My father stopped dead in his tracks. I hadn’t even meant for the word to get said out loud. But whether my subconscious had purposefully done it or it was a genuine accident, I now had a full-blown argument on my hands. My father scowled at me.
“No, what, Elizabeth?”
Be strong. It’s scary, but you’ll be better off. Fight back.
“No, Dad, I can choose whom I want to see. I’m a grown woman.”
“You live in my house; you abide by my rules.”
“I…”
I almost accepted defeat. I almost nodded, feeling like I had no comeback for that. But that just wasn’t true. Tara had shown me as much.
“Then I will get my own place and make my own rules.”
“What is this insolence?” my father said, throwing up his hands, his voice raising. “We will not stand for this attitude, Elizabeth.”
“You will; you have no choice to.”
Now that the dam had had a crack large enough for water to start flowing through, nothing else had any foundation to remain upon. Everything was crumbling. I was finally breaking free.
“Elizabeth Rogers, your sister has already chosen to show her disdain for everything I have done for the two of you and left herself out of NME Services future. Do not make the same mistake she did.”
“Mistake? It’s not a mistake, Dad!”
I was losing control of myself, but in a way, it was about damn time. I had fought so hard to be perfect for so long, I kind of wanted to let loose a little, to let my father see that I wasn’t perfect, nowhere close to it.
“It’s not a mistake to be my own independent woman, to make my own choices,” I said. “So what if they’re not ‘perfect?’ I’d rather make my own imperfect choices than follow your perfect orders.”
“This is outrageous,” my father said, calming himself down. He probably figured that he would ultimately get me to bend to his will, and that his voice rising was a mistake. He was wrong. “You will go up to your room, we will talk about this tomorrow, and we will consider taking you out of Santa Maria, if that’s what it takes.”
His tone, so authoritative and forceful, again almost got me to agree with him. It was easier said than done to buck twenty-five years of doing everything he said and sucking up to him as much as I could. But doing so was no longer impossible.
“I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m a grown woman now, and I can make my own choices.”
Actually, I had kind of pigeon-holed myself tonight. Either I was going to stay here and follow the choice my father had made, or I was going to leave and hope that Tara was still awake and willing to let me sleep on her couch—to say nothing of the pain in the ass of parking downtown.
But like I had said, even a bad choice on my part was better than a “good choice” made by my father. Agency was beginning to matter to me that much.
“Elizabeth Rogers, you will think very carefully about your next decision, because it will have far-reaching ramifications beyond just this evening.”
I thought about it. I really did.
If I stayed, I’d get some scolding in the morning, an admonishment to make better choices, and a demand to apologize to someone who had done so much for me. It would suck, but I’d keep my job, and everything else would more or less remain the same.
If I left, there were no guarantees I’d even get to go back to my room, I’d get to keep my job, or that I’d get to keep anything in my possession other than my bank account—which, yes, was healthy compared to those of most twenty-five-year-olds, but it wasn’t like I could just retire and buy a house in New Mexico.
But as the rest of the night had gone, it came down to one simple fact. One path was paved by me. The other was not.
I reached into my pocket, found my car keys, and walked out the door.
“Elizabeth!” my father shouted, but I shut the door behind me before he could say anything more.
I didn’t know which was ballsier, my making out with Steele or my defiance of my father, but both felt pretty good.
It was just too bad that I was beginning to realize I might never see them again regularly.
I bit my lip as I got in my car, pulling out of the driveway much more glumly than I had hoped, and called Tara.
