“Actually,” I said, standing up, “I was hoping to talk to Mom alone for a few minutes. Catch up on family stuff.”
My father’s expression darkened. “Family stuff? I’m family too.”
“Of course you are. I just thought—”
“You thought what? That your mother and I keep secrets from each other?” He moved closer to me, and I could smell the beer on his breath even though it wasn’t even noon. “We don’t have secrets in this family, son. We never have.”
But as he said it, I saw my mother flinch, and I realized that was exactly what they had. An entire relationship built on things that were never said and feelings that were never acknowledged. Club business.
How many times had I heard those words growing up? “Club business, Ellen.” My father’s standard response whenever my mother asked where he’d been, who he’d been with, why he smelled like perfume that wasn’t hers. I’d watched her face go blank, watched her swallow whatever she’d been about to say, watched her nod and turn away.
I’d thought that was normal. Thought that was what strength looked like—a woman who understood that some things weren’ther concern, who trusted her man to handle his business without questioning him.
Now, looking at the defeat in my mother’s eyes, I realized it wasn’t strength at all. It was resignation. It was the look of someone who’d learned that asking questions only led to fights she couldn’t win, so she’d stopped asking.
“You’re right,” I said, forcing myself to sit back down. “No secrets.”
My father seemed satisfied with that, but the tension in the room remained thick. We ate lunch in uncomfortable silence, my mother picking at her food while my father dominated the conversation with stories about his glory days as president.
“You know,” he said as my mother cleared the plates, “I heard through the grapevine that you and that girl broke up.”
I stiffened. “Where did you hear that?”
“Word travels fast in our world. Can’t say I’m surprised, though. Civilians never last long once they figure out what the life is really like.”
“She wasn’t just some civilian,” I said, though even as the words came out, I realized how weak they sounded.
“She sure as hell wasn’t one of us,” my father replied. “Too uppity. Too educated. Women like that think they’re too good for men like us.”
“Maybe she was too good for me.”
My father laughed, but there was no humor in it. “No woman is too good for a Van Der Berg. That’s your problem, son. You put her on a pedestal instead of keeping her in line.”
“Keeping her in line?”
“Exactly. You let her think she had a say in how you lived your life. You let her think her opinion mattered when it came to club business.”
I thought about Indira’s face when I’d told her that what I did with club girls wasn’t her business. The hurt and disbeliefin her eyes when I’d explained that’s just how things worked in my world. “What if her opinion should have mattered?” I asked quietly.
My father’s face went dark. “What the fuck?”
“What if I should have listened to her? What if she was right?”
“Right about what?”
“About everything.” The words came out in a rush. “About fidelity. About respect. About what it means to be in a relationship with someone.”
“Jesus Christ.” My father shook his head in disgust. “She really did a number on you, didn’t she? Got you thinking like some kind of pussy-whipped—”
“Don’t.” The word came out sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Like what? Like she’s some feminist bitch who convinced you to throw away everything your family built?”
I stood up so fast my chair fell over backward. “She didn’t convince me of anything. She just expected me to treat her like she mattered.”
“And that’s exactly the problem!” My father was on his feet now too, his face red with anger. “The moment you start treating women like equals, you lose all your power. They start thinking they can tell you what to do, who you can fuck, how you can live your life.”
“Maybe she should have had a say in who else I fucked.” The words exploded out of me before I could stop them. My father stared at me like I’d grown a second head, while my mother had gone completely still by the sink.
