Every so often, I shifted my eyes from the hand sitting on my knee, back to my phone. I wanted to break his fingers. Every last one of them. The thumb first. Wanted to bend it back as far as I could before moving on to the other fingers. His hand on my knee made my skin crawl. Literally. Felt like there were little bugs crawling all over me, I was so got damn uncomfortable.
I touched it.
His hand.
Moved it and told him I was okay and that he should put both hands on the steering wheel. He looked over at me, sucked his teeth and told me he was good. That we were good. He had it. Control over the car. I worried a lot… about us on the freeway. So, me telling him to keep his hands on the steering wheel wasn’t out of the ordinary.
“What’s wrong though?” He asked, both hands on the steering wheel.
I exhaled a sigh of relief masked as a sigh of frustration.
“The party,” I lied. “Just want everything to be good.”
“Everything will be good,” he said, running his hand over my thigh.
I swatted it away. Caught him off guard. I didn’t address it. Just looked away, out of the window. He sighed. Probably thought I was the way I was because of our issues. Because of my habit of cringing whenever he touched me. If he could see the deep, deep scowl on my face as I looked out of the window, he would know it was something far worst.
“Ne—”
“Traffic is wild. Keep your hands on the steering wheel when my babies in this car.”
He didn’t say anything. Sighed again and turned the radio up a few octaves. Good.
Diary, Duke’s daughter.
Diary.
What a fitting name.
About fifteen minutes later, we were pulling into the lot at the venue. As soon as we got out of the car, my parents approached. My mother hugged the girls, and Duke while I hugged my daddy. When he tried to let go, I held him tighter. He didn’t give me a look, didn’t ask any questions, just rubbed my back and kissed me on the side of the head.
Why couldn’t Duke be more like him?
I wasn’t saying my daddy was a saint—I was smart enough to know that him and my momma had to have a few skeletons in their closets. But my daddy didn’t do to his family, what Duke was doing to us. It was crazy, how often I compared the two. How bad I wished Duke was more like him. It was saddening, the way I wished my marriage could be as strong as theirs.
But then I thought about it.
I didn’t know shit. Not for real. Who’s to say my mother wasn’t like me? Hiding nasty truths, protecting us from them?
With a deep sigh, I let my daddy go and looked over at my momma who was coming my way. I scratched at the back of my head, forced a smile, and accepted her hug when she wrapped her arms around me. I was still mad at her. Pissed really. As we hugged, I thought about how she’d put Duke on a pedestal that day, talking about he was a good man. I wondered what she’d think now, knowing what I knew. I wondered if she’d think Duke was a good man who deserved to be loved properly, then. Knowing her, she’d want me to stay. Knowing her, she’d tell me to stay by my husband and to get on my knees and pray.
I wanted to get on my knees for other shit. Get back, not resolve.
“You know she pulled up with that music blasting. With her friends acting a fool. How was she focusing on driving with all that mess going on? I don’t know why y’all just ain’t drive together. The girl too young to be on the?—”
“Aw Eve, hush up,” said my daddy. “That girls driving is just fine. Hell, I should have her take me to my doctor’s appointment?—”
“Doctors appointment?” I questioned with furrowed brows.
“A check up, Pickles,” he said with a wink.
“Mmhmm. Let me find out,” I said, just as I felt Duke slide his hand along my waist.
I cringed. Froze up. Swallowed and forced a smile. I would have to do this all night. How was I going to get through the day, pretending I didn’t know anything when it was at the front of my mind? Shit, how was I going to get through any of the days?
I closed my eyes, briefly, took a deep breath and told myself I had to. I literally had to. Sure, it would have been easier for me to just put it all on the table, but did Duke deserve easy? Hell no. He deserved to suffer, and that’s what he was going to do.
2
