Hush, Hush

You know your life is nothing short of perfect when your dad buys you a BMW M6 Convertible for your birthday, your doctor tells you it's time – finally - to remove your braces (also referred to as the horrible metal bars of mouth hell), you've finally lost that extra fat from Christmas and your final report card is an impressive straight As.

For me, eighteen was the best year of my life.

I was finally allowed to leave Scottsdale, Arizona. I refused to be a small town girl all my life and live with my parents until I myself was one. My children would not live the life I did. So I decided that, the second I turned eighteen and I had graduated, I was going to make a run for it.

Of course, my parents have always known how I worked. Well, my mother did. My father only knew what I told him. And what mother told him – which would be everything. Married people were so weird in my opinion.

So the night before I planned on letting them know, my father asked me if I was ready to take my car for a spin. Surely he didn't mean around the town. It wouldn't even last a minute under the envious eyes of the small town folks. No one drove such things here so it was always the rare passersby. The way everyone ogled their cars had them speeding to the next city, not even caring if they made it there with the car in one piece.

Suffice to say, my cover was revealed.

"You should have told us, Chloe." said my father with a tang of pain in his voice. He motioned for me to take a seat and I quickly sat on the one-armed sofa. I had no idea what to expect.

"I…I know, dad." Denying anything was out of the question; I was going to have to tell them now anyway. "I just…"

"What was so hard? You could have told us. What did you think we'd do?" he asked, extreme curiosity tangled with the previous pain. My mother's eyes held the same emotion. My blue eyes focused on my entwined fingers - a nervous habit – as I tried not to catch her identical ones.

"I don't know."

"You thought we wouldn't approve."

My mother's clear and assured voice read my thoughts like always. She seemed calm and collected, with one hand casually on the shoulder of her chair, but I knew better; my mother handled hard things in a tranquil way.

"Don't you?" I was never comfortable with confessing anything so I tried finding loopholes. I had managed to get away with it only a few years before my mother caught up with me. Lord, she knew me inside out.

"Of course we don't approve.” she said lightly.

I blinked. Did that mean she won't let me go? Would she stop me? What would happen if I tried to go anyway, would she go to drastic measures?

"Now don't get worked up, Cleopatra." Ugh, I hated when she did that. I never liked my real name. Chloe was an innocent change, not too far from the truth. But my mother never called me Chloe. Instead she used Cleo or Patty – which, let me just get say, is so much worse than Cleopatra. She just didn't see how being named Cleopatra could mess with your social status.

"I'm—we're not going to meddle with your plans." she elaborated, nodding towards my father to continue.

"We simply think you're jumping the gun too soon."

"Dad, I'm not getting married. For God's sake, I'm not even dating!" I said exasperated, raising my hands above my head traditionally. "'Jumping the gun' means to get married too fast." I told him, knowing fully well how he tended to use phrases he didn't quite understand.

"No matter, it still implies the same thing." he replied.

"We just think you're going about this too fast."

"Mom, please. I'm eighteen. I'm an adult." I don't think what you think applies anymore.

"That doesn't mean you can---"

"Howard." My mother cut my father off, silencing him with a small smile. "I think she's old enough to make her own choices now."

Whoa! Since when has she ever stood up for me? Her thoughts might apply for this one last time, I thought with a hidden smile of my own.

"Thank you."

"I sincerely hope that your choice is for the best."

"It is, mom." I said, knowing the storm had passed. I'm surprised that they didn't do their usual gun-firing. I was prepared this time…well, I think.

Later that evening, I had my suitcase packed and ready for tomorrow morning. It was going to be a long trip and I needed to get my things in order. I may not have been as completely ready to leave as I thought I'd been but I knew that I had plenty of time to mentally prepare myself.

”Drive safe." was what my father said as I stepped inside my car the next morning, with all my belongings (which weren't much) inside the back. I saw his eyes prickle and he moved back to let my mother bid me farewell.

"Don't talk to strangers." She said, grabbing hold of my free hand.

"Uh, I think I might have to, mom. I don't know anyone."

Her eyes were like dad's and her smile didn't reach the corner of her eyes like usual. She was trying to fight back tears because she knew how much I hated waterworks. I was never good with handling cries. I myself didn't cry much. Even when I was young, I barely cried and that had my parents worried. But they've soon gotten over that fear; it was just who I was.

"Mom, it's okay. I'll come back before you know it. Don't worry, I'll visit you." Inside, I was hoping soon was a long time from now.

"I know you will, honey. Now get going!" she said, letting go of my hand and covering her face with her hair. I sucked in a deep breath, gave my parents a feeble smile and put the car in drive.

Without a backwards glance, I left the life I knew behind me. It was all me from here on out and I had no idea what to expect. Change, though, was a certainty. I knew that for sure.

As I kept driving, not sure of where exactly I was going, I saw my father take out his handkerchief and hand it to my mother in the rear-view mirror. He rubbed circles in her back, comforting her and wiping away stray tears from his eyes.

My heart skipped a beat as a single tear rolled down my cheek.