I sat on the living room floor, watching as my parents ate their last slices of pizza. Mom daintily finished off her final bite, perfect white teeth flashing, then wiped the grease residue gently from her face with a napkin. At her look, Dad nodded his head quickly, shoved the last remnants of his slice into his mouth then wiped his hands on his pants.
I studied them, wondering how they fell in love when there was such a contrast between them. Mom was always so proper. Dad, on the other hand, had me wondering if he wasn't raised in the northern forests, surrounded by he-man lumberjacks who held daily snot rocket competitions.
Shaking my thoughts away, I put down my half eaten slice and leaned back against a box.
“So, as we were saying before, if you talk to the therapist, and I mean talk, then your mother and I will buy you a car. You'll be responsible for paying for the gas and insurance of course—'
“And it won't be anything new.”
“Unless your mother can 'talk' the salesman down.” He emphasized 'talk' in such a way that it made me wonder if Mom was secretly a prostitute or a master of torture. I hoped it was torture.
“But, it will be enough to give you the freedom that you've been wanting for the past year,” she continued. “It's a win-win situation Star, so please just think it over—”
“I mean, you really wouldn't want to have us drop you off everywhere, would you? We'd be sure to make every exchange as embarrassing as possible for you—”
“Your father doesn't mean that, we'd never do that to you. Well, he probably would, but I'd try my best to restrain him.” She finished with a shrug and a tight smile.
I was bemused. I wasn't even arguing, yet they were going on and on like they thought I would. They were right to assume as much, but they couldn't pick a better bribe than that of freedom. I held up my hand to stall their further arguments.
“You do realize that this is bribery, right? And with Dads threat it moves it up a notch to blackmail?” Mom cast her eyes downward while Dad turned a lovely shade of red.
“We don't like to look at it that way.” Mom said softly, still refusing to look at me.
“Of course you wouldn't. It's unseemly to be like normal parents and use guilt and coercion to get your bratty kid to straighten up.”
“Star, you're not a brat. You just have some issues.”
“Oh, issues. I see. Isn't that just a polite term for crazy?” I asked Dad with a raised brow.
Seeing the amused gleam in my eyes, Dad jumped right into the fun. “You know, you may be right.”
Mom paled visibly. “Of course that's not what I meant! I'd never— Star, you're not—” she trailed off and waved her hands helplessly, her mouth opening and closing but nothing was coming out.
I took mercy on her and motioned for her to stop. “Well, since you put it that way— Okay.”
“Seriously?” Dad asked.
“Yup. You used the one thing I couldn't turn down. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it.”
“You're not going to wail about it? Give us a lecture about the injustice of it all and how we're just determined to throw you into an asylum with all the other crazies? Are you sure you don't want to— oomph!” Dad rubbed his ribs while Mom sat with an innocent look on her face like she didn't just elbow him.
“This is great, pumpkin! You'll see that it won't be as bad as you're imagining.” Her obvious delight was bubbling over, causing a blinding smile to spread across her face.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're happy, I'll be happy, it's the right thing to do. Now, let's get down to the good part. When do we go car shopping?”
“Well, we can go out tomorrow after we unpack some, then afterward you can check out the town, look for potential job opportunities.” Mom was beaming at me like I was the best thing since sliced bread.
“They’ll work.” I stood up and stretched. “I'll leave you guys to your bubble of happiness. Night.” Giving them a small wave, I headed toward my room
I sighed as I looked at my own oasis of solitude. Maybe they were right. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
Chapter Four
I jerked awake as an insistent shrilling noise blared beside my head. I searched for my phone, my ears demanded that I shut it up. Or destroy it. Either one would do. I gave the offending piece of technology an icy glare when I finally found it. “Well, I'm awake now you piece of—”
“Star, honey! It's time to wake up!” Mom's shout shook me out of my death stare. I yawned and stretched cat-like across my bed, feeling soothed by the morning rays warmly caressing my sleepy body. A smile spread across my face as I thought about our car shopping today, but my smile faded as I thought about job hunting. I wasn't a snob and didn't have any aversions to working. I just wasn't looking forward to working whatever type of job a small town like this had to offer. It definitely didn't rank high on my list of happy thoughts. With that little kernel of misery added to the million already residing in my mind, I braced myself for what lay ahead.
Mom was manning the stove when I walked in, which was never a good thing. I cringed as I smelled the first whiff of burnt bacon. I hoped there would at least something edible. Ah ha! Toast! Sauntering up to the island, I hopped up to sit on top of the granite. Grabbing a piece of toast, I frowned when I noticed the toast was almost completely black. I sighed, dropping the toast back onto the plate, staring in surprise when it made an audible bang.
“Oh, there you are honey. Go ahead and fix yourself a plate, I'm just finishing up the bacon.” She motioned with the spatula toward the array of burnt food.
“Mom, you love me, right?” I began swinging my legs back and forth while giving her my best pleading look.
Turning around, she leaned against the stove, disregarding the smoke rising behind her. “Of course I do. Why would you ask that Star?”
“Well, are you trying to poison me?”
“Of course not! What gave you that ridiculous idea?”
“It's simple really, you're cooking.”
“Hey now, I know I'm not the best cook, but it won't kill you to eat anything!”
I smirked as I lifted up the piece of toast and held it out toward her. “Seriously?” Dropping it to the floor the 'toast' shattered, wicked looking shards skating across the tile. I grinned at my mother's look of horror. She couldn't cook to save her life, but I always loved the fact that she tried so hard to create a home cooked meal. It was sweet, if dangerous.
“Valid point. Breakfast menu at McDonald's or breakfast at a local cafe? She turned off the burner and threw the pan dejectedly into the sink.
“McDonald's!” Dad yelled, startling both of us. I grinned as I turned to look at the doorway where my father was standing. “You were waiting for that this whole time, weren't you? No, don't you dare give me that look! I know what you're up to Mr.” I snorted as mom shook the spatula threateningly at him.
“Are spatulas considered a deadly weapon?” He asked me while eying mom with trepidation.
I hid my smile and turned toward mom. “Depends on the thrust and trajectory I suppose.”
“Well, I guess the food wasn't meant to kill us after all, just debilitate us long enough to where she could finish the job herself.” He moved quickly out of the way as the spatula hit right where his head was.
“I'll show you assault with a deadly weapon! Paul, get your butt back here!” I burst out laughing as mom untied her apron and chased after him.
“Now children, no fighting” I yelled after them. I stopped short and looked away in embarrassment as I witnessed Dad bending Mom over his arm and kissing her senseless. “Jesus H! Mom, Dad, do I need to have 'the talk' with you? Please keep the PDA down to a minimum!”