11. Eleven
ELEVEN
H arley
I really hate Sunday dinners with my parents. I wish that I could avoid them all together. But my full scholarship doesn’t cover everything. It doesn’t cover the dorm that I get to live in or all my food costs. Not to mention, I wouldn’t be able to pay for my phone without their money.
I sigh heavily when Arthur pulls up in the black sedan. I made sure to be waiting outside this time. If I’m late again, I’m sure that there will be repercussions. Ones that I really don’t want to endure if I can avoid it.
My parents have never laid a hand on me. But my mother has always known all my sensitive spots and can pack a punch with every word that leaves her mouth. I’m terrified of them pulling me out of school and making me go back to BCU.
Arthur steps out, rounding the front of the SUV. “Good evening, Miss Thomas. How are you this evening?”
I smile up at him. “I’m just fine, Arthur. And you?”
“Just fine, Miss Thomas.”
He opens the back door, allowing me to slide into the seat before closing it behind me and returning to his place behind the wheel. I notice how tired his eyes look when he glances at me in the rearview mirror before pulling out of the parking lot.
My stomach twists and I feel like I already know the answer to my question before I ask it. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I croak out, “How are those mangos today, Arthur?”
His eyes flick to me. “Extra spicy today, Miss Thomas.”
I drop my head back to the headrest and train my gaze out the window. A forty minute drive is not nearly long enough to prepare me for what I might be walking into. My lip trembles, so I tuck it beneath my teeth and choke down my fear.
My phone buzzes in my purse. Sighing, I reach down and shuffle through the bag until I find it. Unlocking the screen, I open the new text message.
Unknown : Has anyone told you that your knack for saying fruits and vegetables instead of curse words is the most adorable thing in the world?
Me: Umm. No? Who is this?
Unknown: I’ll give you one hint. And if you guess wrong, you’ll have to live with never knowing.
Me: Hmm. I think I’ll take you up on that challenge.
Unknown: You have the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. And that tongue, it’s wicked. Dangerous even.
Me: That was two hints, Zayden.
Unknown: Damn. You’re good at this guessing game, Davidson.
I shake my head, chuckling softly to myself as I save his name in my phone as Fantastic Hockey Butt.
Me: You didn’t make it very difficult.
Fantastic Hockey Butt: I guess I’ll have to change my number and make it harder next time. What are you doing?
Me: I am headed to my parents for our weekly dinner.
Fantastic Hockey Butt: Sounds fun. I got your number from Alicia. I hope that’s okay.
Me: She mentioned something about that Friday night when she finally came back to the dorms.
Fantastic Hockey Butt: Ah. So, you were expecting me then?
Me: Nah. I wasn’t holding my breath.
Fantastic Hockey Butt: Ouch. You’ve wounded me.
Me: War is still on, hockey jockey. I look forward to battles with you.
Fantastic Hockey Butt: You’re on, Davidson. I never back down from a challenge.
Me: Good. I would be disappointed if you did.
“We are here, Miss Thomas,” Arthur informs me.
I tuck my phone back into my purse and take a deep breath. Spicy Mangos, spicy mangos, spicy mangos. Once Arthur opens my door, I give him a weak smile and walk up the steps to my parent’s estate.
Before Sally can even get the door open, I can already hear my mother’s shrill screaming. I cringe just as Sally comes into view. Her eyes are downcast and there’s a flush to her cheeks.
“Good evening, Miss Thomas,” she says in a shaky voice.
“Watermelons,” I breathe out.
Sally isn’t usually ruffled by my mother’s antics. Which means that the mangos are so incredibly spicy tonight. I hand Sally my coat and purse. Making my way to the dining room, I finally start to register my mother’s words as she screams at what I’m assuming is my father.
“It’s an embarrassment!”
“I’ll take care of it,” my father says calmly.
“Take care of it?” She screeches. “You were caught with your pants around your stupid ankles and your pathetic cock shoved down a seventeen-year-old girl’s throat, Charles!”
Oh. My. God. I stop walking, turning to look at Sally who is still standing by the door, frozen in place. Her eyes meet mine, likely mirroring the horror in my own.
“Get in there. You don’t want to put her wrath on you, Miss Thomas,” Sally hisses through her teeth.
She’s right, I don’t. But I can’t make my feet move. The silver stilettos I wore today are rooted to the hallway floor. And then my father responds, and I feel like I’m going to puke.
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Natalie. She wasn’t on her knees by force.”
“She’s younger than your daughter! And a minor, you stupid fucking fool!” The sound of glass shattering follows her shouting.
I turn to a potted fern just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. The sound of my wretches echoes down the hall and into the dining room. I faintly register the distinct sound of my mother’s heels clicking on the tile floors.
“Great, look at what you’ve done,” she scolds, and I know her words are most definitely directed at me now. My mother snaps her fingers. “Sally, clean up Harley’s mess.”
Her hand wraps around my bicep, attempting to pull me away from the fern. I hold up a shaky hand. Wiping my mouth with the other, I stand and look my mother in the eye. Sally comes up behind me and has likely already put my things away.
“Sally, I would like you to get me my purse and coat,” I say as firmly as possible.
“I, uh, Miss Thomas you have yet to attend dinner,” Sally rushes out.
“Circumstances have made me unable to attend,” I tell her, not breaking eye contact with my mother.
I can see the fury growing to catastrophic heights in her steely gaze, but I refuse to back down. I yank my arm from her grasp and step back toward the door. She raises her nose in the air.
“Sally, please get my daughter her coat and purse. Make sure to escort her to the car to ensure that she makes it there safely in her current condition.”
“Yes, Mrs. Thomas,” Sally replies.
Her arm wraps around my shoulders. For the first time, I find comfort in Sally’s presence. She turns me back toward the entrance of the foyer while the sound of my mother’s retreating footsteps ricochet off the walls.
“You’re shaking,” Sally whispers, grabbing my coat and purse.
I am. My whole body is convulsing under the pressure of keeping myself together. I want to scream. Sally drapes my coat over my shoulders and replaces her arm around me. I let her usher me back outside.
As soon as Arthur sees us, his face immediately falls. I know that he likely had no clue that I was going to walk into my parent’s conducting The Battle of Gettysburg in the dining room. He quickly opens the back door. Sally hands me my purse after helping me inside. Her face is full of sorrow.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Thomas.”
“Don’t. You didn’t do this,” I assure her. It’s not something I should have to do, but I know that my mother is likely taking this situation out on every person within the four walls of my childhood home.
Sally nods before turning and making her way back inside. As soon as Arthur shuts the door, I let the dam break. My shoulders shake with the force of my sobs.
My father has never been faithful to my mother. That’s something that has never been a secret. But now to add to his infidelity, he’s also a pedophile. And from the sounds of it, he has no remorse for the crimes he’s committed.
Arthur pulls out of the driveway. The drive back to KRU feels much longer than it normally does. He remains silent the entire time, letting me cry without judgment. The sedan pulls up in front of my dorm and slows to a stop.
I watch Arthur reach down to the floor of the passenger seat before pulling a bottle of top shelf whiskey from below. He hands it to me. “Got it before I picked you up today, Miss Thomas. Figured tonight would be rough, but I didn’t think…” His voice cracks before he trails off. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry.” I give him a watery smile before taking the bottle from his grasp. “I’ll drink to you tonight.”
He smiles back at me sadly. “Goodnight, Miss Thomas.”
“Goodnight, Arthur.”
The fall air is brisk, but I still opt to walk over to the open field next to my dorm instead of going inside. The sunset is beautiful tonight. I’d rather drink my night away to the orange and pink hues than on my bed in my dorm anyways.