“No, the saying is the path of—you know what? It doesn't matter. She shouldn't be living here with one of her college professors who impregnated her. Emphasis onimpregnated.”
“It's pregnant.” Mom blinks slowly. “There's noimin front of it.”
Ugh. This conversation is going nowhere.
“The point is she should be back at college screwing up her lifewithout involving us.” I make sure to exaggerate every word.
“Harvey had hip replacement surgery a few months ago.” Mom's eyes widen at the words. “How painful. Anyway, then his house burned down and now they have nowhere to live.”
“So, they're just going to live here and take over my room?” I raise my eyebrows at her.
Mom taps her finger on her chin. “Your father said he will figure out a way to get Harvey in trouble with the university without him losing his job.”
“He will lose his job,” I make clear. “He impregnated a student.”
“Pregnant, Ingrid. He got his student pregnant.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Either way, you can't let Mussolini start making decisions for the greater good of this family. I will not live under a fascist dictator, Mom. I won't do it.”
“I'll see what I can do.” Mom lets out a weary sigh. “What should I do?” She mutters to herself. “What should I do?”
Her naivety is enough to make me rethink my approach. “Maybe you and Dad could suggest to Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen that they'dbe happier in their own place. A place with more than enough space for a nursery that will not make me homeless.”
“You think that might work?” She sounds hopeful.
I shrug. “It's worth a try.”
Sometimes, I wonder how I survived living under Queen Isla's tyrannical reign while in high school. What am I saying? I was too worried about Cash and the Allreds to pay any attention to what was happening beneath this roof.
Clearly, Isla was bullying Jason and Jill into getting her way. No wonder they celebrated when she left for college.
They barely survived.
When I return to my room, Isla has pulled the curtains down and she's already moving furniture around.
“Get out!” I scream as I grab my white curtains off the carpet. “Get out now!”
Isla rolls her eyes dramatically, but the short-haired brunette makes a beeline for my door.
“Ing, you really have to learn how to control that temper of yours,” Islatsksme.
I drop the curtains at my feet and glare at her. “Listen up, Stalin. You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.”
“Quit quoting Dr. Seuss,” she groans.
“It's Abraham Lincoln!” I bellow. “Read a history book!”
Isla's hand finds her stomach. “You're upsetting the baby. Stop yelling at me.”
Blind fury rages through me. “Get. Out. Now!”
“Fine,” she sneers. “But I will be back.”
“Over my dead body!”
If she thinks she’s stealing my room for her and Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen’s love child, she’s really gone too far this time.
There’s only one way to handle this.
