Chapter 18 - Caught

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I got to the library a few minutes after nine. It wasn't just closed, it was totally dark. Dad's Camry was the only car in the lot. I cursed, then knocked on his window.

Dad jumped. When he saw it was me, he rolled down the glass. “Where have you been? The library closes at eight!”

 Oops. “Um, yeah, I forgot. I went to Starbuck's to work on my report.”

Dad shook his head. “No, you didn't. Starbuck's closes at eight too. That's where I went after I dropped you off.”

“Oh.”

“'Oh' is right,” he said. “Get in the car.”

I walked to the passenger side and climbed in. I smelled beer, and at first I thought it was me, but it was coming from Dad. What the flip?

Dad said, “We're not leaving until you tell me where you were.”

I looked at the floor, my hands, anywhere but him. “It's just that . . . look, you promise you won't get mad?”

“I can't promise anything. Stop stalling and start talking.”

“OK, I didn't come to use the library.”

“No?” He was scowling almost as good as Mom.

“A friend asked me to come over.”

“What friend?” Dad demanded. “It's not a boy, is it?”

I squirmed in my seat until the truth came tumbling out. “No, Dad. It was Faith. I came to see Faith.”

“Cindy, I don't want you getting mixed up with that girl again. She's trouble.”

“That's just it! She's fine now, and I wouldn't have to sneak around if you guys hadn't made me cut her out of my life. We didn't even have a chance to say goodbye. Do you know how hard that's been? She was my best friend."

Dad rubbed his temples in frustration.

“Anyway,” I continued, “all we did was talk. Please don't tell Mom.”

Dad turned the key in the ignition. “Honestly,” he said, “I'm not sure what to do. You know how your mother and I feel about that horror stuff. We don't want you acting and dressing weird again. You're better than that, honey.”

“Lots of people like horror,” I said, “so how bad can it be?”

Dad pulled out of the parking lot. We crossed the Fifth Avenue Bridge leaving downtown behind. It started to rain, just a few drops, then so hard we could barely see.

“Daddy? I'm sorry I lied.”

He smiled. “I guess I never really thought about how unfair it was to cut you two off like that, but you need to understand that when Faith tried to commit suicide, your mom and I were really scared. We thought keeping you apart was for the best.”

“I know. I just miss Faith, that's all. Is it all right if I see her again?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Really?” I said. “You mean it?”

He glanced at me. “That doesn't mean yes.”

The wipers slashed. More streets passed by, wet blurs in the night. “What about Mom?” I asked. “Are you gonna tell her?”

Dad sighed. “I don't know, but I need you to promise not to sneak around anymore.”

I promised, and as much as I wanted to mean it, I knew it was a lie.

Dad and I heard Mom talking as we came into the house. Her office door was ajar, yellow light spilling into the hall.

Mom said, “I'm telling you, Alicia, you don't know the stress I've been under lately. The more I give, the more they take.”

We'd caught her Skyping with my aunt. Dad and I exchanged a look, neither of us sure what to do. We froze in place, listening.

“Well,” Alicia said, “Roger gave me plenty of space, and you know how that turned out. Maybe I deserve it for spending more time writing than with him.”

Mom snorted. “I guess neither of us got 'happily ever after,' did we?”

Alicia coughed politely. “So how's your novel coming?”

“The first draft's almost done,” Mom said, “but it's hard to write about the glitter of New York from boring old Olympia. I was really counting on coming to see you this month.”

“Maybe when your finances are more settled?”

“Ugh! Like that'll ever happen. There's never enough for anything I need.”

“You could get another job,” Alicia said. “Especially if you're serious about a divorce.”

Dad put his arm around me, and I could tell he was just as shocked as I was.

Mom said, “If I get a job, I'll never find time to write! Don is absolutely no help, and don't get me started on Cindy. Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder if—”

Before she could finish, Dad slammed the front door, shouting, “Hi, honey! We're home!”

“Wonderful!” Mom called in a fake cheerful voice. “I'm in here, you two. Come say hello to Aunt Alicia.”

I pushed open her office door, and Dad followed me in. My aunt smiled at us from the computer screen. Like Mom and me, Alicia shared our ash blonde hair and blue-gray eyes, but where Mom's face was pinched and thin, Alicia's was plump and happy.

“Cindy!” Alicia said. “You look beautiful. How are you, dear?”

“Pretty good.” I tried to smile, but it felt awkward.

“And how's school?” she asked. “Still getting good grades?”

“Uh-huh. Mostly B's, but I got an A in English.”

“That's my girl!” Alicia said. “Did your mother show you Night Scandal yet?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I haven't read the whole thing, but I already like it more than Sword of Passion or Love Among the Pirates.”

Alicia laughed. “You should be a critic. I could use a few more of those on my side.” My aunt checked her watch. “Oh my, look at the time! I've got to be up early for a meeting with my agent. Love you all. Take care.”

“Love you too,” I said. “Goodnight, Aunt Alicia."

Mom ended the call and swiveled in her chair to face us. “It's after nine,” she said. “Doesn't the library close at eight?”

Dad came to my defense. “We got coffee and drove around looking at Christmas lights. We wanted to give you time to write.”

“That was nice of you,” Mom said. “Would it be all right if I wrap up the chapter I'm working on?”

“Sure. C'mon, Pumpkin, let's have some ice cream.” Dad shut the office door behind us.

In the kitchen, Dad scooped creamy French vanilla into bowls, piling it high. A million delicious calories to kill the pain. He kept his voice low. “I'm sorry you had to hear that. Hell, I'm sorry I had to hear it!”

“Is it true? Are you guys getting a divorce?”

“No. We'll work it out. Everything will be fine, you'll see.”

I popped the cap off the chocolate syrup and squeezed velvety darkness into our bowls. “Well, if you do get divorced, I don't wanna live with Mom. I want to live with you.”

Dad said, “It won't come to that.” But by the way he hugged me, I knew it would.

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© 2014 Jackson Dean Chase. All Rights Reserved.

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