Beg Me-Sold to My Dad's Boss

“Ma,” I choked, my voice thick. “I don’t think I belong here.”

“Oh no baby!” came my mom’s cry. “Of course you do, you worked so hard to get into college, why wouldn’t you belong there?”

And suddenly, hot tears began rolling down my cheeks.

“Mom, it’s not that. I just- I just don’t think college is right for me,” I sobbed into the phone. “It’s something you and Dad wanted, I know you’re proud of me, but I don’t think this is right for me.”

I could almost hear my mom shaking her head frantically.

“That’s not true baby girl,” she pleaded. “Your dad and I only want what you want, what makes you happy. We always thought school was what you wanted to. Isn’t that true, Lindy? Isn’t that true?”

And it broke my heart because I couldn’t say yes. I couldn’t lie anymore and pretend that getting a degree was my heart’s desire.

But my mom did a sudden turnabout. Perhaps it was because she’d sensed it all along, realized that I never really wanted to go down this path, or maybe it was because I was her baby girl, and she couldn’t stand to see me like this. So her voice softened, becoming soothing.

“Oh honey,” she said gently. “If this isn’t what you want, we’ll talk about it, okay? Don’t give up just yet, Daddy and I will go over options with you, there’s more than one way to live life.”

“Is there?” I sobbed into the phone. My heart was breaking with crushed dreams and I could almost feel my mom’s heart breaking along with mine, this was so tough.

“There are absolutely many ways to live life,” affirmed Brenda, her own voice choking a bit. “We love you baby, no matter what.”

And it was then that the floodgates broke free because I couldn’t keep my secret anymore, I couldn’t hide the fact that I loved Chris and wanted to be with him despite the sordid deal we’d struck, the way we’d gotten to know each other.

“Mom,” I bawled into the phone. “I have to tell you something. I’m in- in love,” I stuttered, “and it’s with Christopher Jones.”

My mom was confused for a moment.

“But why is that bad, honey? We’re so glad you met someone, is he a nice boy? I’m sure there are so many nice boys at school.”

I could tell Brenda hadn’t made the connection, my dad’s boss was so far from her mind, completely out of the realm of possibility.

“No Mom,” I said softly. “Christopher Jones as in Mr. Jones, CEO of United Electric. You know, dad’s boss.”

And this time there was a shocked silence.

“Mr. – Mr. Jones?” she stuttered. “But how do you even know him? You’ve only met him once or twice before.”

And the whole story came tumbling out then, about my dad stealing from the company, his impending termination and how I bargained with Mr. Jones to keep Jim on for a little while longer in exchange for my body.

“No baby,” pleaded my mom, “say it isn’t true.”

“Mom, I’m so sorry,” I cried into the phone. “I didn’t want you and Dad to suffer, we don’t have much and we were going to lose the house. You know Dad can’t find another job that fast, he’s old and employers only want to hire young people now.”

“No baby,” cried my mom again, her voice breaking. “You didn’t have to do this for us, you didn’t have to make this sacrifice.”

And it was then that I pulled myself together.

“It’s okay Mom,” I said gently. “I did it, it’s done, and what’s more is that I fell in love with Mr. Jones along the way. And Mom,” I said hesitantly, pausing for a moment, “he fell in love with me too.”

There was utter silence from the other end of the line.

“Honey, you know that this whole older man younger woman thing is only in the movies,” she said gently. “You’re a young girl, you don’t know what you want.”

And I lost it then, gritting my teeth.

“Ma, if one more person tells me I’m too young to know myself, I swear I’m gonna scream,” I managed tightly, trying to keep a rein on my urge to slam the phone down. “I’m so through with other people telling me what I want.”

And my mom was silent, a pause so long that I thought she might have hung up had it not been for the soft breathing over the line. But then Brenda spoke, taking me by surprise.

“If you’re in love with each other,” came her voice gently, wavering only a little. “Then what’s stopping you from being together?”

I gaped, my mouth opening and closing without sound because this wasn’t the question I expected. I expected more denials, screams of grief, bellowing and beating of the chest, tearing at her hair, and not a totally logical question.