~Chapter Sixteen~
Yeah, how's about one conversation with nothing else left to be had,
(Oh, is this) your young long lost son, and he's never had dear old dad
~Pear Jam, My Father's Son~
"Damon, I hate to interrupt, but I need you to run some errands. And before you say anything, no your brother can't go—he's busy." Mr. Salvatore says after I've rolled the window down.
I knew Giuseppe Salvatore was indifferent to most of Damon's antics, but I hadn't known the exact level of coldness he treated his eldest son with. I see it now and I'm beginning to understand why Damon doesn't respect his father. The older man's eyes are the same mesmerizing shade of blue as Damon's, but they are flat… displaying no sign of emotion. His face is lined with creases, making him seem a lot older than he actually is. He looks like the kind of guy who may have been happy at one time, but has completely forgotten what that actually feel like.
"I'm kind of in the middle of something, dad." The frustration Damon is exhibiting is palpable. I can cut the tension in the air with a knife.
I throw Damon an encouraging smile, nudging him in the arm. I hope he receives the message I am trying to send: we should probably tell him now. Let's get this over with.
He glances back at me and rolls his eyes. "As much as I'd love to run around the town square and pick up the things you are fully capable of getting yourself… we actually need to talk with you."
"We?"
Damon grabs my hand. "Yup. Hey, at least your hearing is still good old man. No hearing aides yet."
"What could you and… your new girlfriend possibly need to talk to me about." I don't miss the note of disdain in his voice.
I try to give Mr. Salvatore a warm smile. "It really is important, sir—and I'm not his girlfriend. Just a good friend."
"Wow, Damon you could learn a thing or two from this one. Much more polite than the last girl you chose to waste your time with." He turns around and throws a look over his shoulder. "You can follow me… and Miss—"
"Bennett," I supply. "Bonnie Bennett."
"With that display of affection, I'd say you are my son's girlfriend."
"Noted." I say, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.
When Mr. Salvatore reaches the front porch, Damon shoots me a look that says: good going, in a way that certainly doesn't mean good going. "You shouldn't have said that."
"Said what?"
"That you weren't my girlfriend." When I raise my eyebrows questioningly, he elaborates. "The old guy is traditional. He's not going to like that I'm making out with a friend, who just so happens to be the mother of my child."
"Well… he didn't believe me."
"… It's still a nail in our coffin."
"I'm sorry."
Signature Damon smirk. "Don't be. He likes you—way better than he likes me." He pauses, eyes wandering over my whole body. "You might want to put this on." He hands me his jacket.
I suddenly feel very self-conscious. "It's that noticeable?"
"It's not a bad thing. You still look like you, but we should just cover our bases… don't want him to suspect anything before I can tell him."
"Before we tell him."
"Look, I appreciate the back-up, but he's going to blame one of us and it won't be you." I don't like the sadness I see in Damon's eyes but I can't think of anything to say that will fix it, so I just tighten my grip on his hand.
We get out of the car. Damon helps me put his coat on.I try to walk as slowly as I can because it feels like we have committed some abhorrent crime and we are headed to the guillotine. As we are standing at the door, I get the impression we are about to enter the lion's den.
The inside of the house is just as fancy as the outside. The first thing I notice when I enter the living room is a huge photograph of the Salvatore family when Damon and Stefan were very young. Stefan had been just a baby, Damon an unsurprisingly cute toddler. Their mother is absolutely beautiful. Long, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked happy and so did Mr. Salvatore.
The furniture in the living room looked very expensive. A white leather sectional sits in the middle of the room, accompanied by a matching ottoman. In front of the couch is a large cherrywood coffee table with various lifestyles books neatly stacked upon it. Mounted on the wall is the biggest flat screen television I've ever seen. Underneath that, there is an ornate fireplace made of marble and cherrywood.
I'm wondering what it must have been like to grow up with everything you could possibly want but to not have any guidance or warmth when Mr. Salvatore clears his throat. "So what is it that you want to discuss—it must be a life-or-death situation for you to refuse going to the grocery store?"
"I got Bonnie pregnant." Damon says casually. I hadn't expected him to rip the band-aid off so quickly.
"I see." Mr. Salvatore says. His face doesn't betray him. I can't tell if he's mad, sad, or disappointed. "And you must want money to…take care of it."
"Nope." Damon says and he sounds positively gleeful.
"No?" His father is incredulous.
"We are keeping her."
"Her?"
"Congrats Grandpa! You have a granddaughter!" Damon's delight is nerve-wracking.
That's when Giuseppe shows a reaction. Shock. Pure, unadulterated shock. "You've got to be joking, Damon. That's the most irresponsible, idiotic thing I've ever heard you suggest."
I collapse on the sofa. And I sit there silently. Just thinking. This conversation is very similar to the one I had with my own father. Who has only just recently stopped looking at me like I sold his kidney on the black market. I realize just how lucky I am to have my mother, who has done everything in her power to guide me through the mess I've made of my life. I don't want my daughter to feel as though she's a mistake, which she will if she has to spend any time with her paternal grandfather.
"Okay, Damon. This has gone on long enough. You can say 'gotcha' now."
"No can do. This is real and it's happening, whether you like it or not."
"Why?" Giuseppe is aghast. "You'd be throwing your life away—not that you had much to look forward to."
I flinch. That jab was brutal.
"See that's exactly it—I do have something to look forward to now. And I'm not going to fuck up my kid's life the way you did ours!"
"How very… valiant of you, son. Unfortunately, you are going to have to do that without any help from me."
