Baby For The Mountain Man - Page 51

Something had taken place while I was gone.

I got out of the car while it was still running and approached my parents on the porch. My mother had her eyes pointed to her feet as my father’s eyes penetrated to my soul. I reached out for my mother, wanting to take her hand just so she would look at me.

I’d seen this a few times before, and I knew it wasn’t going to be good. No matter what was about to happen, my mother was wracked with guilt.

The last time I saw her like this was when my father had denied me the right to a proper education in favor of getting me to date and marry the first time.

“Since you already have your bags packed and in your car, then this will be quick,” my father said.

“What will be quick?” I asked.

“I’m not sure what in the world has gotten into you, but I know someone who can sort it out. My sister does wonders for the women in our family. I’ve placed a call to her.”

“You called Aunt Myrtle?” I asked.

“She’s expecting you,” he said. “The family is headed back to Seattle in a few days, but you will be heading to Spokane.”

“I’m not going to Aunt Myrtle’s,” I said.

“Well, you’re most certainly not coming home with us. My sister will be able to figure out what in the world has gotten into my beautiful daughter, and when she corrects it she will send you home.”

“There’s nothing to be corrected. You’re just pissed that I have my own free will and I’m finally discovering it.”

“That is enough. I am your father and those clothes on your back are mine. I have provided you with everything. A home. A room. Food. An education. Suitable men who could’ve loved you had you given them the chance and the ability to free yourself of the working class. I gave you a life of ease and luxury, and it turned you into a petulant, selfish child.”

“There’s no need for name calling,” my mother said.

“You will do well to stay silent during this,” my father said. “Part of this lies on your shoulders. On how you were so hell bent on shielding her from me when I could’ve corrected this before it ever escalated to this point. You failed your daughter. I suggest you start coping with that.”

“You don’t get to talk to her that way, she has nothing to do with this,” I said.

“All daughters get their dispositions from their mothers,” he said.

“No, they don’t. And you can’t force me to go anywhere,” I said.

“I can, and I will. Aunt Myrtle put Bernard on the road an hour and a half ago. He will be here any second to follow you to their home.”

“Uncle Bernard is going to tail me all the way to Spokane,” I said.

“He will. Once you learn to clean up your act and become the respectful and obedient daughter I know I raised-”

“Mother raised me. You had nothing to do with it.”

“Then you will be permitted to come home and take your rightful place within this family.”

I heard a car rumbling up the driveway and my stomach sank. My brothers were standing in the window, their eyes dripping with anger. I turned around and saw my uncle getting out of the car, a stern expression on his face as he walked towards us.

“Are you ready?” my uncle asked me.

“Yep. I was just leaving,” I said.

I stormed off to my car as tears crested my e

yes. What the fuck was happening? How the hell had things gotten so screwed up? I slammed myself into my car and waited, watching as my father and my uncle interacted briefly. My mother’s head rose from the porch, her eyes locking with mine as a redness crossed her cheeks.

I couldn’t blame her for what was going on. No matter how much the childish side of me wanted to. I knew I was going to face obstacles if I stood up to my father. I knew I was going to encounter terrible tasks I’d have to accomplish in order to be freed. And while the prospect of spending time with Aunt Myrtle terrified me, I knew I could do this.

This was the escape I had been looking for, even though it was hard to see past the hell I would be in once I got to Spokane. My aunt was a stickler for tradition. So much so that she used old school techniques to get people to fall in line. Corporal punishment was something she stirred into her morning tea, but it was almost hypocritical in a way. Everyone knew that Aunt Myrtle ran her household, even though she was ‘just a wife and mother’. All of my cousins had fallen in line and led perfect lives because of how she had raised them, but I knew they were all secretly terrified of her.

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