Chapter Thirteen
Winter
M ia had expected to feel relieved when the semester ended and Christmas break finally arrived, but she had things on her mind that were more unpleasant than finals. She’d put off having this talk with her dad for as long as she could but just the thought of it made nausea swim in her stomach.
“You can do this, baby,” Gabriel told her the second time that week. “You don’t have to tell him about me, and I understand why you wouldn’t, but you have to tell him about college. He’s paying for your tuition so he’s going to find out eventually and I know you don’t want to lie to him.”
She blinked back her tears and took a shaking breath. Now was not the time for her to fall apart. “Thank you.”
“I’m here for anything you need.”
“Anything?”
“You know I am.”
“Tell me again how much you liked my letter.”
“If I do, will you write me another one?”
She grinned, ready to let him take her mind off her problems with something more fun and flirtatious. “I already did, and I mailed it yesterday. I think you’ll like it even better than the first one.”
“If I do, I think it might kill me. I loved every single filthy word of the first one. You said clit five times and I was so proud of you. Say cunt next time? For me? Please?”
“Gabriel.”
“Fine. Pussy?”
She rolled her eyes, but her heart was racing with excitement and she enjoyed how much her words seemed to affect him. “If I say it, will you be able to die in peace?”
“Yes,” he groaned. “Please.”
“I wish you weren’t in prison so you could touch my pussy.”
“Now I’m dead. You’ve killed me with your dirty talk.”
She giggled and pushed down on the urge to tell him she loved him for what felt like the dozenth time. The words were heavy on her tongue, desperate to get out, but she knew it wasn’t fair to him to say it. She wasn’t sure yet if they were true and even if they were, she’d already asked for too much from him when they both knew how it would inevitably end.
She sat with hands twisted in her lap that night, feet tucked up under a blanket as she watched the flames dance in their small living room fireplace. The winters usually didn’t get very cold here, but there had been frost on the ground outside that had crunched under feet when she’d brought in her bags from her last shopping trip before the holidays.
Christmas break seemed shorter than ever this year and she was running out of time.
“Dad?”
He looked up at her from over the top of the book he was reading, nothing more than vague curiosity in his eyes. He had no idea how much she had kept from him, and she suddenly hated herself for not having the courage to speak up sooner.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Oh?” He set his glass on the table and turned in his chair so that he could face her directly. He had always been good about that, about listening with his full attention. She’d never felt like what she had to say was less important to him than anything else he might be doing.
She looked down at her knee. “I changed my major.”
“You did?” His brows drew together in concern. “You didn’t talk to me about it?”
“I wanted to have at least one semester of my grades to show you before I told you. It’s a very competitive and demanding field, I wanted you to know I could handle it.”
“What did you change it to?”
“Political science.” She winced when it came out sounding more like a question than an answer. “I want to go to law school.”
“Law school is expensive,” he said slowly. “And as you said, very competitive. Have you thought about what your life would look like if you do this? How would you manage a home and a family with that kind of schedule?”
“Maybe I’m not worried about having a family,” she asked. She wanted it to sound bold, revolutionary, but they both knew her better than that.
“Mia …”
“I know,” she sighed. “I want a family, but I can do both. It might be challenging but it’s possible.”
“Does this have something to do with a boy?”
“Dad …”
“I thought you had a thing with James but then he stopped coming around, so—”
“It’s not James.”
“But there is a boy?”
“Not really,” she hedged. She’d never lied to him when his eyes narrowed on her face, and she squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s just …you know the pen pal program? Remember? Mrs. Newberry threw a fit about it?”
“I remember,” he said. “She was convinced that putting young and impressionable minds in contact with criminals would lead to nothing but bad things.”
‘Well, I think it’s led to something really amazing instead.” She rushed ahead as he opened his mouth to speak, praying she could make him understand that she understood the futility but couldn’t change her feelings. “He’s so good to me, so sweet.”
Her father shook his head and buried his face in his hands. She’d never seen him look so confused and disappointed. “Didn’t you tell me that this man was in prison for something terrible? Murder? You said he was never getting out.”
“He probably isn’t,” she admitted. “I know there’s probably no future for us but it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Well, it should, Mia.” She flinched as he raised his voice, something he’d never done before. “It should matter to you. First you decide out of nowhere you want to be a lawyer and now this? As long as you’re wasting time on him you won’t have a family or a real home. He can’t give you a life. You’d be throwing it all away, for what?”
“I don’t know.” She clutched her knees, curled into herself as her hands began to shake. “I just know he makes me happy.”
“I wanted a good life for you, not this empty shell that you’re trying to create. Your mother—”
“Was an amazing person, but I’m not Mom.”
“No, I can see that.”
Mia recoiled, his words hitting directly in her chest and stealing her breath.
He sighed and rubbed the tension in his temples with his fingers. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I know how much you loved her and how proud she was of you. I just don’t think she would support what you’re doing, and I don’t see how I possibly can.”
“Dad—”
Her words were cut off when the doorbell rang, and they both looked at one another in confusion. It was late and the roads were icy, neither of them had been expecting company.
He rose quickly, hurrying to the door with Mia close behind him as the doorbell rang again, fast and desperate.
“It could be someone who lost control of their car and ended up stuck in the ditch,” Mia speculated. “The roads were getting slick when I came home earlier.”
But he opened the door to a familiar face, not a stranger.
“Ms. Daniels? Are you okay? Mia, honey, grab her stuff off the porch. What’s going on?”
