by Debbie Civil
Chapter Four
My father stands beside one of the chairs leaning against the wall. I don’t see my mother. A toilet flushes, water runs, and then there she is, strolling out of the bathroom. They are both dressed in designer clothing. My father is even wearing loathers with his khaki shorts and white button down short sleeved shirt. Mom is in a blue spaghetti strapped casual dress that hugs her curves. Her face is young and youthful. Though she has laugh lines around her mouth, mom looks ten years younger than her 49. I’m filled with confusion because these two are supposed to be divorced. But they look at one another with quiet understanding.
“Chelsea,” Dad begins, his voice controlled.
“I thought you two were getting a divorce,” I blurt out. Mom’s soft brown eyes are filled with weariness.
“We decided to give the marriage another chance,” Dad admits. Something about this doesn’t feel right. I stare at the hard wood floor just to gather my thoughts. What am I missing?
“Honey, welcome home,” Mom says before wrapping her arms around my shoulders. I look up and return the hug.
“It’s so good to see you Mom,” I say into her stomach. She kisses the top of my head and disengages herself from me. She glances to the doorway and standing there is Grandmother. Her eyes are dark and she is very pale. But a scowl is still on her face.
“Betty,” Mom says. And I blink because I had expected her to call Grandmother Mrs. Philips. When had things changed?
“Kate, Ian. Sandra will bring up dinner in a moment,” she announces and my father sits down in one of the chairs. My mother takes the seat right next to his. After grandmother takes a seat, I stare at them for a moment. What in the hell is this? My father breaks the silence.
“Chelsea, are you going to join us?” He’s impatient and I realize that there’s an empty seat between him and Grandmother. I curse under my breath and I drag myself up and plop down at the table. The door opens and Bob and a woman with black hair and olive skin stroll in. Her eyes are a clear blue and she is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. She’s wheeling a cart with covered dishes. The smell of spices and steam vegetables fills the room. Bob sets a glass of ice water in front of each of us. I frown, because the maids used to set a tray in front of me. Maybe grandmother’s standards are much higher. He then serves us each a salad. It’s a spinach salad with cherries and walnuts. The maid gives each of us a helping of dressing as Bob hands us utensils. My stomach rolls at the thought of eating something so disgusting. Yuck!
“Thank you Bob,” my father says before digging in. Everyone else eats the salad as if they are savoring a decadent glass of wine. I, on the other hand, eat the cherries, not wanting to eat anything else in the salad.
“You’re not hungry, Chelsea?” Mom asks. She knows damn well that I can’t stand spinach. Part of me wants to lie and say that I’m indeed not hungry. But my biggest pet peeve is when people try to put up a front. Many people do it at the academy.
“No, I hate spinach,” I say, my eyes flashing with aggravation. I’m tired, my ears are killing me from the flight, and I miss Peter. Let’s just say that I’m not good company right now. Dad glares at me.
“Chelsea, your mother and I raised you better than that. Your grandmother has provided a meal so you will be polite and eat it.”
“Or else?” Seriously, my father hadn’t taken an interest in my life. Now he wants to lecture me? He has no right. I’m an adult. I don’t need him anymore.
“Chelsea, just eat the salad,” Grandmother groans. She’s exhausted. That’s the only reason why I shove a small helping of spinach into my mouth. The stuff is disgusting. And I only manage to eat a fourth of the salad. Bob clears the salads and the maid puts the main dish on the table, chicken stir fry and white rice. This is actually quite good. I manage to finish my plate in record time. Dad glares at my veracious appetite. I ignore him and wipe my mouth with a napkin. As soon as we’re done with the meal, the maid clears the table and wheels the cart away. Bob leans up against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Chelsea, we need to talk to you,” Mom begins slowly. The last time she said that, I was sent to live in Gately with my grandmother. Nervous energy fills my body. I barely keep myself from snapping at her to just get on with it. I hate waiting.
“What do we need to talk about?” I ask after a minute of awkward silence.
“Chelsea, now that you’re back, there will be some changes,” Dad says, his blue eyes filling with harshness. Something tickles at my memory. A conversation that I barely remember. But it doesn’t come.
“What changes?” Seriously, is this how it’s going to be? Am I going to drag everything out of them?
“Your boyfriend Peter isn’t allowed to visit this house,” he announces and my heart sinks.
“Why?” I squeak out.
“You need to get better, Chelsea. You don’t need to be distracted by your past. You also need to focus on college and making your own way. Peter is nothing but a distraction,” Dad says. Mother and Grandmother nod in agreement.
“No,” I hiss. “You can’t make me stay away from him.”
