Marcus’ Story…

“Oh man!  Monty’s ribs?” Marcus asked with Antonio right behind him.  “What’s the occasion?”

Jemma Alfieri smacked two teenage male hands when they reached for a small piece of the juicy meat.  “First of all, don’t even try it!” she warned with a glare that told her two youngest sons that she meant business.  “You have to wait for dinner before diving into those.  And secondly, Davis is coming home from school today so you’re going to behave until he gets here.”

“That’s cool,” Marcus said.  He looked outside and his eyes widened.  “Um…we’d better get to our homework.  Call us when Davis gets home.”  He nudged his younger brother Antonio, who was already aware that something was off – both of them hurried away.

Jemma watched her two youngest race out of the room, instantly understanding that something was wrong She looked at the house, then at the fridge.  Nothing seemed out of place.  Assuming she was imagining things, but knowing she wasn’t, she moved across the room and finished setting things out.

A few minutes later, the front door opened.  “Mom!” Davis called out.

Marcus and Antonio raced down the stairs, tackling their older brother before Jemma could even reach the front door to protect him.  Not that Davis needed protecting.  All of her boys were over six feet tall and athletic, more than capable of protecting themselves.

“Go wash up for dinner,” she told the two younger boys, while she gave Davis a gentle kiss and a hug.  “Davis, put your bag in your room and come on downstairs.  I want to hear all about your classes.”

Davis was a sophomore in college, while Marcus was a senior in high school and Antonio was a sophomore.  Marcus had taken on the role of star football player, just as his two older brothers had done in their high school days, and just like his younger brother Antonio would likely do as well.

Jemma’s husband Damien came home just as they were about to sit down to dinner and Jemma immediately jumped up to greet him in the foyer.  The three boys remained seated, trying not to gag as they heard kissing sounds and gentle laughter.  Although their parents had been married over twenty years, they were still very much in love and it was weird to see them acting all mushy.

When Damien walked into the room, Davis stood up and hugged his dad, safe now from parental PDAs.  “Hey Dad,” Davis said, receiving a strong handshake that led to a manly hug with strong pats on backs.

They all sat down again and Marcus cringed when his mother changed chairs.  He’d purposely had her sitting in a very specific spot.  He glanced out the window, hoping she would be too caught up in Davis’ return to notice anything amiss in her garden.

“Honey, what did you do to your roses?” his father said, almost immediately.

Jemma looked outside and gasped.  “My roses!” she almost cried.  “Oh no!”

Davis also looked through the window, not sure what was going on.  “Where are all the flowers?” Davis asked, then clamped his mouth closed when he caught Marcus reaching for a biscuit.

Jemma turned back to her boys, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out what had happened. It was so much easier now with only the two of them.

Since Antonio was still looking outside while Marcus was munching away, she knew exactly who the culprit was.

“Marcus, where are all of my roses?” she asked, taking a sip of her wine.

Marcus shook his head.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about Mom.  They were there yesterday.”

Jemma leaned back in her chair, contemplating her son.  “Marcus, if you don’t tell me what happened to my roses, I’m going to take that baby picture of you – the one where you’re lying in the middle of my bed with just a grin and your adorable little butt bare to the world – and I’m going to buy space in this year’s yearbook and tell the whole world what an adorable baby you were.”  Yep, after years with her children, she knew what threats were effective.

Marcus immediately stopped chewing and looked at her with horror.  “You wouldn’t,” he said, praying he was right.

The look in her eyes told him that it wasn’t an idle threat.  “You know I will,” she told him.  She’d done similar embarrassing things when her children acted inappropriately.  She knew it was pointless to ground them, because they were full of energy and keeping them locked in the house only drove her nuts.  She couldn’t send them to their rooms, because they were all wickedly smart.  They’d just dream up some sort of chaos that she’d have to deal with.  Chores – unless they were really creative – could be pointless as well because they were so strong, they finished them too quickly.

No, embarrassment was her best tool and she used it quite successfully.

Marcus swallowed the biscuit that was now as dry as sawdust in his mouth.  “Well, see, here’s how it went down, Mom,” he started to explain.

Jemma leaned forward, propping her chin on her hands while she waited for the explanation.  She ignored Damien at the other end of the table who chuckled at her subtle means of interrogation.  “I’m listening,” she prompted.

“Well, see, Jennifer Marlow is new in school and she’s really…” he started to say “hot” but his mother’s eyebrows went up quickly, so he changed the word to “beautiful.”

“And you needed to slaughter my roses because of her loveliness?”

Marcus grinned, impressed despite himself.  “Well, yeah,” he said, relieved that she understood.  “She’s really gorgeous and I had to impress her somehow.”

