Page 25 of Reckoning

“Jeanette’s husband is the president of the bank. He has all the power and money he needs to do what he wants. I sell insurance, Mariah. My secretary answers the phone and makes appointments. She can’t do my job, and we can’t afford any shopping trips to New York City.”

Mariah frowned. “That’s just not fair.”

Roger served himself some peas. “Fair? Since when does fair come into it? We all live the lives we’re dealt the best we can and try to be happy. You have a nice house, a car, and you have us.” He winked at Briar and passed her the bowl of peas.

Mariah sniffed. She refused to be placated and transferred her attention to Briar.

“Briar, darling, I heard there’s a part-time job opening at the supermarket. You should apply. It would be good for you to have something to do this summer besides hanging around that Bandy boy. He’s nothing but trouble.”

Briar looked up, staring at her mother without speaking until Mariah had the grace to look away, but Briar’s anger became obvious by the cold, clipped tone of her voice.

“That job was already taken right after the Fourth. Tate applied and got it. He does not get in trouble or cause trouble, and if you start spreading lies about him again, I will be forced to go crying to my teachers and the school counselor that my mother is a hopeless alcoholic.”

Mariah slapped the flat of her hand on the table. “You wouldn’t dare! You do not shame me in this town.”

Briar calmly observed the virulent shade of red spreading up her mother’s neck and face. “You’ve already done that on your own, and stop lying, trying to make Tate into something he’s not. I don’t pick your friends. You don’t get to pick mine. Will you excuse me? I’ve lost my appetite,” she said, and got up and left the room.

Roger glared. “You just have to meddle, don’t you? Why do you have to be this way?”

Mariah frowned, but she’d learned the hard way that Roger had a tipping point, and she didn’t want to go through that divorce scare ever again.

She shrugged.

“Lots of kids their age get jobs. It was just a suggestion,” she muttered.

“Lots of women your age are also working. You could too. You don’t have the right to order everyone else in this house to go to work and then sit here emptying wine bottles all day long until I pour you into bed. Like his father, Tate will be a good employee no matter what he does. I am not opposed to my daughter working if she can find a job in this little town, but I told you what would happen if you started lying about that boy and his mother again, so I advise you to keep that in mind.” He tapped the side of his plate to accent the demand, then finished his meal in silence. When he left the table, he took a piece of lemon pie up to Briar and knocked on her door. “Briar, may I come in?”

* * *

Tears were still shimmering in Briar’s eyes as she closed the door behind her and plopped down onto the end of her bed. From where she was sitting, she could see across the park to the roof of the supermarket where Tate was working, and she felt herself sinking deeper into a hole she might never escape.

The day he’d told her he had a job, it felt like he was moving into a world she had yet to experience. Before, they’d done everything together. School. Summers in the park. Sitting in the bleachers at the baseball field cheering him on when he caught fly balls, and when he was at bat.

She loved to watch him run. He was a head taller than the boys his age and had turned nineteen last January. His tall, lanky body should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. He moved with an animal grace, like he was always aware of where to step next.

Then she looked down at the ring on her hand and sighed. The only person out of step was her mother, and hearing her mother continue to belittle Tate was like a knife in her heart.

Most days now Briar felt like a stranger in her own body. It had changed into the shape of a woman, but she didn’t know how to be one. She didn’t see the beauty in her changing features, only that the little girl she’d always seen in the mirror was no longer there, and the young woman she was becoming looked afraid and uncertain.

She kept telling herself that all she had to do was graduate and get a full-ride college scholarship. She’d been haunting the hallways at high school for years, taking extra classes like Tate with the intention of graduating early, then in and out of the counselor’s office, asking what else she could do to add to a college application.

She knew she was book-smart. Eleven years of school and she had yet to get a grade lower than an A. She and Tate had studied for their SATs for months before taking their tests this past spring. He took it because she did, even though he had no intention of going to college. He already had his future planned.

They constantly talked about the day their paths would separate. College was Briar’s ticket out of the house and away from her mother. Tate’s path led to using the gift he’d been born with.

When the knock came at her door and she heard her father’s voice, she sighed. She didn’t really want to talk to him either, but here he was anyway.

“Come in,” she said, and looked up as he came in carrying a piece of pie.

He put it on her desk and sat down at the end of her bed with her.

“I’m sorry that happened, honey. I brought you pie. It’s lemon, your favorite.” When she didn’t respond, he didn’t know what to do next. He felt bad for the whole situation. And she’d been crying. That much was obvious, but he could see that she was also angry. When he went to hold her hand, she pulled it away.

“Don’t pretend with me, Daddy. Neither of you like Tate. Mama is just honest about her hate. You hide yours. I don’t want to talk about it with either of you, ever again. And take the pie with you when you go.”

“But you haven’t eaten any supper,” he said.

“And whose fault is that? I am no longer willing to be her whipping post, and you’re back to letting her control the narrative. I need some fresh air. I’m going to walk to the park and get a snow cone. I won’t quit Tate for either of you. I won’t lie about it to either of you. We belong together.”