Page 128 of Lovebug
My dad, however, immediately starts sputtering. I know I shouldn’t be getting him riled up. I know I should be thinking about his heart and his blood pressure. But how many times will I be afraid to speak my truth with him, for fear that he’ll be upset? How many times will I let him determine the course for my life?
“Mabel?” he starts getting red in the face. “No! History will not repeat itself. I will not see you go down the same road as your—”
He cuts himself off and gets a really strange look on his face.
The room gets eerily quiet.
A strange energy moves in.
“The same road as my… who, Dad?” I say slowly. “Or my… what? What are you talking about?” I feel my voice go breathy, and my heart starts to pound.
His eyes flit up to my mother then back at me. “Nothing. No one. Just—get out of my house,” he repeats.
“Happily,” I say and start gathering a few of my things so I can spend the night elsewhere. There’s clearly no reasoning with this man.
“No, not you, Mabel.Him,” he says in anger and exasperation.
“Him. Him,’” I imitate the way he says it. “His name is Wally, Dad. And you don’t even know ‘him.’ You know what? Why are you two even home? You’re not supposed to come back from the Poconos until next weekend.”
Mom says, “Naomi Thornton let us know that an unknown Ford Focus was sitting outside of our house this afternoon, so we came back to check on the situation.”
“And it’s a very good thing that we did!” Dad glares at Wally.
I look at Wally for an explanation. “You were sitting outside my house all afternoon?”
He says without hesitation, “You were upset by what happened last night. I wanted to be close by if you changed your mind and decided you needed me.”
“That’s…” My hand goes to my heart. “Thank you, that’s really….” I turn my attention on my parents. “Wait. You could have just called. And what the hell is up with Naomi Thornton butting her nose into our lives at every turn?”
“Naomi is just a bit of a busybody,” Mom says. “Plus she always had a competitive thing with your mother, so after she left it carried over to us.” Her face immediately turns ghostly white. “I meant Tina. Naomi had a competitive thing with your Aunt Tina and…”
Her voice trails off.
She closes her eyes.
The silence that falls around us at that moment is deafening.
“What did you say?” I say in a near whisper.
“Sweetheart…” Mom pleads. For what though, I don’t know.
I repeat, more forcefully this time, “What did you say?”
“Nothing baby. I’ve had too much wine. See, this is why I don’t drink,” she tries to laugh it off, but there is no chance on earth that I’m letting this go.
“You said she had a competitive thing with my mother.” I pause. “You’remy mother,mom.”
More silence.
“Aren’t you?”
I hear my voice crack before I feel it.
“Mom, are you telling me Aunt Tina is actually my mother?”
“No. No she is not.” My father starts. “She is not. She is—”
“I am asking mom right now!”
