Chapter 27
I cut through a side yard,heels sinking into the wet grass. The street, when I darted across it, was slick with sleet, but I managed to stay upright long enough to reach my house. Shivering, I hurried up the steps and through the front door.
I stood on the rug in the entryway, arms limp at my sides, aware of nothing but my own misery and the hot streaks coursing down my cheeks. After several minutes of this, the increasingly urgent need for a tissue forced me to move. I’d taken a few steps toward the downstairs bathroom when I noticed the soft jazz wafting from the living room. A glance in that direction revealed flickering candlelight, empty wineglasses—and my parents.
I stared at them in horror. They looked back at me with equal dismay. On top of everything else, I’d interrupted date night.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, pulling her legs from my father’s lap and leaping to her feet. She crossed the room to wrap an arm around me.
“Nothing,” I said thickly, wiping my nose and cheeks with the back of my hand. “It’s raining.”
They exchanged a look, silently debating whether to call me on the world’s most transparent falsehood.
“Come sit down,” Dad said, patting the couch cushion.
“That’s okay.” I tried to sound stoic. “I just want to go to bed.”
Mom led me to the couch. “What happened?”
I shrugged as I settled between them. It was easier not to cry if I kept my mouth closed.
“Mary.” She lifted my chin to get a better look at my face. “You’re worrying us.”
“I did something ba-ad.” A hiccupping sob split the last word before I managed to clamp my lips together. Mom’s hand tightened on my shoulder. I caught a flicker of panic in her eyes before she schooled her expression.
“Talk to us,” Mom said. Dad pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and draped it around my shoulders, as if that would help.
Strangely, it did. I let out a shuddering breath. “I was at the dance,” I began, not sure how much backstory to give them. “And there was this guy—Alex.”
Dad scratched his chin. “The one you spoke to at Trivia Night?”
I blinked at him in surprise before nodding.
“Handsome fellow,” he observed. For a second I lost control of my face, mouth wobbling as my eyes wrinkled into teary slits.
“Why don’t you make us some tea?” Mom suggested, patting Dad’s knee.
He looked from her to me. “That might be for the best.”
Mom waited until the kitchen door swung closed behind him. “First of all,” she said, pressing my limp hand between both of hers, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
I gave a sputter of disbelief.
“The early stirrings of love can be confusing, particularly in their physical manifestations. But as long as both partners share a mutual respect and consideration ... ” She trailed off, jaw tightening. “It was, wasn’t it?”
She’d lost me. “What?”
“A joint decision.” She enunciated the words carefully, watching my face. “You didn’t feel compelled, or coerced, to do anything you weren’t ready for?”
I stared back at her with mounting dread. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about whatever you want to talk about. In a spirit of openness and acceptance.”
“I kissed him, Mom. That’s it.”
“Oh, thank God.” She covered her eyes with one hand. “You’re much too young. I was trying to be broad-minded, but I don’t think either of us is ready forthat.” Leaning forward, she yelled, “You can come back. It’s not about sex.”
I closed my eyes as the last word reverberated through the house.
