the word sir a lot. Mrs. Roberts on the other hand, gave the impression she was tolerating his presence in her house but was still very polite to him. I didn’t care because it was like having the best of both worlds, and the best part was, I didn’t have to sneak around to see Hert anymore. The three of us were always together before school, after school and on the weekends. When summer came it was even better. I was hardly at home, which was a big plus for me. My Father was happy I was at the Roberts’ and I was happy to spend all day everyday with Hert and Emerson.

  When our junior year started, Emerson picked me up every morning before we swung by Hert’s to get him. Emerson had a new girlfriend and Hert still saw Carmella but aside from that, they were mine. Everything seemed perfect and I couldn’t imagine my life being better. Even my father seemed content. It was possible seeing him as little as possible was the reason. However, his latest investment seemed to be behind his better mood. My Father even bought me a little car. He surprised me with it one day after school, with the condition of to school and back home of course. Things were going so good, I stopped counting the days until I turned eighteen and just enjoyed myself. Until the night I woke up hearing my father yelling.

  Unsure of what was happening, I rolled out of bed and crept into the kitchen. My mother was sitting at the kitchen table crying and my father was shouting and cursing in Italian. I wasn’t fluent in any foreign language but I could pick out the words ‘off limits’ and ‘forbidden’. As I tried to listen without being involved, my father noticed me. Before I could make it back to my room, I heard him call me.

  “Rennillia!” he hollered.

  Slowly walking towards, him I whispered, “Sir?”

  “I told you! Didn’t I? I warned you!” he shouted.

  Confused, I shook my head at him.

  “That bastard and his whore mother… they killed him!” he informed.

  “What?” I blurted, unable to understand what had happened.

  Suddenly, my father grabbed my face.

  So close I could feel his breath on my cheek, he growled, “I catch you anywhere near them and I’ll beat you ‘til you can’t see straight.”

  My father’s threat provoked me to jerk away, spouting, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

  At first he raised his hand then to my surprise quickly turned and stormed off to his room.

  Looking up from the table my mother wiped her eyes and explained, “They found Charles dead in his motel room,” stunned I shook my head at her as she finished, saying, “He drank himself to death.”

  Not knowing what to do, I ran to my room.

  Pacing back and forth, I wanted to go see Hert. I wondered if he knew and if he did, did he even care? I was so mad at my father. Hert’s father was so horrible when he was alive and now that he was gone, Hert and his mother were still getting blamed. Finally, I locked my door and decided to just go see if Hert was ok. Throwing on jeans and a t-shirt, I climbed out of my window and ran to Hert’s house.

  Peering in his window, I didn’t see him. Thinking I would just wait, I slid his window open and climbed in.

  As I sat on the edge of his bed, I heard Mrs. Herterand cry out, “It’s all my fault!” />
  Then Hert yelled, “Stop saying that!”

  Guessing I caught the end of their conversation, I jumped a little when his door swung open.

  I could tell he was angry as he slammed his door and fussed, “Go home.”

  “Hert I just…” I started before he snapped, “I don’t care, go home!”

  Feeling panicked, I tried, “Please, I heard what happened.”

  “I don’t give a damn, get out!” he yelled.

  Refusing to believe he really didn’t want me there, I stood up and said, “Look at me,” as I reached out to him.

  Grabbing my shoulders, Hert leaned close and ordered, “Get the hell out!” through his gritted teeth.

  Shrugging his hands off of me, I slapped him, saying, “Stop it.”

  Shaking his head at me, he said, “I don’t want you here.”

  His words were worse than if he had slapped me back. Nodding at him, I turned and went home. I didn’t bother to change back into my pajamas. I just curled up in my comforter and laid there feeling sad.

  Only a few hours passed before I could hear my father yelling again. Covering my head with my pillow, I sighed when my door knob started to turn.

  “Why is this door locked?” I heard him shout.

  Swiftly jumping up and unlocking it, I lied, “I was changing.”

  My father narrowed his eyes at me, he knew I was lying but what could he say, I had jeans and a t-shirt on.

  “No school for the rest of the week,” he stated.

  Ordinarily that would have been a happy thought, but since it meant no Hert or Emerson, I argued, “Why not?”

  “Just do what you’re told,” he snapped.

  Holding my head high, I stated, “No.”

  My father’s eyes were wild with fury as he shoved me back shouting, “You are gonna know your place!”

  Before I could do or say anything else, he kicked my leg out from underneath me. I fell to the floor. Covering my face with my arms, I thought of that first night at the Roberts’ when Emerson hugged me, as my father did everything in his power to make me ‘know my place’.

  Chapter 7

  As it turned out, I welcomed missing the next few days of school. Who would have thought my little hairbrush could cause such damage? When used as a tool of instruction, however, it left purplish blue splotches all over my body. Preparing myself for Mr. Herterand’s funeral, I dressed in grey slacks and a long black sweater, before heading out of my room. I slowly made my way to the kitchen. My father did not apologize for overreacting when I told him no, but he did have my mother bring me breakfast, lunch and dinner to my room over the last two days, which was his way of admitting his latest attempt to correct my behavior was a little uncalled for. In a way, I understood. He was upset his friend had died and to be fair, I did sneak over to Hert’s whether he knew it or not.