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“Daddy!” I said, startled to see him inside.
I shook my head quickly. “I apologize for calling you that here, Mr. James. How can I help you, sir?”
My father was sitting behind my desk and let his eyes sweep the small space, his displeasure clear.
“Amy, I raised you better than this. Look at this mess,” he said.
I looked around at the stacks of paper everywhere, but they were neatly organized. Still, I wanted to explain why they were there.
“I tried to get this stuff filed away, but we need to transfer some more documents offsite. So I’m storing them here for a little while.”
“Amethyst,” his said, using my full name, proof of his annoyance, not that I needed more. “This is a professional environment. It is completely unacceptable to maintain your work space like a pigsty.”
I didn’t answer immediately, instead thinking about how dealing with my father and his disapproval was the last thing I was in the mood for. But I bit back a sigh and answered as I knew he expected me to.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll see that these papers are taken care of.”
His nostrils flared with annoyance. “Do that. And if the responsibility of the records department is too much for you, let me know, and I’ll find someone who can handle it.”
His voice was quiet, and truthfully, I couldn’t ever recall him raising it.
But those soft words cut as deeply as screams would have.
I showed no outward reaction to my feelings, knew that he hated it when I was emotional.
“That won’t be necessary, sir,” I said as I quickly went to gather some of the files. “Was there something else you wanted to see me about?”
“There was, but it’s not important. You’re busy enough with this,” he said, his disappointment and disgust clear.
“No, sir! I’m not. I’m happy to help in any way I can,” I said, wanting to smooth this over.
The obsequiousness of my tone annoyed me, but while my father didn’t look exactly pleased, he was less annoyed than he had been moments before.
He shook his head, seeming to have come to a decision.
“Maybe later. But for now, get this mess in order.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, hating the way my voice shrank.
As he started to leave, I called out. “Um, sir…”
I had planned to see him today, tell him about what I had found. But when he looked at me, his dark eyes glittering with disappointment, I changed my mind.
“I’m sorry. It’s nothing.”
“Don’t waste my time, Amy,” he said with a derisive shake of his head.
“I won’t, sir,” I said.
I could feel the heat rising in my face, but like always, I pushed back the tears.
I was a grown woman, and I refused to break down at the slightest little insult.
Not that he would see it that way.
But it didn’t matter anyway.
I went to work, trying to clear the office as best I could.