“And you couldn’t do it with your obnoxious charm?” Davis teased, trying hard to smother his laughter.

Marcus wasn’t appreciating his brother’s contribution to this conversation.

“Shut up,” he snapped, then turned back to his mother who was still waiting.  “You know your roses are the best.  And it was her birthday yesterday.”

“So I gave the prettiest girl in school a bunch of my prized roses.  How thoughtful of me,” she said.  “I think I’ll just call her up and see how those roses are doing.”

Marcus quickly shook his head.  “Um…she loved them,” he said with a panicked look in his eyes.

Jemma looked carefully at her son, recognizing there was more.

“How do you know?”

Marcus cringed.  “Well, she’s going with me to the homecoming dance,” he told her.

Jemma stared at her son.  She was trying very hard to pretend to be mad but it was hard when he was looking so completely adorable.  Her boys were certainly cute, despite their size and testosterone-fueled shenanigans.

She looked across the table and noticed her husband just sitting in his chair, trying to hide his amusement behind his wine glass.

“Well, if that’s the case, then let’s eat.”

Marcus looked at his mother warily.  She wasn’t going to get angry and levy some sort of punishment?  No mucking out the horse stalls or washing all the windows?  Something wasn’t right, he thought.

Antonio and Davis dug into the savory ribs but Marcus just nibbled tentatively, not sure what was going on.  Maybe she was saving the announcement of his punishment until later, he thought.  Or maybe she was going to…damn, he had no idea what was going on in his mother’s mind.  He decided to sneak into his Dad’s office, intending to take that baby picture and hide it.  Maybe even destroy it.

But when he opened the door later that evening, poking his nose inside, he saw that his Mom was already sitting on his Dad’s lap.  “Looking for this?” she asked, lifting the picture in question.

Marcus stood in his father’s office, swallowing hard.  “Um…you’re not really going to publish that, are you?” he asked worriedly.

Jemma smiled, looking down at the picture.  “Go finish your homework,” she said, ignoring her husband’s hand as it snuck up her back under her shirt.

Marcus continued to stand there, not sure what to do.  “Mom?” he asked.

“Yes dear?” Jemma looked up, not smiling when she saw how nervous he was.  Oh yes.  This was much better punishment, she realized.  Not knowing what his mother was going to do was going to drive Marcus more than a little crazy.  Just what he needed, she thought.  The boy/man was just too smart.  This little unknown would haunt him for a while.  And she didn’t need to do a thing!

Juliette’s story….

“What’s she going to do?” Kimberly asked, leaning closer to Juliette.  The lunch room was filled with high school students moving about, flirting, studying.  Some were trying to be noticed and others were desperately attempting to blend into the white, cinderblock walls.

“She’s going to turn him down flat,” Juliette said then took a bite of her apple.  “Watch.  Here he goes.”  The two girls waited and watched as a good looking boy walked up to the blond girl.  “Not going to happen,” Juliette said with absolute conviction.

The boy sat down.  The girl smiled.  The two seemed to be in sync with each other but….

The blond shook her head and the boy walked away, deflated and less confident than before.

“Why?” Kimberly asked, astonished that someone like Jimmy Roberts would be rejected by any girl.  “I mean, he’s got the hair, the shoulders, the bad boy looks.  Why wouldn’t she go out with him?”

Juliette shrugged.  “Because she lives over on Westland Street and he lives off of Cumberland Road.”

Kimberly preferred to believe that love could overcome all obstacles.  “Yes but, he’s gorgeous.”

Juliette ignored her apple, preferring her ham and cheese sandwich even though her mother insisted on the icky, whole wheat bread.  “Yeah, well, she’s wrong,” she told Kimberly.  “And she’s also not a very nice person.”  Juliette continued to watch the other occupants of the lunch room, fascinated by the way people interacted with each other.

“Now who are you watching?” Kimberly asked.

Juliette shrugged her shoulders.  “No one in particular.  But did you know that Terrance and Rachel like each other?” she asked.

Kimberly munched on a potato chip. “No they don’t!”

Juliette pointed to the left.  “Yes they do.  Watch.”  Sure enough, Terrance glanced over at Rachel’s table.  Not long after, the two of them glanced at each other, then blushed as they quickly looked away.

“Wow!” Kimberly whispered.  “You’re like the Sherlock Holmes of the lunch room,” she teased.

Juliette rolled her eyes.  “It’s just interesting,” she replied, wondering why others didn’t pick up on the same cues.

Learn more about Her Tender Tyrant, book one of three in The Alfieri Saga