Page 46 of The PTA President
“Just something they overheard my dad saying. But remember, we’re not going to dwell on that, because you’re here now. Are you hungry?” She asks, with the perky Stepford voiceshe used when I first met her. It’s sending red alerts to my brain, but like a classic masochist, I ignore them.
“I’m not going to sweep that under the rug, Candace. Why does your dad think this is his house, and why the hell would I not be invited in? Does he think I’m a vampire here to drain everyone's blood?”
I can’t help but feel sorry for her when she rubs her temples, clearly stressed. “This is my dad’s house. He helped us buy it when we were first married. It’s technically in his nameandGreg’s. He’s also got a tight hold on the rest of my inheritance. Court opted to take all of hers after high school, while I pushed mine out in phases.”
“So what’s Daddy gonna do? Ground you if he sees me here? Take the car for the weekend?”
“You don’t understand, he could take away everything– the house, my money, it's all tied up in other people's names.” She fidgets with a kitchen towel, rolling and unrolling.
“You're right, I don't understand how you don’t have access to your own shit, Candace.” Moving around her, I raid her fridge hoping for something stronger than apple juice, but it’s all I’m left with.
“It was never an issue before you, and now suddenly I’ve got vultures watching my every move.”
Chugging the juice straight from the bottle like an immature child fills me with joy, hoping her dad’s spying through the window, seething. “Then just move out, get a new place for you guys to live the way you want, away from these assholes.”
“And where would you have us go? I need the money from my inheritance, and I love this house. I won’t leave it.” Her face is growing red and stern as she looks around at all the shit in her house holding her back from fully living.
“It’s just stuff. You can buy new stuff, a full fresh start.”
“Why would I want something else?” She sighs, looking everywhere but at me.
“You’re blindly playing house, and I can’t believe you’re not embarrassed.” I throw the empty bottle into the sink, and shut the fridge door before it starts beeping at me.
Apparentlythatwas the straw that broke the camel's back and I knew dinner was over before it even started. She doesn’t even look at me when she tells me I should go and that she was done repeating herself. The twins never came downstairs to object or say bye and there was no point in arguing with someone so fucking delusional. How do we move on or have any kind of life if her entire world revolves around drapes and throw pillows?
“My dad has a few business partners coming into town for a conference. I volunteered to help with a few things, so let's take a minute and cool off. This was a long week. I’m fried and could use a second to think things through,” she says, bringing her attention back to me.
Leaving the house, I feel more skeptical than hopeful, but it’s a good thing I always have a plan up my sleeve. She can have all the space she wants. I won't even step inside the house.
ChaptEr 33
Candace
“Is that?” Court bunches her eyebrows, looking around for the source. “Peter Gabriel?” She asks, doing a one-eighty in my kitchen.
“Yeah, it must be eight already. Right on schedule.” I say, keeping my tone even, acting like I’m not aware of the happenings in my yard.
“What’s right on schedule?” She asks, peeking through the window leading to the backyard. “Where’s it coming from?”
“Outside.” I point to the front yard, then return my attention to the multicolored poster board advertising the new lunch menu.
“You’re joking? Homegirl is out there serenading you with a boombox and you’re in here ignoring her to do crafts? Is this some sort of tribute to the eighties foreplay?” She jokes, moving the curtains to get a better look.
“No,” I mutter, adding more pink to the bubble letters. ”She started a couple of nights ago after our disagreement. The neighbors complained at first, but they left her alone once she turned the volume down.”
“You know people go their entire lives without a grand gesture like this, just saying.”
“I think it’s her way of giving me some time. I get this feeling she’s here with me without being in the room.” Dusting off the leftover glitter, I proudly hold up the poster. “What do you think? Cute right?” I show Courtney who’s more interested in the one-man show.
“I think you’re crazy for not running out there and belting love ballads with your girl.” She says, gesturing to the scene out front.
“Mom’s coming over in twenty minutes to borrow my Chanel blazer, so unless you want a run in, I suggest you call it a night. I was about to go warn Nat.” I mention, scooping up the poster to dry on the kitchen table, instead of my counter top.
Her lips purse, stopping her from saying anything else. “Call me later?” She asks, grabbing her purse and the leftover spaghetti from dinner.
Nat’s perched against my fence, feet tapping along to the pop song. “I didn’t realize “Easy Lover” was on the Say Anything soundtrack.”
Turning down the music, she looks up at me with a solemn expression. Not excited to see me, but not disappointed either. “I was falling asleep and needed a pick me up. I didn't think you were educated in the arts.”
