Page 21 of Meant to Be

I put my pillow over my head, but Chip’s voice still got louder. He shouted about what a spoiled, irresponsible diva I was, and how I never “lifted a damn finger around here.” When he was right outside my door, I could hear my mom begging him to leave me alone, saying that I needed my sleep for my “big day” tomorrow.

I shook my head, knowing she’d just made things infinitely worse. It was going to be a long night—and we were both screwed. It was inevitable. So before we could go through the whole tired routine of him pounding on the door and threatening to kick it down, I opened it, staring right into his eyes. For one second, he looked surprised—maybe a little disappointed—that I wasn’t cowering in the corner.

“I’m really sorry, Chip,” I said, facing the music, getting it over with.

“What are you sorry for?” he shouted, his face bright red. He was still in his full uniform, gun in his holster and all, with Pepper’s litter box at his feet. “Tell meexactlywhat you’re sorry for.”

It was the usual song and dance, and one I could never get right. I was either too specific or not specific enough. I was either being flippant or groveling in a way he found disingenuous.

“I’m sorry for not changing the litter box,” I said, glancingdown at it, keeping my voice low and steady, trying to hit the right note.

“When did you change this fucking thing last?” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “And don’t lie to me.”

It was a no-win, because I’d changed the litter box two days ago—and the directions on the box said I had three to four days. So I opted to lie, saying, “I’m not sure. It’s been a few days. I’m sorry.”

“The hell you are. You’re a spoiled fucking brat. You think you’re too good for this house, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t, Chip,” I said, making fleeting eye contact with my mom, another tactical error. He hated when he felt like she was on my side, especially if that meant we were aligned against him.

“YES, YOU FUCKING DO! AND DON’T LOOK AT YOUR MOTHER!”

I bit my lip, nodded, and mumbled again that I was sorry. But he was already on to his next move, reaching down for the litter box, then raising it over his head with both hands. I stared at him, confused, then realized with horror what he was about to do. Sure enough, he hurled the entire plastic bin at me as hard as he could. I ducked my head as cat litter and pellets of cat poop flew across my room, landing all over my shag carpet, my desk, my bed.

“Clean this fucking mess up. NOW!” he said, looking so satisfied. Downright proud of himself.

I nodded, quickly dropping to my knees and scraping up cat litter with my bare hands. It was a completely futile exercise, especially because the trash can was on the other side of the room.

“I’ll get the vacuum cleaner,” I heard my mom say.

“No! Don’t you dare help her! You do everything for her!” Chip shouted. As he turned and stormed back down the hall, Iprayed that he wasn’t looking for Pepper. Fortunately, the front door slammed, and his engine turned over in the carport outside my window. Only at that point did I look back up at my mom.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, tears in her eyes.

I started to tell her it was okay, like I always did. Instead, something snapped inside me. “Why in the world would you tell him about the casting call?” I demanded to know. “He always tries to ruin everything!”

“I—I—was excited.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, there’s nothing to be excited about. I’m not gonna get it.”

As I went to get the vacuum cleaner, I realized, once again, that I was screwed and alone. It crossed my mind to call Wendy—and go over to her house for the night—maybe finally confide in her and her parents what was happening in my house. But in the long run that would backfire. Not even Mr. Fine, with all his power, could do anything to stop a police officer. More likely, he’d tell Wendy that it was too dangerous to be my friend. Mr. Fine was a good man, but he would put his child’s safety first, the exact opposite of what was happening at my house. Besides, Wendy and I weren’t even as close as we had been. I was so busy working that Kimberly had moved back up in the pecking order. Sometimes I felt like Wendy rubbed that in my face, going out of her way to let me know how much fun I was always missing, and how bad she felt for me. To be fair, I think she actuallydidfeel sorry for me, as I think Wendy’s worst nightmare would have been to miss both homecomingandprom, as I had. But her constant sympathy only made me feel more left out, like I was straddling two worlds, truly belonging in neither.

When I returned with the vacuum cleaner, my mom was stripping the sheets and pillowcases from my bed, still talking about Calvin Klein, and how she just knew I would get picked. It washer Stepford Wife robot mode; her eyes were glassy and her voice stilted as she fell into a catatonic denial.

“No, Mom. I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen,” I said, staring at her. “I’m gonna clean this room for the next two hours. And by then, Chip will come home and tell me I didn’t do it right and start screaming again and find some kind of an excuse to beat on you. Maybe break your nose…And tomorrow I’m gonna show up at that audition looking like a zombie with bloodshot eyes and they’re gonna laugh me out of the room. Which isexactlywhat Chip wants.”

My mom’s chin trembled. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry,” she said. Because she knew it was true.

And, of course, itwastrue. Everything I said turned out to be correct, with only one exception: Chip didn’t break my mom’s nose; he broke her collarbone.

—

As Chip tookmy mom to the ER, undoubtedly with another lie about her falling down the stairs, I lay awake all night, worrying that Chip’s abuse seemed to be escalating. Finally, my alarm went off, and I got up and went to my casting. Afterward, Daisy called and asked me how it went.

“It was a disaster,” I said.

“Oh, no. What happened?”

I took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “I don’t know…I just…I didn’t get much sleep last night. And I—I just couldn’t get it together. They started asking me questions, and I couldn’t think…I sucked…I’m sorry, Daisy.”

---