Page 154 of The Americana Playbook

Abby nods gently, understanding, and I walk alongside her to the elevators, seeing her out. When I step back into the apartment, I bark, “You don’t have a right to barge in here. I don’t care who?—"

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dad says from behind me. I jump, spinning on my heel. “Oh. Well, what a beautiful place.” He leans forward, kissing my cheek.

I shiver, and I swear, from behind him, my mother smiles at my discomfort.

“What are you doing here?”

Dad smiles tightly. “We were up in Brookline for a fundraiser thrown by some old buddies. Figured we’d pass by.”

“Actually, I was just on my way out.” I grab my keys off the tray sitting on the table in the entry and head to the door.

But now the two agents stand in front of it, making sure I have nowhere to go.

I cringe when Mom puts her arm around my shoulders and turns me toward the kitchen. “I’m sure you can make a little time for us,” she says.

I press my lips together, watching as my dad sits at one of the barstools. “What do you want?”

“To drink? Diet soda for your father and tea for me,” Mom says. “Anything without caffeine. I hate being kept up all night.”

“Who was that friend of yours?” Dad asks as I fill the kettle, wondering if we have not just decaffeinated tea but arsenic as well.

“She’s my trainer,” I tell them. “I’m riding again.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom comments. “Do you have a competition coming up?”

I lower my head. “Does it make a difference?” I open the drawer where I keep the tea bags. “The caffeine?”

“Without it, I sleep like a baby.”

I bring the kettle to the stove and turn on a burner. “I’m not sure why I thought something else might keep you up all night.”

Mom takes a seat next to Dad. “What’s that?”

“What you did to me.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Where yousentme.”

“Here we go.” Mom lifts her blonde head to the ceiling.

“Here we go?” I ask, dumbfounded. “Do you know someonediedat that place? When I was there. She died because no one would take her to an actualdoctor?”

My mother folds her hands together and leans forward on the island. “Didyoudie, Parker?”

“Part of me did.” I give her the answer I should’ve given Madeline when she asked the same thing.

Dad sighs. “We put you there so you?—”

“Don’t feed me that bullshit. You put me there so you wouldn’t have to deal with me. You put me there because it didn’t—Ididn’t—look good for Dad’s campaign. Just admit it!” I scream, reaching behind me and turning the burner off when the kettle begins to whistle. “Just admit it. I wantyouto say the words. I want you to say that your love for me—if you have any at all—is conditional on behaving in a way that looks good for you.”

Dad looks away, and Mom takes a deep breath. “In this family, Parker,” she says, “we all have jobs to do.”

“I was a kid. I was a kid who needed help. Not someone who needed to be locked away, to betortured?—”

“Is that what the meeting with Congressman Holdings was about?”

I step back from the island, and Mom scoffs. “What? Do you think you can just alert your security detail that acongressmanis coming to your apartment and we don’t find out about it? Honestly, Parker, I thought you were smarter than that.”

My mouth falls open slightly, but I’m not sure why I’m surprised. “You’re right. I should know better than to ever have come back around and think, tohelpyou. After what you did to me?—”

“Oh, would you stop with the theatrics! For god’s sake, Parker. That was years ago. If you haven’t moved past your experience there, it certainly was the right place for you.” She sits back, pulling her hands into her lap. “My only regret was not listening to James Foller and sending you there sooner.”

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