He straightened his tie again and gave my appearance a onceover before shooting me a disapproving scowl. “For heaven’s sake, at least take off that sweatshirt; you look like a……a thug!” he whispered coldly across the table, referencing the black hoodie I’d been wearing since I got in a few hours ago. Initially, I had plans to hide the tattoo for as long as I could, hoping to keep the peace here in the house for my mother. However, this hatred for my father overshadowed my sense of reason at the moment. He wanted the hoodie off? I’d take it off.
I stood from my seat and snatched both shirts over my head just as the Tanakas came through the French doors of the dining room. The sound of my mother’s embarrassed gasp silenced the lighthearted conversation she’d been carrying on with our guests prior to finding her son stripping at the dinner table. My father’s jaw was so tense I thought he might stroke out, and it wasn’t until the shock of my behavior wore off that he even noticed Sam’s name in black ink on my neck. His face turned redder than the burgundy paint on the walls.
My mother put her hand to her chest and stepped aside when I passed her on the way to my room. I had to leave. If I stuck around, I’d end up doing something I’d regret. Shirts still in hand, I took the stairs two at a time, rushing to get my keys off the dresser so I could put this house in my rearview mirror. I put the hoodie on again once I was alone, and doubled back to get my phone off the bed, too. I had a stunned audience of ultra-conservative onlookers when I made my exit through the front door. Mr. Tanaka’s twins watched me curiously from the doorway of the living room, whispering to one another when our eyes locked briefly.
I didn’t care; they could say what they wanted. Coming home was a mistake and I knew that before I even got here. I spent most of the drive talking myself into not turning around and going back to school. The only reason I made the trip was because I knew that if I didn’t, I’d miss my chance to see Sam.
I burned rubber when I sped out of my driveway, waiting for Karl to pick up his phone.
“Hey, whassup,” he answered.
“Talk me down.” I blew all the air from my lungs and looked at the speedometer when I reached 60 In a 25 mile per hour speed zone.
“He’s starting already?” Karl asked.
“That dick thinks he owns the whole mother-f–“
“Dude, breathe. Are you driving?” He asked, hearing the sound of Vick’s horn sounding off behind me when I slammed on my brakes purposely to stop him from tailing me so closely.
I opened my sunroof to give him the finger and then turned off onto the main road. “On my way to Sam’s,” I answered dryly.
“What happened?”
I pictured that smug look on my father’s face and pressed down on the gas a little harder. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Karl everything, but I didn’t. “Just business as usual,” I said, summing up all of my father’s actions.
“Well, if things get bad enough, you know you’re welcome to stay here at our house. Or if not here, there’s always your guesthouse, right?”
I rolled my eyes thinking about my father expecting me to be on my best behavior because he needed Mr. Tanaka. “Guesthouse is off limits. We have people staying with us until Saturday.”
“Oh…..well, that sucks. My house is still an option, though.”
I thanked him and then fell silent again.
“Who’re the guests?” Karl inquired.
“Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka and their daughters – no one you know. My dad went to college with him and our families used to share a lake house like every summer up until I was thirteen or something.”
“Oh, ok,” was all Karl got out before another call came through on his other line.
“It’s cool; take it. I’m almost at Sam’s anyway – just needed to vent before I got to her place.”
“Call if you need to come by, though,” Karl offered again.
“Will do.”
I ended the call and tried to let the remaining irritation fall away. Rolling down the window and taking in the cool November air helped some, but this tension ran a little too deep to be quenched so easily. There was another way to release my frustration.
*****