“Chelsea, be reasonable. You haven’t been on a date with Peter in almost two years. This should be relatively easy,” Grandmother argues.
“No, I’m not letting him go,” I shout and they all wince, even Bob. Maybe everyone is expecting me to throw a tantrum and dress up in a skanky outfit and try to seduce Peter. But they haven’t been around me for a while.
“I’m an adult. You guys can’t order me to stay away from Peter. I’m turning nineteen in two months.”
“Chelsea, we are doing this for your own good,” my father says trying to use a reasonable tone.
“No. Dad, you never do anything for my own good. You hate me,” I say in a cool tone. The guy flinches and Mom shakes her head. I stand and stretch.
“Chelsea, where are you going?” Mom cries.
“Don’t worry about it,” I snap because I know what’s coming next. Mom and Dad will always hold my inheritance over my head, much in the same way that Grandmother did to them. But they forget that I’ve lived an underprivileged life before. I know what kind of options I have. I will enlist and make something of myself. I will serve overseas somewhere. Everything will be fine. Living at the academy for a year, I know that Dad doesn’t care about me. He never bothered to try to reach out, neither did Grandmother. They can’t just control my life because it suits them.
“Chelsea,’ where are you going?” Bob asks this question in a measured tone. I want to slap him. But I don’t want him to have one more thing against me.
“Move,” I demand.
“Chelsea, what’s going on?” my mother cries. I spin around and when our eyes lock, she shrinks back.
“You… You… After all I’ve been through, you allow them to do this to me? How dare you? How could you? No, wait, I understand this perfectly. You care more about your own pockets then you do me. Mom, he never wrote me any letters, called me, or even tried to visit while I was at the academy. And Now that I’m back, he thinks that he can act like a father? Seriously? How could you allow this?” My mother’s face crumples into tears.
“Chelsea, you don’t understand. I want you to get better. Just sit down. You don’t…”
“I’m enlisting. If the army doesn’t accept me, I’ll get a job and save up for college. Maybe, I can work as a waitress or bar tender. Who knows? But I do know what I’m never doing. I can’t live with the threat of my inheritance being taken away over my head. Grandmother, don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for everything you have done for me. But you can’t control who I should be with, especially since Peter is so kind. He’s worth me growing old penniless. Though, I doubt that I will.” Bob’s eyes widen. The guy probably expected me to beg and plead for them to leave me in Grandmother’s will. But I want no part of this. Otis and Uncle Vincent are dead because of money. I know that it isn’t fair, but I blame grandmother for this. If only she had given Eric more money.
The man would have been satisfied and none of this would have happened.
“Chelsea, sit down,” Grandmother orders.
“No. I think that I’ve overstayed my welcome here.” As soon as those words leave my mouth, Mom begins bawling.
“Ian, do something. She’s going to leave!” Mom pleads.
“Not if she doesn’t have a car. I…”
“Ian, don’t you dare? Her convertible was a gift. I’m not taking it away from her,” Grandmother hisses and her anger makes me gape.
“Mom, she’s clearly obsessed with Peter. Doctor Rose recommended…”
“Do you want her to run off? Obviously she’ll go running to Peter and won’t look back. Let’s go with plan B.” Dad’s eyes grow tired.
“Chelsea, there are steps that we can take so that we have permanent guardianship of you. We…”
“No. I’m not crazy. You can’t do that to me,” I argue.
“Chelsea, we will give you two days to think about it. Either agree with our demands or we will take matters into our own hands,” my father says. And I have no idea what’s going on. Why does everyone want to control me so badly? I walk out of the room, knowing that one person will know what the hell is going on.
Carmen’s room is two doors down from where it used to be. Being her, she’s posted a huge sign on her old door to let everyone know. I knock on the door hoping that she’s here. It’s early Saturday morning. If I’m lucky, she’s come up for the weekend. The door flies open and my cousin is standing in front of me. Her dark eyes are filled with weariness. She thinks that I’m still mad about our pointless fight. I shake my head and wrap my arms around her. She embraces me then pulls me into the room. I blink when I see Olivia sitting crossed legged on the king sized bed with a toddler on her lap. The boy is beautiful with blue eyes and a head full of dark curls.
“Hey, Chelsea,” Olivia says, her eyes filling with gratitude. I rescued her by shooting one of her captors. Till this day, no one knows who the other kidnapper is. And I don’t remember enough about the man to give the police an accurate description
“Hey. Who’s the cute one?”
“Tia’s son Alec,” Carmen responds as she sits on the edge of the bed. She looks like a woman. Her curves have filled out and her curly hair is pulled back into a high pony-tail. She wears black shorts and a white wife beater. Her feet are bare and she has pink toe nails.
