Chapter 4

As she left, still in a daze, I said calmly (belying my insides which were threatening to volcano in at least two different directions—with cramps), “You’re so wrong, Dad, it’s not what you…”

He slapped me so hard my head turned sideways.

“Get this house cleaned up before the company comes. Mayor Morrison will be here at three with his niece and nephew, and by God if I see you even look twice at that girl you will rue the day you were born.” I thought I heard him add, “As do I.”

My brain slipped into some gear I’d not known I had and I wanted to giggle and continue to tell him how very wrong he was, but my mouth hurt and my whole stomach had turned into a giant rock; I could neither talk nor smirk; shitting and going blind were options, however, and I needed the bathroom badly. Good thing we had several. I could use several. This would be a bad day to clog up the toilet, if we only had just one.