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“I can’t believe you just did that!” I scream at my father.
He lied. To a police captain.
“Marti
n never touched me before two days ago. He’s too good of a man to do something that could ruin both of our reputations.”
I’m so mad tears are freely falling from my face.
“He shouldn’t have touched you to begin with. You’re a child. You have no idea what it means to be intimate with a man,” Dad counters, and I want to scream at the top of my lungs.
“You’re going to live with your Aunt Ruth,” Mom pipes up, a glass of vodka and cranberry juice in her hand. Heavy on the vodka. “Sex and drinking, you obviously can’t be tamed.”
I watch the woman who gave birth to me, and I wonder, not for the first time in my life, if these people know me at all.
Running my fingers through my hair roughly, I stare at them.
“Do you even know me? Do you pay attention to anything? I get straight A’s, I’ve been accepted to some of the top universities and colleges in the country and I’ve never been on a date! How can you say that because I kissed a man,”—they don’t know for certain we had sex—“and tried a shot of vodka, for curiosity’s sake,”—it’s only a little white lie—“that I’m out of control?”
My father has the presence of mind to at least appear guilty for his baseless assumptions. My mother, however, just takes another damn drink.
“Did you ever think I’ve been so starved for attention that accepting Martin’s love was so easy because neither of you care enough to pay me any mind?” I know it’s a low blow, but they exchange a look that says maybe I’m getting through to them.
“Now listen, we’ve taken good care of you, we don’t deserve these accusations,” Dad says, but there’s no real heat behind his statement.
“Really? You don’t? Let me ask you then, what were my top colleges? Which one have I been dying to go to since I found out about their photography programs?”
It’s been a couple months since I’ve spoken to them about it, but they knew. Dad looks embarrassed. Mom takes another drink.
“You don’t know, do you? You don’t know anything about me. You’re always drinking, Mom.” I look at the drink in her hand pointedly. “And you, Dad, you’re working or golfing, or planning your next trip that never involves me. Nothing ever involves me. I’m a burden, so tell me, why should I even listen to you? Why should I stay?”
They say nothing.
“I’ll be next door. You can call Martin’s captain and apologize for the trouble you’ve caused and come find me when you can be civil and understanding of my needs.”
Jesus, when did I turn into the parent?
Rushing upstairs, I grab a sweater and head out the back door to Martin’s. I know he left, because I heard his car squeal out of here, but I hope he’ll be back soon.
The night is cool for late spring, and I even enjoy the slight breeze with the leftover heat of the day. It makes it so I’m not too cold or hot. Grabbing a blanket from the bench off Grace’s back porch, I walk around to the front and sit on one of the rocking chairs they have out there. Draping the blanket across my lap, I close my eyes and wait for Martin’s return.
I know I was doubtful of who and what we are to each other yesterday, but last night and today only confirmed what I secretly wanted.
We’re a couple.
He’s said it multiple times, and when he’s been making love to me, I could see the love in his stare. I only hope he saw it reflected back at him. Martin Lynch is the man I want to spend my life loving, and I have no doubt he feels the same way.
Marty
I’m pissed. Raging fucking mad as I pull into Onyx and Grace’s driveway. My intent is to head over to Celeste’s and set her parents straight. I’m going to give them a huge fucking piece of my mind.
That was the plan.
Until I see her.
Celeste Davis.
Asleep in the chair on the front porch. A blanket covering her legs, looking comfy as can be. Heading up the sidewalk instead, I reach down and enfold her in my arms.
