“Cut the pleasantries, Mom. I remember our conversation. That’s not what’s even bothering me anymore. Sure, it hurts like a bitch to realize that the person you’ve been calling Mom your whole life actually isn’t your mother at all. But you know what? It’s not even having to go through that twice that has me pissed. It’s that you tried to hide it, and then had my goddamn girlfriend hide it from me too. Why, Mom? Why?”
She places her drink by her feet and looks pleadingly at me. “I didn’t want to stress you out. I thought I was protecting you.”
“FROM WHAT?”
“From yourself! Jesus, Ethan, do you think that I haven’t noticed what your dad has put you through? Do you think I don’t know that you hate me for letting him? I couldn’t bear telling you again. We’ve broken you enough, damn it!” She throws her hands up to her face while sobs wrack her frail body, and all I can do is sit stunned and watch. “I couldn’t put that kind of pressure on you two minutes after waking from a coma that left someone dead and your dad paralyzed.”
I’m conscious of Blair rubbing my arm and I look down, watching her hand run over my skin before I realize I’m shaking.
“You should have told me.”
“I know. But sweetheart, I swear the only reason I didn’t was out of love, nothing more. I didn’t dare put you through anything else, Ethan—a person can only take so much before they snap. Trust me, I know.”
I stand and both sets of eyes follow me as I walk toward the door.
“Don’t leave,” Blair sighs. It’s barely audible but I hear her fine. I have the strangest feeling that I could pick out her voice, even at a whisper, in a stadium full of people shouting.
“I’m just going to get a soda. I’ll be right back.” With that I leave and go collect a can from the fridge. I’m not in the least bit thirsty, but I didn’t want either of them to see me cry. My eyes are stinging as I try hold on to the tears. I don’t know what’s happening to me. Maybe Mom was right; maybe a person can only take so much. Maybe I’ve just hit my limit.
It’s funny how random things like making a sandwich or hearing a song can trigger memories. I’ve spent most of the evening listening to Mom defend her actions about lying to me—or as she likes to dress it up, it wasn’t lying, it was omitting.
Blair and I came up to my room, and she’s been withdrawn and quiet. The atmosphere in here was pretty bleak, so I scrolled through my iPod, hit play and suddenly, BAM! I’m transported in my memory to the reception area of the police department with Blair…
Dad burns holes into my back with his scowl as we finish signing the paperwork. I can’t believe he came all this way to bail us out. He’s definitely going to make me pay for it the first chance he gets. He looks utterly furious; his arms are crossed over his chest, and his gaze is narrowed. He glances from me to Blair and then back to me again with nothing but disappointment and anger in his eyes. There’s no ‘hello,' no ‘how are you?’ No pleasantries at all. He turns and walks out, expecting us to follow silently, and that’s exactly what we do.
Blair has my hand in a death grip as we walk towards what I’m assuming is a rental car. Dad opens the back door and stands aside to let us both in. His jaw is working back and forth, and I’m sure that if I were alone right now he wouldn’t be so quiet. Blair climbs in, and he closes the door, stopping me from following.
“You’ve got some explaining to do once your girlfriend’s gone,” he tells me in an eerily calm voice.
“Yes, sir,” I answer and make my way around to the other side of the vehicle and get in. We drive for a little while before Dad finally cracks.
“What the hell happened? I’m dying to know why I had to get on a plane and come bail your sorry ass out of jail. You’d better have a damn good explanation.” His voice cuts through the already frigid atmosphere in the car and I see Blair tense from the corner of my eye.
“It was my fault, Mr. Jamison. A guy came onto me at the bar and Ethan was just trying to protect me.” My head snaps to Blair’s and she’s pleading me with her eyes to go along with her story. She’s trying to protect me and as much as I love her for doing it, I hate that she feels like she needs to.
“Do I look stupid to you, girl? I was talking to Ethan!” he barks out and Blair flinches back in her seat.
“Don’t talk to her like that.” I can handle him talking to me like I’m a piece of shit but not her. Never her.
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I’ve just come to bail you and your little whore out, and this is how you talk to me?”
I see red and ball my fists at my side. “If you ever call her a whore again I swear to god I’ll make you regret it.” My words filter into the calm and quiet of the car, but they hit their mark as intended. The road we’re on is empty, so he pulls to a stop and turns in his seat with eyes blazing like fire. I know what’s coming next; at least I would if we weren’t all strapped into a car. This would be the point where he loses his shit and beats the crap out of me until he feels better. Thing is, he can’t do that from where he’s sitting, and he’s not the kind of guy that likes an audience. Blair’s eyes are wide as she takes in the stalemate that we’ve come to.