“Where’s Tia?” I ask. Carmen grins.
“She’s sleeping. Alec doesn’t take to her whining,” Carmen explains. Olivia, who is dressed in jeans and a frilly top, stands and gathers the sleeping boy to her chest.
“I’ll go put him to bed and head out. Grandma is expecting me,” Olivia says before rushing out. As soon as we are alone, I stare at Carmen’s new room. It looks a lot like mine except for the fact that she has the table that seats two and a regular king sized bed. “What’s up?” she asks. The thought of spilling my guts makes exhaustion flood my body. I sit on the bed and sigh.
“I had dinner with my folks and Grandma,” I say.
“That must have been great. You haven’t seen your parents in a year,” Carmen comments, her eyes alert as always. I explain everything, how grumpy my father has been and how alone I feel. Her face turns from alert to rage when she hears about me being committed.
“Chelsea, just agree not to see Peter. We can work around that,” Carmen advises. My stomach fills with dread.
“I can’t. Peter isn’t much for sneaking around. He’s too good for that. He…”
“I guarantee you that Peter doesn’t like your father much. He won’t stand for staying away from you,” Carmen reasons.
“But…”
“Your only other option is getting married. And I’m afraid that Eliza is already doing that. Getting married shouldn’t be the solution for everything…”
“That’s a great idea! I’ll talk to Peter about it.”
“No you won’t. You will pretend that you aren’t seeing him anymore. You will act like the good little girl because the press is already thinking that you are a monster. If you are at odds with your family, it will make you look bad,” she warns. And then I remember Adam’s interview.
“Carmen, he’s lying. I would have never helped Uncle Eric. You…” She interrupts me by laughing hysterically.
“I know. I would have known had you been coming up with something like that. I snooped through your stuff constantly.” I gape at her and she sighs.
“Grandmother told you to keep an eye on me,” I guess.
“Yup. She wanted to know if Adam was using you to enter the house without you knowing. Chelsea, we don’t believe him.” Despite her words, I don’t feel so sure. After all, Doctor Rose believed that I would have been obsessed enough to help Adam.
“That means a lot to me, Carmen. Lately, it feels like everyone is against me.” She rubs my back.
“You have my support, Chelsea. And if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think that you are incapable of caring for yourself,” she says.
“Thanks. So, how are you?” Her face crumples and a tear escapes her.
“Danny is engaged to Dominic. They’re getting married next summer,” she announces and my mouth drops open.
“Poor Malcolm. He…”
“Moved on. He and Lilly have a thing now. She gets around,” Carmen says.
“Eliza?”
“Her wedding is in a month. Grandmother made her wait until you came home to marry.” Eliza told me about the letter and her birth mother and told me to keep it a secret. And I have.
“What about Danny? Is she attending the wedding?”
“She’s a bride’s maid. Grandma insisted.”
“So we have to deal with her?” I grumble. Carmen smiles.
“So you’re not talking to her?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to?” I ask. Carmen nods.
“I’m trying to move on. I don’t want everyone to hate her. She… She… Well, you can’t stop two people, in love,” Carmen says as Eliza bursts through the door and throws herself at me. She squeals and I wrap strong arms around her.
“Hey, I missed you,” she cries into my shoulder.
“I missed you too,” I say, hating that I had been stuck talking to my mother every week.
“Congratulations,” I tell her. She pulls away and winks.
“Our honey moon is going to be at ocean city Maryland. We’re driving there,” Eliza announces. Carmen shoots her a look and she sits. I repeat the entire story to her again and she rubs her fists.
“They’re still in your room, waiting for you to come back. I checked,” Eliza informs me.
“Carmen, can I bunk here?” I ask.
“We all will. We can make it a sleep over.”
Deciding that I really needed to shower and change out of the uniform, I go to my room. They are still at the table sipping coffee. I ignore my parents and Grandmother and head toward the closet.
“Chelsea, we need to talk to you. There are more rules. I…” I spin around and glare at my father.
“I’m tired. If you don’t mind I’m going to take a shower and spend some quality time with my cousins. Is that against your rules?” Mom winces.
“Chelsea, you are being unreasonable. You…”
“No Grandmother, you are. The funny thing is, I would have done whatever you said if you hadn’t demanded me to never see Peter again. Anything.” Grandmother nods, agreeing with me.
“You’re obsession with Peter needs to end. You…”
“I love him. He isn’t an obsession, Adam was. I truly love Peter. Grandmother, I can understand why you don’t know what love truly is. But, for me, it’s unconditional,” I hiss before leaving the room.