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“What is that?” Art asked, catching me humming in his presence.

“‘Lawyers, Guns and Money’.”

The other thing Art and I agreed on was our taste in dates. Burgers from the chuck wagon and a drive-in movie. Despite his polished appearance, Art harbored a secret soft spot for popcorn schlock. Not Westerns either. We both jumped right down to the bottom of the gutter with exploitation and grindhouse. The bloodier, the better. There was a triple feature that night that would keep us out for hours—Daddy no doubt thinking things had gone swimmingly and never suspecting the actual truth of the matter. I just couldn’t say no to Dad. I’d never disobeyed him before.

I looked at Art in the flicker of the towering moving screen. He wasn’t too bad looking, really. Put him in some jeans and a T-shirt, and he might even be handsome. Were it not for his rich boy attitude and propensity to try and bang everything with a skirt and a pulse, we might have been friends. I tried to put it out on my mind and focus on the low-budget glory unfolding before us.

If there was such a thing as a respectable time, that date wasn’t it.

The mansions stood like specters in the dark as the rig rumbled up the street, setting off several dogs along the way. I closed the front door as quietly as humanly possible. Daddy wasn’t likely waiting up for me, and I didn’t want to wake him. It might have been a different story were it closer to sunrise, but as it stood, I was still okay. Though from what I understood, even if I had stayed out until breakfast, considering who I was with, I wouldn’t have been a slut. Just chronologically challenged.

As far as our dads were concerned, Art and I were already engaged. Though I didn’t actually remember a ring being offered or accepted for that matter. It was like the will of God, inherent, permanent, and never to be questioned. Though the older I got, the more appealing some pagan deities started to look. Though that would be going a bit too far with the “heritage and tradition” Daddy and Granddaddy constantly went on about. Proper human existence beginning with the Mayflower as far as they were concerned.

Taking off my heels, I crept up the stairs and into my room. Freeing myself of the dress as I went. I couldn’t help but pause a moment. Feeling the cool fresh air on my skin. The sigh escaped from my lungs before I knew it was coming.

I was sad it was such a relief but also couldn’t deny it was true. I loved my family, though I also knew I could never be happy following their plan for me. It came down to a terrible choice between safety and freedom. Put like that, I knew which one I preferred. The Texas Rebel blood boiling up in me like lava. I just had to find a way to escape without letting Daddy know that was what I was doing.***

It was quite the occasion. Similar to Art, Daddy thought the best way to show his love was through spending as much money as possible. So my birthdays tended to more closely resemble coronations. My sweet sixteen had been the event of many years, and my twenty-first promised to be even bigger. It was little surprise then that final preparations were still going on when I came down that morning.

“Sugar plumb, you’re nearly nude!” Daddy exclaimed.

“I am?” I asked, looking down at my nightdress, which looked like an army overcoat. Only a bit of my calf was showing.

“Oh, well, I guess it is just family around,” he said, looking over at my mom and instantly softening.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course, baby. Pull up a pew.”

We all sat at the dinner table where Daddy held court. Earl of the house of Dunn sitting tall at the head.

“I-I know what I want for my birthday,” I said, hoping broadswords wouldn’t be needed.

“Oh, good. Anything you want, baby doll.”

“I want to become certified as a mechanic.”

His face dropped like the New Year’s Ball. This clearly was not like anything he had in mind. He probably would have been less surprised if I’d said I wanted Australia.

“Y-you’re sure that’s what you want, baby?”

“Yes, daddy. More than anything.”

“More than anything, hey?” His fingers combed at his mustache, showing that he was considering the idea. “Okay, do you think you could be happy getting certified as a mechanic but not practicing? It could be like a hobby.”

Not quite what I’d been hoping for, but every negotiation required at least some compromise. The important thing was to go out on my own for a while and train in a skill. Really see if I could do it.

Daddy had no idea, but all I really wanted to do was work with cars. If I was honest, I did better with machines than most people, though I’d learned to hide it.

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