Page 61 of Shattered Saint
On a Saturday? That was weird. "Has something happened?" I asked, wondering what could have been the cause.
"He told me it was just normal work stuff, so it’s nothing we need to worry about. But we had to cancel our plans today because of it," she tried to reassure me.
Was that why she’d invited me over? Because Dad had canceled their plans?
"Okay, if he says so," I said, skepticism coating every word. I wasn’t sure what it was about this that was giving me pause, but something was. I shook off that feeling, because I had my own shit to worry about and adding more to my plate wouldn’t help matters.
"Go on up to your room and get settled. I’ll start on dinner. It’s a bit early, but that’s fine," Mom said, leading me toward the stairs. “If Dad can join us, then he will.”
“That sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a bit,” I said as I made my way upstairs.
I walked into my room and placed my bookbag on the floor by my desk. I’d brought a few things I could work on while I was here anticipating my mom would likely have something come up while I was here.
My eyes landed on a picture frame I’d had on my desk and realized it was a photo of my family from about ten years ago. Mom, Dad, Nash, and me all had our arms around each other, smiling at the camera. We looked so happy in that picture, and I remember it being that way most of the time back then. That was before my father’s political career had become the center of their world and was forced into mine.
With a heavy sigh, I turned away and walked down the stairs and into the foyer, which was completely empty. Before I went to find my mother, I walked toward my father’s office to see if I could take a moment to say hello. My mouth dropped open due to what I heard coming from his office.
"Damn it, it's not supposed to be public knowledge!" My father's voice was filled with anger.
I couldn't help but move closer to the door because I wanted to catch every word. His office door was ajar, and through the crack, I could see him pacing back and forth with his phone pressed tightly to his ear.
"Look,” he said, “if this story gets out, it'll ruin everything we've worked for. My career, my family. Everything is on the line here. Every single thing.”
I could hear the strain in his voice. I needed to know what he was talking about even if my curiosity got me in trouble. This was something serious, and I needed to know what it was.
“You’re supposed to keep things like this under wraps. Do your fucking job!” my father shouted.
I couldn’t remember the last time I heard him swear like that. Under the anger, it was obvious that he was scared too.
"If this story doesn’t disappear…” He trailed off but his threat remained.
I leaned in closer, desperate to hear more, but for the life of me, I couldn’t hear who was talking to him on the other end of the phone.
"Fine." He didn’t say anything else, and when I peered through the crack, the phone was no longer up to his ear. I was convinced that he’d hung up on whoever was on the other end, as all I could hear was my father’s heavy breathing as he tried to rein in his emotions.
"Shit," I muttered, running a hand through my hair as I moved away from the door. Questions and concerns flew through my mind. What was that all about? It obviously was a story that involved him, and I couldn’t even begin to think about what it could be referencing. What did it mean for our family if it did get out?
All I did know was, whatever my father had done, it had put our entire family at risk.
I debated telling my mother what I overheard, but then, without a doubt, she would go back to my father and tell him how she found out.
I was fucked no matter what.
For now, I had to pretend as if I’d heard nothing and as if everything was fine.
I took a deep breath, and with a final glance at my father’s office door, I turned and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. I could smell something savory coming from there, and now I was wondering if my mom was going above and beyond to put together a dinner for us.
"Hey, Mom," I said as I entered the kitchen, forcing a smile onto my face. "That smells delicious."
My mother looked up from the stove, her warm blue eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled back at me. "I hope it tastes as good as it smells."
I sat down at the kitchen island and tried to act as if everything was normal when it wasn’t. My mother was cutting up some fresh herbs, her knife rhythmically tapping against the wooden board.
“I have no doubt that it will,” I said.
I suspected my mother didn’t know anything about what my father was talking about on the phone. Despite all the drama between my mother and me, I felt terrible because she didn’t deserve that.
"Is everything okay, Bianca?" she asked suddenly, her eyes searching mine. "You seem… distracted."
