All the paintings on the wall shook violently and fell to the ground in a simultaneous smash.
I froze. So did my father. I saw a flicker of fear behind his eyes. My mother covered her face in her hands and whimpered, “Not again” to herself.
I was panting heavily, trying to catch my breath as the fuzzy threads of unconsciousness began to fade in the corner of my mind. The living room carpet was bordered with glass fragments. Had my scream brought them down off their hooks? Was that possible?
My dad looked around him, dumbfounded, and back at me. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. He walked over to my mother and patted her on the back. She was crying softly.
“You see what you did. You’re scaring your mother again,” he said. His voice had quieted but the accusatory tone was still there.
I took in a deep breath and carefully placed the lamp back on the table. My emotions were coming back around. I didn’t need to break the lamp in order to prove my point.
“I’m sorry,” I said feebly. “I should have told you I got fired but I didn’t want you to know. I was afraid you’d make me quit the show.”
“Damn right you’re going to quit the show,” my dad said.
The urge to explode was rising again. I eyed the lamp.
“Perry, please don’t start this,” my mom whispered through her hands. I paused. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading. Not from concern but from fright. She was afraid of me.
I wanted to ask what she meant by “this” but I didn’t. That seemed like a path I didn’t need to go down at the moment.
“I’m not quitting,” I managed to squeak out. There was no way that was happening. It wasn’t an option. They should have known that.
“Perry,” my father warned.
“No. No, I am not quitting. This job is all I have!” The panic in my voice was unmistakable.
He laughed. It was bitter, angry. “It’s not a job. I have a job, Perry.”
“It pays. I am making money. I signed a contract to be employed by ShowNet. So it is a job.” I was losing my patience and afraid I was losing the war.
“I am not discussing this with you further. As long as you live in this house, you will not be doing that show.”
“Oh yeah? Well, try and stop me,” I said, crossing my arms, surprised at my own stubbornness and nerve.
He looked surprised too. He sat back down in his armchair with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
My mother spoke up gently, “Perry, we’re more concerned with the fact that you lied to us. I didn’t think you would lie like that anymore.”
“I said I was sorry,” I mumbled but kept my stance. “And I am sorry. I feel terrible about it. I haven’t been able to sleep, I haven’t been able to eat. And I’m not lazing around doing nothing, I’m out every day looking for jobs. It’s just hard. No one is hiring.”
“This wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t messed everything up,” dad said. “You had a chance for a great career and you threw it away. I mean, you actually had it in your hands, Perry. We were so proud of you. Why did you have to ruin it? Why do you have to make problems for yourself? You need to just…grow up.”
The tears were coming again. Not from anger or frustration but because I truly did feel terrible. I hated lying to them and even more than that, I hated the fact that they thought less of me.
The tears spilled down my cheeks but I tried to hold it together.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again, feeling utterly, destructively helpless.
“Just…go, Perry. Your mother and I have a lot to talk about,” my father said, turning his attention away from me. It was like he couldn’t even look in my direction anymore.
I sniffled, wiping my tears on my coat jacket and took off up the stairs, my vision blurring. I almost tripped on the last step but suddenly Ada was beside me and had me by the arm. We didn’t say anything to each other; she just took me down the hall to her room and led me inside. I stumbled through my tears and flopped onto her bed.
I spent a few minutes heaving into the down comforter, my sobs choking my breath. Ada patted me on the back and I was thankful for the rare affection from my little sister.
“Parents just don’t understand,” I said into the blanket, my voice muffled.
“What?” she asked.
I rolled over and gave her a weak smile. “Will Smith was onto something.”
She still looked puzzled at my old school rap reference. “Whatever. I’m sorry they found out.”
“Did they figure out you knew?”
She nodded. No wonder it looked like she had been crying. They laid into her for lying for me, for trying to save my ass. I felt very guilty for bringing her into my mess, for having to cover up my lies. I told her that.
“It’s OK,” she said licking her finger and wiping away her mascara smudges on her cheeks. “They were mad, though. Dad said some pretty mean stuff.”
“I bet Mom wasn’t an angel either,” I scoffed.
She tilted her head. “Actually…Mom was standing up for you.”
I sat up a bit straighter. “Really?”
My mom and I weren’t exactly close. We never had been. That feeling that I had earlier, that she was afraid of me…it didn’t exactly come from nowhere. I always felt my mom treated me with kid gloves, more for her own concern than mine.
“Yeah. She thought maybe this would lead you to something better down the road. The show. Not the whole fake job thing. She even told Dad it wasn’t that big of a deal if you didn’t have a job at the moment since you were living at home anyway.”
That didn’t sound like my mom at all.
“You’re sure?”
She shrugged and got off the bed. She peered in the mirror. “I don’t know, it’s just what she said. Then Dad ended up yelling at her. You know, the usual stupid shit. And I ran away while I could. And that’s why I told your stupid ass not to come home.”
Well, would it have killed you to text a little more information? I thought, but didn’t say anything. She had done enough for me already.
She glanced at me. “So what are you going to do now? What are you going to say to Dex?”
Dex. Oh shit. For the first time in awhile, I had completely forgotten about him.
“You going to call him?” She came over to the bed and sat beside me.
“I can’t deal with that now,” I said, though I knew I would have to tell him something. I was supposed to meet him in Seattle on Friday.
It was just too much. My head began to spin wildly and I fell back into the covers, closing my eyes, wanting to shut everything out.
“Want me to text him?” she asked.
I sighed. “Could you?”