My Calamity
Chapter Thirty-Five
I sat on edge, farther then the edge maybe the whole dinner. I could usually keep conversation flowing easily but I left that to my parents because I was too busy freaking out (over what I wasn't positive). I knew mom liked Patrick, but my dad? Oh god, not two minutes into Patrick's arrival had he whipped out the 'you hurt my daughter' speech. It was mortifying.
I don't even understand why my mom invited him to the barbeque as it is. Okay, so maybe I do understand a little. He was still my father even if I liked to pretend he wasn't. The conversation fell as everyone ate dessert, I was full from the meal and barely touched my soufflé, and instead took a keen interest in my skirt.
Patrick nudged my knee and my head shot up to look at him hoping I hadn't been addressed in conversation. He was staring at my parents, conversing easily about something I couldn’t quite understand. I nudged his knee back trying to mask a smile. He dropped his hand onto my knee and pinched my shin in return, and I let out a yelp of pain. Both my mother and father looked at me like I was crazy while Patrick grinned. "A bug bit me," I said quickly trying to justify myself.
"Why don't we go inside, its getting cool out," my mother suggested standing up and pushing her chair in. We all followed suit and herded into the living room. Naturally my mom got the baby books out and sat with Patrick on the count laughing away at pictures of me.
I slid into the kitchen where Adele was busy working on dishes and got myself some iced tea. Sitting at the island I drank slowly listening to my mother's booming laugh. Yeah, she really liked Patrick. "He's good for you," my father said when he joined me in the kitchen. Adele shot me a look before sliding out the hallway door to do unnecessary work in the laundry room.
"Glad you approve," I remarked sarcastically taking another sip from my drink.
"Penelope," my dad sighed. "How long is this going to last?"
"Forever," I replied my words holding no bite. I was trying to rouse the anger I felt for him, trying to dig it up but I was finding that my anger was spent.
"Your mom said you're looking into colleges in New York City."
"Yeah so."
"Patrick's looking at colleges in the area," my dad continued.
"And your point? Are you trying to say Patrick and I will last? Because you don't really know anything about relationships and lasting."
"Penelope," my dad snapped.
"Stop Penelope-ing me dad. Nothing you say is going to change the fact you left us. Nothing you say will fix that."
"I know that."
"Then why do you keep trying to change that!" I cried. "Why do you waste if you're time?"
"Because I'm still your father. Just because your mother and I split up doesn't mean that you're not my child anymore."
"Yeah, well I don't want to your child anymore. I don't want to be anything to you anymore," I snapped getting up and walking back out onto the deck. The night was dark, and starry. I could see the brights lights of rides that they'd set up for the Carnival tomorrow, they had a Carnival every Labor Day.
I could hear my mother and Patrick in the kitchen and I turned around ready to return but stopped when I heard what my mother had said. "Who's Isabelle?" I cried storming back into the kitchen. My mother looked like me if I had broke one of her vases and got caught red handed.
My dad looked at her. "No," he said carefully. "I had not told her about Isabelle."
"Who's Isabelle?" I repeated feeling something similar to heart break but ten times worse coursing through me. I think I knew exactly who Isabelle was but I wanted to hear it, I wanted to hear him say it before I left before I completely severed any ties with him.
"Isabelle is my fiancee," my dad answered and before anybody could say anything else I had walked out of the kitchen and had stormed upstairs where I'd slammed my bedroom door and locked myself in my room. My mind was running and I didn't know what I could do to get it to stop.
"Penelope," I heard my mom call. I ignored her as I took my shoes off and found some socks in my drawer, slipping them on before grabbing some sneakers. The three of them were outside my bedroom door now, mumbling to each other and knocking on my door. I glanced around my room before walking into my sitting room and opening the glass doors that led out into the top porch. I climbed down the stairs and looked to see if Adele was in the kitchen before running out into the backyard.
The faster I ran the quicker my thoughts pulsed through me. Patrick was going to college in the area; I was going to college in New York. My mom knew all this time my dad had proposed to Isabelle, whoever the chick was, and my father had been preaching about me being a daughter when he'd gone a proposed to a lady he would have his own kids with and start a whole new life with.