Damon folds his arms across his chest. "I don't want or need your help."
"Yes, we shall see about that. When that…child… is born. You can pack your things and leave."
Mr. Salvatore shakes his head. "The only reason I'm not doing it now is in honor of your mother, who would be extremely ashamed of this disgrace."
And then his father goes into the foyer. I can hear his footsteps on the large spiral staircase. And then a door slams, making me jump. Damon approaches me and sits down next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder. I lean in to him and take a deep breath. I'm comforted by his smell, a mixture of soap and fabric softener. It's not enough, though. Listening to that exchange had been terrible and I feel guilty for not truly understanding the magnitude of Giuseppe's rigidity.
"I'm sorry," I say after a moment. "Your dad sucks."
Damon snorts. "And that went better than I expected."
"Uh… that's… nice to hear—I guess." I hesitate, unsure of how to articulate my next thought. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to get you thrown out."
"You didn't. It would have happened sooner or later. He was just waiting for the right moment to do it."
"Still—"
"We need to come up with a plan. A good one. Like the most awesome plan in the history of awesome plans."
"I'm going to get a job. Over the break. So I can have some money saved up."
"… I should do that, too. Do you think that Mystic Falls has any openings for a male model?"
I roll my eyes. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."
"You just did." Damon points out. "I guess we really ought to figure out where we will live."
"We—as in, you and I together? Under the same roof?"
He ponders this for a bit. "I guess you're right—you'd probably be a pain in the ass to live with. Maybe I should get a bachelor pad or something."
"I don't think so!" I say quickly, a little too quickly.
Damon smiles like the Cheshire Cat. "Aww, is my little Bon Bon worried about other women?"
I frown, pulling my legs onto the couch, tucking them under me. "No."
"Sounds a little like a yes to me. But hey, you were the one who said you weren't my girlfriend. I mean, you had the perfect opportunity to stake your claim."
"Did you want me to?" I look up at him expectantly.
"Maybe…"
"Well, then maybe you should ask me on a proper date."
"I don't really go on 'dates.'" He puts air quotes around the last word.
"You are so difficult." I say, sitting up. "It's easy. Damon will you go on a date with me?"
"Well, since you seem so excited about it, sure. I'll humor you. We can go on a date."
"You'll humor me?"
"Uh huh."
"I'll humor you!"
"You are the one who asked me out." He reminds me. "Silly, Bon Bon. It looks like your hormones are going to your brain." He pats the crown of my head.
"Whatever, Salvatore! Just be at my house tomorrow. Seven o clock—don't be late."
"I wouldn't dare."
I push his hand off my head and prepare to leave. I take the jacket off and hand it to him. "Bye, Damon."
"See ya tomorrow!"
I have spent a total of two hours trying to find something to wear. I'm not proud of it, but I can admit that I want to look perfect. I want to impress Damon. I almost can't wrap my head around the concept.
I survey my bedroom. The entirety of my closet has exploded on my bed. Caroline barely has any room to sit there and Elena has moved over to my desk chair. The dresses that don't fit me anymore have been thrown in a discard pile on the floor. The ones that could be passable are on the floor in front of my bed. There aren't nearly as many in this category, but they still cover the plush, white throw rug under my bed.
"This is useless!" I throw my hands up in exasperation. "I look like a whale!"
"Bonnie, you do not look like a whale." Care says.
Elena smiles at me sympathetically. "You look great in that."
I look at myself in the mirror. My long, black hair is straightened and a piece in the front is pinned to the side by an ornate silver hair clip. A billowy green dress is draped over my body. It stops about half an inch above my knees. It has long bell sleeves, which was the reason I purchased it in the first place. The torso is a little tight, but not unbearably so.
"I guess this works," I go over to my bed and begin to collect the mountain of clothes I threw there. I place each garment on a hanger and lug them back to my closet.
Elena scoots over to me in the desk chair. Once my hands are free she takes them in hers. "Everything is going to go perfectly, Bon. I know because I've never seen Damon this invested in… well, quite literally anything. Even Stefan agrees."
I see conflict in her eyes, but she does her best to keep it at bay. "Thanks, Elena. I really appreciate it."
Caroline hops off my bed and pulls the both of us in a hug. "I'm so glad you guys worked things out!"
"Me too."
"Me three."
And then the doorbell rings.
I hurry over to the only pair of shoes that fit—you know, besides my moccasins and even they were starting to feel small. I run over to the door. Originally, I wanted to be downstairs and ready to go as soon as his car pulled up. I thought it would be best to minimize the amount of contact Damon had with my father, but I could already hear the front door opening. I open my bedroom door slightly, hoping to hear their interaction better.
"Hello, Mr. Bennett. I'm Damon Salvatore and I'm here to take Bonnie out."
Wow, a polite introduction. Maybe miracles
do happen.
"I know who you are." Never mind.
Awkward silence.
"I apologize for everything that's happened…sir." The words sound foreign coming from Damon.
"Uh huh." My father grunts skeptically. "We will see about that. I certainly hope you guys are going to have a very frank discussion about everything. For some unknown reason my daughter wants to become a mother at eighteen. And—against my advice—she insists that she can do everything she originally planned on. You better help her do that, son."
"I don't intend on letting her down." I can hear the sincerity in his voice. "Your daughter is special and I only wish I realized it earlier."
On that note, I leave my bedroom and head down the steps.
"Damon." I give him a slight nod.
"Bonnie." He holds his arm out. "Are you ready to go?"
I smile. "I am. Let's go."
