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“Well, in this case, it was mostly my fault. Dad can be a jerk to everyone—”
“Oh, Parker, honey, I never realized you had such a gift of understatement,” Ida Sue sasses. “Or is that bullshitting?”
“Yeah, okay, but when Dad gets really upset, Mike is always his target. Tonight, he was in rare form and that’s my fault,” Parker responds and he’s clearly uncomfortable.
“Why is it your fault that your father was upset?”
I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t care and I don’t, not really. It’s a morbid curiosity. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with Mike. He’s none of my business.
“Because I told Dad that I agreed to being let go and sent back to the minors. Dad didn’t take the news so well,” Parker mutters. I could almost feel sorry for him, but I notice he passes the bus stop up.
“Wait! I told you to let me off at the bus stop,” I cry.
“Not happening,” he argues, and my expression deadpans, my eyes going wide because apparently Parker and Mike both refuse to take no for an answer.
“It will take an hour to get to my place and it’s not in the best of neighborhoods,” I tell him, completely glossing over the fact that living in the slums is probably better than where I’m at right now.
“I’ve nowhere to go,” he counters.
“Me either,” Ida Sue announces. “And I do like a good drive in the evenings. Clears your head, don’t you agree, Violet?”
“I never really thought about it,” I murmur. “I live in the industrial district of Black Mountain,” I tell him, once we get close to the ramp onto the freeway. I figure that will be enough to make him turn around. Instead, he flips on his turn signal. I sigh out in defeat. I even do it kind of loudly. I see Parker’s lips tip upwards. I’m sure most girls would find that hot.
To me it’s annoying.
“I thought Mike said you just got hurt. It’s not like that’s your fault. Why would your dad be upset?”
“Dad doesn’t really need a reason to be upset, Violet,” Parker responds, wryly.
“Your dad is an idiot,” Ida Sue growls under her breath. I don’t say it, but I completely agree with her.
“Ida Sue—”
“We can’t really argue on this one, Parker. Your dad has about as much sense as God gave a goose, and I’m pretty sure we’re shortchanging the goose.”
“I wish I could argue,” Parker says quietly, and I exhale. I will not feel sorry for Parker or Mike. Their father probably makes more than I’ll see in my lifetime. It’s not like they’ve cornered the markets on bad parents. I could tell them both horror stories—not that I ever would.
“Why did they send you back to the Niners? Wouldn’t they just give you time to heal?”
“The minors,” Parker laughs. “Do you know anything about baseball?”
“Not really, it’s not my thing. It’s kind of boring; I mean, you hit a ball and run in a circle while spitting and stuff. It’s not something I enjoy watching.”
I hear Ida Sue laughing.
“I don’t spit,” Parker mutters.
“Violet, honey, how old are you?”
“Ida Sue, stop,” Parker warns.
“What?” she asks, sounding entirely too innocent. “It’s a simple question. I was just asking.”
“I’ll be nineteen next month,” I tell her without thinking. I’m staring off into space, wishing today was over.
“Nineteen?” Parker asks, sounding surprised.
“I knew it! You look older, Violet. That’s not a bad thing at your age. You only worry about it when you’re my age. Hearing you look older is the last thing you want at my age,” she huffs, and suddenly I feel sorry for anyone that might have done this to her.
“I couldn’t go to school for a couple of years,” I murmur, leaving it at that. I expect her to pry, but she doesn’t.
“Did you know Violet is both a flower and a color?” she asks, and my brow crinkles with confusion, because that question is as off the wall as any I’ve heard. Although, as weird as tonight has been, it shouldn’t surprise me.
“I never really thought about it, but I guess so.”
“Did I ever give you a name, Parker?” she asks, and I’m thoroughly confused.
“Ida Sue, stop.”
“Horse feathers. You need someone to look out for you. I can’t remember if I named you before, but I’m thinking Purple is a great name.”
“Uh… No.”
“Why not? I happen to think Violet and Purple could be such a good couple,” she says, clearly disappointed. “You’d complement one another perfectly.”
“Hold up, what are we talking about here?”
“Ida Sue is trying to fix us up,” Parker says, giving Ida Sue a very annoyed look.
“Fix us up for what?” I ask, still confused. I have a feeling this is something that might happen often around her.
“To date,” Parker explains.
“What? No way!”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Parker agrees.
“He’s too old,” I snap at Ida Sue.