Everyone was falling apart, and I didn't want to be there when it collapsed.
I don't even understand why my mom invited him to the barbeque as it is. Okay, so maybe I do understand a little. He was still my father even if I liked to pretend he wasn't. The conversation fell as everyone ate dessert, I was full from the meal and barely touched my soufflé, and instead took a keen interest in my skirt.
Patrick nudged my knee and my head shot up to look at him hoping I hadn't been addressed in conversation. He was staring at my parents, conversing easily about something I couldn’t quite understand. I nudged his knee back trying to mask a smile. He dropped his hand onto my knee and pinched my shin in return, and I let out a yelp of pain. Both my mother and father looked at me like I was crazy while Patrick grinned. "A bug bit me," I said quickly trying to justify myself.
"Why don't we go inside, its getting cool out," my mother suggested standing up and pushing her chair in. We all followed suit and herded into the living room. Naturally my mom got the baby books out and sat with Patrick on the count laughing away at pictures of me.
I slid into the kitchen where Adele was busy working on dishes and got myself some iced tea. Sitting at the island I drank slowly listening to my mother's booming laugh. Yeah, she really liked Patrick. "He's good for you," my father said when he joined me in the kitchen. Adele shot me a look before sliding out the hallway door to do unnecessary work in the laundry room.
"Glad you approve," I remarked sarcastically taking another sip from my drink.
"Penelope," my dad sighed. "How long is this going to last?"
"Forever," I replied my words holding no bite. I was trying to rouse the anger I felt for him, trying to dig it up but I was finding that my anger was spent.
"Your mom said you're looking into colleges in New York City."
"Yeah so."
"Patrick's looking at colleges in the area," my dad continued.
"And your point? Are you trying to say Patrick and I will last? Because you don't really know anything about relationships and lasting."
"Penelope," my dad snapped.
"Stop Penelope-ing me dad. Nothing you say is going to change the fact you left us. Nothing you say will fix that."
"I know that."
"Then why do you keep trying to change that!" I cried. "Why do you waste if you're time?"
"Because I'm still your father. Just because your mother and I split up doesn't mean that you're not my child anymore."
"Yeah, well I don't want to your child anymore. I don't want to be anything to you anymore," I snapped getting up and walking back out onto the deck. The night was dark, and starry. I could see the brights lights of rides that they'd set up for the Carnival tomorrow, they had a Carnival every Labor Day.
I could hear my mother and Patrick in the kitchen and I turned around ready to return but stopped when I heard what my mother had said. "Who's Isabelle?" I cried storming back into the kitchen. My mother looked like me if I had broke one of her vases and got caught red handed.
My dad looked at her. "No," he said carefully. "I had not told her about Isabelle."
"Who's Isabelle?" I repeated feeling something similar to heart break but ten times worse coursing through me. I think I knew exactly who Isabelle was but I wanted to hear it, I wanted to hear him say it before I left before I completely severed any ties with him.
"Isabelle is my fiancee," my dad answered and before anybody could say anything else I had walked out of the kitchen and had stormed upstairs where I'd slammed my bedroom door and locked myself in my room. My mind was running and I didn't know what I could do to get it to stop.
"Penelope," I heard my mom call. I ignored her as I took my shoes off and found some socks in my drawer, slipping them on before grabbing some sneakers. The three of them were outside my bedroom door now, mumbling to each other and knocking on my door. I glanced around my room before walking into my sitting room and opening the glass doors that led out into the top porch. I climbed down the stairs and looked to see if Adele was in the kitchen before running out into the backyard.
The faster I ran the quicker my thoughts pulsed through me. Patrick was going to college in the area; I was going to college in New York. My mom knew all this time my dad had proposed to Isabelle, whoever the chick was, and my father had been preaching about me being a daughter when he'd gone a proposed to a lady he would have his own kids with and start a whole new life with.
Everyone was falling apart, and I didn't want to be there when it collapsed.
♠ ♠ ♠
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