Page 33 of Riot Reunion
“You weren’t being very respectful when you put a kid in my daughter’s stomach, though, were you.”
One Mississippi.
Two Mississippi.
Three Mississippi.
I gesture for another shot of whiskey.
Four Mississippi.
Fi—fuck, who said counting cools your temper? They were fucking lying. There aren’t enough Mississippis in the world to douse the flames inside me.
The bartender slides the shot toward me, and I knock it back in one, not caring that Robert can see me. When I slam down the empty glass, I focus all of my attention on Chase’s father. “Are you done?”
He pulls a face.
“Good. I didn’t intend for this to happen. I definitely didn’t do it on purpose. Now are you gonna give me your permission to ask Chase to marry me, or am I gonna walk out of here and ask her without it?”
“I still think you should wait.”
“What for? Until she’s the size of a house? Until our kid’s five? Until we’re retiring in Florida and you finally kick the bucket?”
“Whoa, now. That’s a little harsh!”
“You don’t thinkyou’vebeen a little harsh to me?” I let out a scathing laugh.
“All right. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’m just worried, is all. Presley is my only daughter—”
“You think I’m not gonna look after her? That I won’t earn enough to keep her comfortable?”
“It’s not that.”
“You think I’m gonna make her unhappy, then?”
He pauses, then reluctantly says, “No. For some reason, you seem to make her very happy. I doubt that’ll change.”
“You think I’ll cheat? Lie? Get bored?”
“No. None of that.”
“Then what is it? How are you justifying keeping us from this?”
“She lost her teens, Pax! My own son robbed her of them. During the years when she was supposed to be out, having fun with her friends, exploring life, and figuring out who she wanted to be, she was being accosted in the most brutal, awful way, right underneath my nose. Her innocence was ripped from her. It kept on being ripped from her over and over again. She grew up so fast, because she didn’t have a choice. I just want—I want her to take some of that time back. For herself. I want her to act her age. She should enjoy college. Be free, and wild, and full of joy. If she’s married to you, then what? She’s a wife at eighteen? Even twenty’s too young. It’s too much!”
“But she can be amother?A baby might throw a spanner in your ‘wild and free’ plans for her, don’t you think?”
He goes to say something. His mouth opens, but he stops himself. He looks away, off to the right, toward the photo shrine of Chase’s youth. A series of emotions flit across his face, but all of them are hard to pin down and name.
“What? You don’t have anything to say to that? You want your grandkid to grow up with a party girl for a mom. Pledging sororities and drinking her face off every night for no good fucking reason, while you end up having to look after the kid—”
“Jesus! For fuck’s sake, bereasonable, Pax. There isn’t gonnabea kid, okay? Not if I have anything to say about it. Presley knows what’s best for her, and that is not having a baby at eighteen, before she’s even had a chance to live, okay. She—”
“What thefuckare you talking about?” I go deadly still. My voice is quiet, but the question I’ve just posed thunders in my ears.
“I’ve talked to Presley. She knows that I’m here to support her. There’s nothing wrong with her making a decision that benefits her future. It benefits your future, too. Just think for one second about what your life will look like with a newborn. What, you think you’re gonna be able to traipse all over the world with that Cross guy, going on photoshoots? You’re dreaming. You’ll have to buy a house, and settle down, and get used to being chained to—”
“You told her to get rid of it?” I whisper.
