Chương 5 - The Driveway Ambush
Twenty minutes later, tires screeched against the asphalt of my quiet Clintonville street.
I stood by my front window, watching my parents’ silver Lexus SUV pull halfway onto my curb. Dad jumped out of the driver’s seat without even putting his jacket on, his face the color of raw beef. Mom exploded out of the passenger side, her purse swinging wildly from her elbow like a medieval flail.
Before they could pound on the door, I stepped onto the front porch, pulling the heavy oak door shut behind me so Emma wouldn't hear. Emma was in the den with her headphones on, building a sprawling Lego castle on the rug.
“Sarah Jane!” Mom screamed as she marched up the stone walkway. Her voice was shrill enough to set off car alarms. “What kind of sick, twisted monster are you?!”
Neighbors down the street stopped raking their early spring flower beds, turning to look.
“Lower your voice, Carol,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Don't you tell me to lower my voice!” she spat, climbing the porch steps until she was inches from my face. I could smell the peppermint gum and expensive perfume she always wore. “Your father told me what you said on the phone! You tell me right now that this is a sick joke! You tell me you didn't cancel our anniversary trip!”
“It’s not a joke,” I said calmly. “The booking is gone.”
Mom looked like she had been slapped with a wet fish. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly for three seconds before the rage surged back into her eyes.
“You spiteful, jealous little bitch!” she hissed. “You bought that trip for us! It was a gift! You can’t just steal a gift back because your feelings got hurt over a theme park!”
“It wasn't a gift yet,” I corrected her. “I hadn't given it to you. The confirmation was in my name, paid on my credit card. It was a surprise. And after Sunday morning, I decided you didn't deserve it.”
Dad stepped up beside her, trying to play the reasonable diplomat, though his hands were trembling. “Sarah, honey, look... we understand you’re upset about the Disney thing. We do! Maybe we should have handled that better. Maybe we should have found a way to squeeze Emma in. But forty-two thousand dollars? Canceling our retirement? That is nuclear! That is cruel!”
“Cruel?” I laughed out loud. “Cruel is watching a seven-year-old girl stand in a circle of her cousins while you hand tickets to children who don't even share your last name, and telling her *‘we ran out.’* That is cruel, Dad. What I did was just basic accounting.”
“Diane’s kids were a courtesy!” Mom yelled, her face contorting. “Jessica’s social standing in that neighborhood depends on those connections! You don't understand how these things work because you sit in your basement all day typing on a computer! You’ve always been selfish! Ever since you were a little girl, always wanting what Jessica had!”
“What Jessica had?” The words snapped out of me before I could stop them. “Jessica had parents who actually gave a damn about her! She had parents who showed up to her track meets! Who bought her cars! Who paid her tuition! I paid my own way through every single day of my life, Mom! And when I finally make enough money to give you the one thing you’ve dreamed of for thirty years, you treat my daughter like a stray dog you didn't want on the furniture!”
“She’s a child!” Mom shrieked. “She doesn't care about Disney the way Jessica’s kids do!”
“She has a jar of quarters in her room, Carol!” I roared back, stepping forward until Mom actually took a step back. “She has been saving nickels and dimes for two years! She watches YouTube videos of the fireworks every single night before bed! She ironed her dress because she thought Grandma wanted her to look fancy!”
Tears of rage finally spilled over my cheeks, hot and biting in the cold March wind.
“You broke her heart for fun,” I said, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Because you like reminding me that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, Jessica is first, and I am nothing. Well, congratulations. Jessica can buy you your cruise.”
“You know Jessica and Dave don't have that kind of liquidity!” Dad cried out desperately.
“Not my problem,” I said.
I turned around, opened my front door, and stepped inside.
“Sarah!” Mom lunged forward, grabbing the brass door handle. “You fix this! You call Royal Caribbean right now and give them your card! You owe us this trip! You owe your father!”
I looked her dead in the eyes.
“I don't owe you anything. Get off my porch before I call the Columbus police for trespassing.”
I slammed the door. The deadbolt slid into place with a heavy, final *thunk*.
May you like
Through the decorative frosted glass, I watched my mother kick my porch planter, sending potting soil spilling across the concrete, before Dad pulled her down the steps toward the car.
***