He pulled Kennedy in out of the cold, her nose and cheeks red from the biting wind and her eyes puffy and watery from the tears that were freezing on her lashes. At her feet were two small bags, stuffed to overflowing with clothes.
She didn’t answer his questions, eyes searching wildly until she found Mia and then launching herself forward into Mia’s arms.
Mia caught her and shot her father a confused look as she tried to guide her friend into the warmth of the living room. “Hey, let’s get you warm, okay? Did you walk here?”
Kennedy nodded, hiccupping through her sobs.
“Dad, can you grab her a blanket? She’s freezing.”
It took them almost half an hour, several blankets, and a cup of hot cocoa to get her warmed up and calmed down enough to answer their questions about what happened.
“They kicked me out,” she said dully, staring into the fire and refusing to look at Pastor Anderson.
“Your parents?”
Kennedy nodded, looking at Mia with fresh tears brimming in her eyes. “Someone saw me in Abilene. I finally got brave enough to go on a date and I guess they told my parents.”
Mia looked at her dad, at the confusion on his face. He wasn’t putting it together just yet. “She was on a date with a girl,” Mia whispered.
His brows drew together, and Kennedy’s lip trembled, expecting the worst. “So, they kicked you out into the cold, with nothing but two bags of clothes? They made you walk to … Did they even know where you were going? That you would have somewhere to go? Or were they expecting you to sleep outside tonight?”
“I don’t know. They took my phone so I couldn’t call anyone. Told me they were paying for it and they wouldn’t be spending any more money on …” she wiped her face on her sleeve as another round of tears began. “They called me names,” she finished.
“And you came here,” Pastor Anderson said.
Kennedy nodded. “Mia told me I could if something ever happened. She said that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the streets because I’m … because I like girls.” She looked up at him, waiting to see if Mia was right or if she was about to be kicked out into the cold for the second time that night.
“Of course, you can come here,” he said, patting her hand reassuringly. “We have an extra bedroom upstairs and Mia can help you get settled. I’ll go by your parent’s place tomorrow and see if they’ll give me the rest of your clothes and personal items.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Let’s get you settled, and Mia can find you something to eat if you’re hungry.” His voice was calm, but Mia knew that was only for Kennedy’s sake. She could feel the anger he was trying not to show.
She smiled at him gratefully as she grabbed Kennedy’s bags. Their own disagreement lay fresh and unhealed between them, but she knew that he would never do this, no matter how much he disliked her decisions. He loved her, and they would work it out.
In the meantime, he would have some unpleasant words for Kennedy’s parents about their failures as parents and as Christians, both of which required them to love their daughter unconditionally and not throw her out of their home.
She got Kennedy settled and tucked into her new bed and then crept back downstairs to find him still sitting in his chair, staring pensively into the fire.
“Is she alright?” he asked when he looked up and found her standing hesitantly in the doorway.
“Yes, she’s sleeping.”
“I’m glad you told her to come here. I hate to think what might have happened to her otherwise.”
She sat down on the couch again, tugging the blanket over her legs, and waited.
“I still don’t know that I agree with the choices that you’re making,” he spoke slowly, carefully weighing each word, “but I owe it to you to hear you out about why you think these things will make you happy.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“And even if I hear all those reasons and I still think that you’re wrong, I’m always going to love you.”
“I know and I love you, too.”
He came home the following day red in the face and trembling with anger, but he had several more trash bags stuffed full of Kennedy’s clothes and a new phone for her on their family plan.
Mia hugged him, tucking her head under his chin and giving him a quick squeeze before she headed to the kitchen to make lunch. Kennedy smiled twice as they ate sandwiches with chips, and they all relaxed just a little. Kennedy was going to be upset and hurt because of what happened, but those horrible people wouldn’t be able to destroy her happiness forever.
She’d just finished the dishes, volunteering so that her dad and Kennedy could sit down in the living room and talk privately about what happened when he confronted her parents, when Gabriel called.
She rushed up the stairs to her room, not missing how her dad’s eyes now followed her as she went.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby, how’s everything? Did you talk to your dad?”
“Yeah, I did.” She sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed. “I ended up telling him about everything, about you and about school. He wasn’t happy about any of it.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, things kind of took an unexpected turn while we were talking.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, struggling against a rising headache and her own confusion about how anyone’s parents could be so cruel. “My friend is staying with us now because her parents found out she was dating girls.”
There was a silence on the other end of the line, a cold and weighted pause that she didn’t understand.
“They found out she was … and now she’s living with you and your dad? The pastor?”
“Yeah, she’s—”
“And you’re okay with that?” His tone was accusatory, his voice rising in anger. She felt like she was being held responsible for some crime, but she couldn’t figure out what he thought she had done. “She’s your friend, Mia.”
“Yes?” Mia felt her own voice rising, uncertainty making her defensive. “She’s one of my best friends that’s why—”
“What about your dad?”
“What about him? Her parents kicked her out of their house with no phone and nowhere to go so we gave her a place to stay. She was pretty shaken up when she got here but she’s safe and she has her own room.”
He sighed and there was a long pause like he was trying to decide what to say. Just when she began to wonder if he was going to answer at all he said, “I’m glad she has you.”
“I don’t understand—”
“I know you don’t,” he agreed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that not everyone has a safe place to go. Some people I cared about when I was younger weren’t so lucky.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, nibbling on her lip. He’d never told her exactly what had happened to him and she’d been afraid to ask for details. “Do you want to talk about it?”
There was a pause long enough for her to hope then a soft defeated sigh. “Not yet.”
“Okay,” she whispered. Not yet, but hopefully he would be able to share everything with her someday soon.