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“I was out with Anthony,” I answered solidly as I easily placed my key on the hook and slid my purse off my shoulder, as if I was ignorant to their anger.
“Of course, you were!” My father muttered, “You’ve been getting real cozy with that damn yankee, haven’t you?”
“Why would you do this to us?” My mother chimed in, sounding more hurt than angry.
“Do what?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes in protest, “You were the one who wanted me to take a more active role in being an adult and I happen to like Anthony.”
“You betrayed us!” My father screamed, barreling toward me with bulging eyes and a red face of fury.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, standing my ground against him, refusing to back down. “I have never done anything to betray you,” I insisted, even though rebelling did play a part in my initial interest in Anthony.
“This is just another way to illicit attention,” my mother insisted, standing slightly behind my father, as though trying to show her support.
“No, but it’s a great way not to get stuck in this one-horse town, like our family is some kind of ancient relic that is stationary…You know, money does spend other places.”
“This is our home!” My mother insisted indignantly.
“But that doesn’t mean it has to be mine,” I retorted, “At least not forever. What’s so bad about wanting to explore the world?”
“Because you explore it in all the wrong ways! You’re still just a child…” My father insisted.
“No, I’m not.”
“See? It’s that yankee. He’s putting all kinds of terrible stuff into her head,” My mother hissed, grasping my father’s arm as though drawing conviction from him.
“This has nothing to do with him! You’re just blaming him…I’ve always wanted to leave. I’ve always wanted to leave this town. You just never listened.”
“You are a lady, Sahara…a southern lady and I will be damned if you run off with some carpetbagger… I don’t care how much money he has!”
“You just don’t like him,”
“You’re damn straight I don’t like him,” my father spat, “All he’s done since he’s got here is strung us along and filled your head with ideas that he’s never going to make good on.”
“He hasn’t strung you along and he hasn’t promised me anything!” I insisted, “I don’t even know what the specifics of your stupid business plan is! All I know is that you need an investor to do whatever it is you want to do. He’s your lifeline, so I’d be a lot nicer to him if I were you.”
“This is my house! This is my business and it’s my money!” My father insisted, now growing angrier from the challenge he perceived. “I’ve survived without this bastard and I’ll survive after he leaves. There’s nothing that he can offer me that I can’t get anywhere else!”
“Then do it! Break off your business deal with him…”
“No, Sahara. You are forbidden to see him again! We will conclude our business and he is going to leave. You are never going to see him again.”
Anger coursed through me. Now, I was the one who felt betrayed.
“Dad,” I replied, aghast but trying to keep my voice at an even keel, “fist of all, you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about and secondly,” at this, I lost my already simmering temper, enraged by the fact that they were still trying to control me, “I am an adult! Like it or not, you can’t dictate who I can and can’t see!”
With that, I spun around, grabbing my keys, and clutching my purse, heading for the d
oor when I heard my father growl with rage, “Fine!” He screamed, “If you’re going to be a whore, you might as well make it worth our while!”
Before even a second thought, I whipped around to glare at my father. It was in that moment that I realized he was no one to respect and no one to listen to. I knew that I should have turned around and ran before the situation escalated but I couldn’t believe that I had heard him correctly.
“Excuse me?” I hissed, taking a step toward him.
By now, my mother had backed away from my father, trying to distance herself from his rant. She didn’t say anything, but I was certain she was unhappy with where he was going with this.
“You heard me!” He insisted, too fired up to back down, “If you’re going to jump his bones, why the hell won’t you at least pillow talk him into closing this deal for us. Do something worthwhile when you open your legs for once.”
“Dear Lord, Raymond!” My mother exclaimed but neither my father or myself paid her any mind.
