Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“Now, Feeney,” Dad starts using that I’m your parent, I know best, so listen to me tone I really can’t stand at any time, especially not now.
“Honey, we wanted what was best for you. You’re making this seem like something it’s not.” Mom takes a different route than Dad for a change. “We weren’t trying to trade you in or barter you in exchange for something. The deal wasn’t dependent on you being with Maxwell or not being with him. We just wanted you to be happy and safe with someone who would look after you instead of treating you badly.”
“In what? An arranged marriage?”
“You did say you wanted one,” Dad says sheepishly.
He looks sidelong at my mom, completely out of his element. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad look like that. He always has everything under control. He’s used to dealing with bullshit at work, and he’s pretty good at defusing things and having them go his way. He has the magic touch, I guess. But not this time. Oh, no. Not this time.
“I didn’t mean it! I was just…just venting! Jesus! How could you think this would be in anyone’s best interest?”
“I didn’t mean it to come out the way it did,” Dad sputters. “I didn’t mean you had to marry him. We were trying to tell you that we just wanted you both to meet. We were trying to tell you that Maxwell had a son who needed a mother figure in his life. We know you like children.”
“Why does everyone say that about me?!”
“What your dad wanted to say was that we wanted you to meet Maxwell and his son, and if you felt it was right, then he’d be open to an arrangement. A marriage where you could both live your lives, but in a way where you could both be happy and where his son would be loved and looked after.”
“That’s the worst freaking idea I’ve ever heard!” I snap. “Why would you think something like that could work? That I would ever agree to it?”
“Well, you did say—”
“I know what I said!” I feel like combusting. Now I totally get those cartoon characters with steam or smoke blowing out of the top of their heads. I feel like that’s me—a big, steaming, cartoon character.
“I’m sorry,” Dad chokes.
Not like how Luke apologized. I can tell he really doesn’t mean it. He’s completely baffled at the moment, and he can’t understand why I’m upset. I decide to help him out since I’m feeling less than gracious at the moment. Shit, it’s not like I don’t have a right to it.
Own it, people say.
Well, I’m going to be over here, owning my very justifiable anger.
“I can’t believe you asked someone to marry me like I’m completely hopeless. I don’t care if it was with good intent or not because who the heck does that? And you did wrap it up with a business deal, which is just crazy and wrong. Even if it didn’t depend on it, I still think it kind of did, and you should never have talked about the two together. You shouldn’t have talked about it anyway. Plus, you then, after I left this house, tricked me into staying with the very man I wanted nothing to do with! You couldn’t just leave it at my refusal. You couldn’t just mend the bridges that were on fire. You had to go and pour freaking gasoline all over them and really ignite them! I can’t believe you did this! Both of you!”
“We really did want to make sure you were safe. You’ve had a few bad experiences, and you’re not…you’re not very street-savvy,” Mom pleads.
“Street smarts? Whose fault is it that I don’t have street smarts? You guys sent me to boarding school, and then you paid for an Ivy League school. I haven’t been allowed to see the world! I wasn’t even really allowed to study what I wanted! I’ve never been able to go anywhere I wanted, or even do what I wanted!”
“That’s hardly true,” Dad puts in.
“It basically is. I’m thankful for all the opportunities you’ve given me, but I’m not going to stand here and let you direct my life like this. Tricking me into going to Luke’s house and staying there, thinking it was a safe place, into falling in love with his son, into feeling—” I cut myself off, realizing I’ve said way too much.
Mom and Dad exchange a look. It’s a look that says, don’t worry, this is all going to blow over. She’s going to thank us soon enough when she’s calmed down. She likes him, after all. They’re going to end up married, and we’ll be laughing about this and telling her I told you so while we’re eating overpriced turkey and drinking obscenely expensive wine here at next year’s Christmas.