“No time for that,” my father’s voice boomed from the opening between the two rooms. “You’re already late. Sit,” he commanded. “You can shower after we eat.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered robotically.
Taking my seat—also robotically, as I did everything lately—I kept my eyes glued to the floral pattern of the tablecloth.
“Hands.” We’d been fighting so much lately, communicating with me was now reduced to as few words as possible.
Working my hands under the warm water, I gathered I was still lucky he even used the single word to talk to me. After the argument we had this morning before school, I figured I would have only been worthy of a chin nod and a grunt.
After returning to my seat, my mom served the food. Looking up at her as she spooned some kind of soupy casserole onto my father’s plate, I wondered if she was happy. I could never tell. Lobotomized was more like it. But it wasn’t exactly an easy conversation to start.
“Mom, are you happy with the stoic, cold, heartless man you married? Or is your face just stuck like that?”
That line of conversation made me chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” he snipped, wiping the corner of his thin mouth with a napkin.
Shaking my head, I answered, “Nothing, sir. Sorry. Dinner is delicious, Mom.” All so fucking mechanical. That was how I’d always felt in this family. No matter the house, I was nothing more than a third wheel in their oddly stagnant life.
“Good then,” he said with ice on his breath. “How did the meeting with the recruiter go today?”
This was it. My moment of truth. Closing my eyes, I thought of Jude and what he would tell me. His words from earlier echoing in my head, I told myselffuck it.
“I didn’t meet with him,” I admitted, trying my best to keep my voice even and steady. Showing weakness wouldn’t help my case. He smelled weakness like dogs smelled fear.
“I’m sorry, but what did you say?” The arctic blast in his tone was the antithesis of the volcanic heat glaring in his eyes.
“I said—”
He cut me off, his voice so loud my mom dropped her fork. Even the clattering of stainless steel against glass wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of his growling voice. “I heard what you said. What I’m not so clear on iswhyyou didn’t meet with him when I specifically called in a favor to have him meet with you today. Do you know what kind of fool that makes me look like?” His chair screeched as he kicked it backward. Standing next to me, he towered over me, and I knew he’d done it just to make me cower and give in to his demands.
Truthfully, I hadn’t thought of that, and his sudden outburst of anger was complicating what I knew would be an already impossible conversation.
“You’re such an ungrateful—” He cut himself off as my stomach twisted in knots. Mom looked at him, her eyes pleading with the words she would never utter.
“Please,” I begged. “Just give me a chance to explain.” Something in my voice calmed him enough to allow him to sit back in his seat.
“Go on,” he answered, ice in his voice.
“I know me joining the army is something you’ve always wanted for me, but what about what I want? Do I get a say at all?” There was so much I didn’t say. I didn’t admit that I’d been lonely my whole life. I couldn’t tell him that I secretly hated him for all the times he moved me around. And there was no way in hell I could ever come out to him and hope that he’d accept it. So instead of all those things, I said, “I just want to go to college. Figure out what I want to do. Get a job. You know, all that stuff that normal kids do.”
Normal.As if such a thing existed.
“And you can do that.” His voice was calm and even.
I knew his next words were going to bein the armyso I cut him off before he could even say them. “But I want to do that without having to fight in a war. Without having to be enlisted, even if it’s only the reserves.”
“There is no war.” He laughed at my reasoning. Resting his elbows on the table, he steepled his fingers. Staring at me, it was as if he was calling my bluff.
“Right now there isn’t. Who the hell knows what’s going to happen in the future.” And if he ever knew the half of the war going on inside my own head . . . Letting that thought trail off, I dug deep for the strength I knew I’d need to get through this conversation. “Isn’t there some way you’d be able to see this from my point of view? I’ve moved from state to state through my entire childhood. Never had a place to call home. Never had any kind of stability in my life. The last thing I want to do is keep doing that. I want to stay in one place for more than six fucking months.”
I hadn’t meant to curse, and if Mom hadn’t gasped on the sound of the word, I might not have even realized it. Waiting for the blow of his anger, especially since I’d broken one of his cardinal rules, I was shocked when I saw some kind of emotion—maybe sorrow—soften the usually hard features of his face.
“We’ll finish this conversation later,” he said, moving from the table. “Beth.” With a nod of his chin, he directed her out of the room.
With his back turned, my Mom leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I’ll try and talk some sense into him, sweetie. I promise.”
As I scraped what was left of my dinner into the trash, I hoped that she would. I hoped that he would understand why this was so important to me. I hoped . . .
Well, I hoped for a lot of things.
But for tonight, I would be happy with the chance to have a say in my own life.
There was a first time for everything, right?
Maybe today was my lucky day.
