It was deeper than that. She hated facing her folks at all. But it had to be done.
Vince placed his hand on her inner thigh, sliding it up against her vagina, and squeezed. He wanted to do her again, which he knew was inappropriate in the extreme given what she’d just been through, but he couldn’t help it. But he wanted to comfort her more. “You’ll be alright,” he said to her.
But when she directed him to turn down a long driveway that led to a large, ranch-style red-brick home at the end of that drive, her heart began to hammer and her palms began to sweat. She was going home for the first time in years.
Everything looked so different.
Everything felt the same.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It was a beautiful home and a beautiful spread. “How many acres?” Vince asked Ricki as he drove toward the house.
“Seventeen. If Daddy hasn’t sold off any.”
“Very nice.” Then he looked at her. “Why didn’t you ask your folks to help you when you were struggling? It’s obvious they could have done something to help.”
But he could tell that was a nonstarter for Ricki. “No way,” she said.
“May I ask why not?”
But Ricki had too much to worry about as it was. “I told you why,” she said. “I didn’t obey my daddy and he disowned me. That’s how he is. I know that doesn’t sound like enough to you, but that’s the way it is.”
Then she realized something. She knew nothing about Vince’s background. “Where are your folks?” she asked him.
“Wherever they want to be,” he responded. Then he looked at her. “I haven’t seen them in years either.”
They stared at each other longer. “Finally,” she said, “we have something in common.”
It was so on-point that Vince smiled. “Yes, we do,” he said, and kept on driving to the main house.
After he stopped just behind a Cadillac and parked, a handsome young black man who appeared to be in his early thirties walked out of the house and stood at the porch rail. There was something creepy about him, but Vince held his peace as he walked around and opened the passenger door for Ricki.And then they walked, with Vince’s hand on her back, toward the porch and the young man.
“Hey Davey,” Ricki said with an attempt at a smile.
“What are you doing here?” No warmth whatsoever, Vince noticed.
“Where’s Mommy and Daddy?”
“In the house. Where else? Daddy just got home for lunch from his office, and Mommy’s fixing his plate.”
“I need to talk to them.”
“What about?”
“That’s none of your business, young man,” Vince said. “Let her in.”
Ricki was surprised by the harsh way he was talking to her brother, and she looked at him. She didn’t like it. “It is his business,” she said. “She was his sister too.”
Vince had forgotten he wasn’t in his world where he dominated every conversation and every person and had no time for foolishness. This was Ricki’s world. Her family in fact. He shut up.
“What do you mean she was my sister too?” Davey asked Ricki.
“Has the police been here?”
“The police? No. Why would the police be here?”
Ricki, and therefore Vince, began walking up the steps. “I need to tell Mommy and Daddy first.”
