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15
Rylie
My father asksme to meet him for dinner at one of his favorite restaurants, a place he chooses for having private conversations. By asks I mean orders, so I suspect something’s on his mind. Something I’m going to get drilled and grilled over. He seems distant and a little cold when I slide into the booth at his favorite steakhouse.
“Your mother called me again,” he snaps. I know he hates dealing with her, what he calls, nagging.
“And?”
“And she’s insisting you join her in Boston. She wants me to support her decision.”
“It’s not her decision, it’s my life,” I say adamantly. “I’m not a child.”
“You’re still being helped and supported by me – us,” he points out.
“True, but I’ll be passing the bar soon—”
“And she wants you to go and study for the bar exam there. Boston’s a great place and there are lots of opportunities there you won't find here."
“I’m not going,” I say, flat out defying my father for the first time.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been coming to my office a lot more recently,” he tipturns on me, a favorite move to dislodge me.
“Not that I’ve noticed.” I wonder where this is going. My body stiffens, and I prepare myself for another ‘father-knows-best’ lecture.
“I suspect you’ve been sneaking behind my back,” he states as if he’s acting as a commander and not my dad.
“Why do you think that?” I say, stalling.
“So you don’t deny it?”
“Please don’t put words in my mouth.” My nervousness increases. “We’re father, daughter not lawyer and defendant.
“I’m going to ask you straightforwardly, Rylie,” he says coolly. “Are you seeing one of my men against my express wishes?”
“I…” My mouth goes dry, and I can’t finish my sentence. I don’t want to lie, but at the same time, I think I’m entitled to my own life and privacy.
“Rylie?” He stares at me sternly waiting for me to confess.
“Am I on trial here?” I say trying to deflect his glare.
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response. You’re my daughter, and you live in my home. My men have clear instructions that you’re not to be pursued. I won’t put up with their bullcrap. Or yours.”
“It’s not bullcrap if I’m in a serious relationship.”
“That’s it Rylie! You’re getting on that plane. I expressly forbade this kind of thing. How dare you go behind my back?”
I begin to cry. “You’re treating me like I’m one of your privates,” I manage to choke out between bouts of tears.
“Stop crying,” he says. “We’re in a public restaurant.”
I continue to sob into my hands.
“We’ll call your mother after dinner and confirm you’ll be on that flight. Now go wash up before our meals arrive.”
I silently walk to the restroom. My eyes are swollen and red. I look like shit. Washing my face only makes it worse. My father has made it clear that he’s still taking control of my life. I want to stand up to him but if he finds out about Ethan, it’ll ruin their friendship. And worse, affect his career.
None of this is fair. I don’t want to leave Hawaii. I don’t want to live with my mother. I have a job interview for an internship with an environmental non-profit. More than all that, I think I really am in love with Major Hayes. Why does my father have to be so cruel?
