"Hi. I figured you wouldn’t want to deal with any parents," she giggled. "I said some pretty horrible things to my mother today, so I’d rather avoid her. Things that needed to be said, mind you."
"Well, let’s go, then, before I find myself in the middle of a crossfire," I giggled.
We got in the car and drove off. "What did you say to her?"
"Oh, just some unpleasant truths," she said. "They don’t love me, you know. Never have."
"Well, I know they’re difficult…"
"Oh, they’re more than difficult. Believe me. Anyhow, can we talk about something more pleasant?" she grinned.
"Sure. Where are we going to eat?"
"Ah, food. That’s a pleasant thought, always," she giggled. "You sure you want me to go out to eat with you? I eat a lot."
"Good. I like a girl with a healthy appetite." She giggled at that. "I was thinking Luciano’s."
"Oh, I love Luciano’s," she gushed. "You’d better watch out, though. You take me there, I might eat you right out of your wallet."
"Well, it’s Friday. They have the all-you-can-eat Linguine with Clam Sauce special on Fridays."
"Linguine with Clam Sauce? My favorite!" she enthused.
"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" We went to Luciano’s.
We got a table, and ordered. "Oh, I love this place," she gushed. "I love Italian food, anyhow. I’ve been known to come here by myself, when I’m upset or nervous. Which is when I tend to eat a lot."
"Then you won’t be eating a lot tonight," I said.
"Like hell I won’t."
"You’re upset?"
"No, I’m nervous!" she blurted. I had to chuckle at that.
"Well, so am I," I said. "But it’s OK, you know."
"David," she said, looking right at me, "I’m going to lay all my cards on the table. I like you. A lot. That makes me nervous. I’ve never ever felt about any other guy the way I feel about you, OK?"
"Well, same goes for me," I said. She beamed at me! "I also like you a lot. What a surprise that was."
"Yeah," she said, "and part of you is still dreading the return of horrible Nasty Missy, right?"
"I think I was. After today, I don’t think I am anymore."
"What?" she said, incredulous.
"Nasty people don’t write notes like the one you wrote to Cass. Nasty people don’t go to Ellie Kirkland for help. Nasty people don’t ask me how I feel about them, and then look at me like the answer means everything in the world." She was looking at me wide-eyed. "And nasty people certainly don’t-well, Missy, do you realize you’re the first girl I’ve ever been able to really talk to? Nice girls intimidate me. Nasty ones? They make me want to go hide in the corner. You don’t intimidate me at all. Somehow."
"Oh, God," she whimpered. "I don’t know what to say."
"Don’t say anything," I smiled. Just then, the waiter brought the food. "In fact, don’t say anything, eat instead!"
"I’ll buy that," she giggled. We ate in companionable silence. And I noticed that she really didn’t eat all that much.
Afterwards, we paid the bill, and headed to the car.
"Would you like to do something else?" I asked her.
"Yes. I would like you to take me home." Uh-oh, I thought. But then she grinned at me. "There’s nobody there."
I grinned back, but then thought-oy, what does she want to do? Was I ready for that? She must have seen it, because she said, "Look, Dave. We don’t have to do anything we’re not ready for. I just want to be alone with you."
"OK. I’d like to be alone with you, too," I smiled.
We pulled up into her driveway. She took my hand and led me into the door.
"Melissa! Is that you?" we heard shouted.
"Oh, damn," she hissed. "They were supposed to be out!"
"You want to sneak back out the door?" I grinned.
"Nah, it won’t work." Just then her parents walked into the room. "I thought you both had plans," she said to them.
"We cancelled them. We’ve been waiting for you. We need to talk," her father said in a very stern tone of voice.
"I’m on a date," she said. "We came back here to watch TV and stuff."
"Date’s over," her father hissed. "Goodbye," he said to me.
"Oh, you should let him stay. Then he can find out about what a loser I am, can’t he?" she said
"Melissa…" her father hissed.
"Give me a couple minutes," she said, then grabbed my hand and led me out the door. "I’m sorry," she said.
"It’s OK, but I’m worried about you."
"Don’t. I can handle them. Are you busy tomorrow?"
"No."
"Good. They are going out tomorrow, it’s one of my Mother’s charity things that they can’t skip. Instead of going out, you can come here and I’ll make dinner for us. I’m a very good cook."
"OK. But I’m calling you in the morning, to make sure everything’s all right. And if you need to get out of there tonight, you call me."
"I will. And thanks. But I’ll be fine." She leaned up and kissed me. It turned into an absolutely earth-shattering kiss. She was clinging to me by the time we broke the kiss. "Damn. And now I have to make you go away?" she said.
"And now I have to go away?" I chuckled. "But I’ll see you tomorrow."
"OK," she said, and I walked to the car. I drove home, worried. I hoped she’d be all right. I just didn’t trust her parents.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE MISSYI hate them. I really do. They broke up a perfectly wonderful date so they could yell at me-I knew what was coming. If they expected me to be compliant, ending my date early was not the way to go about it.
I walked into the living room, and there they were, waiting. "Thanks, folks. That was a very nice date you two just ruined."
"We couldn’t care less about your date being ruined," Dad said.
"Par for the course," I replied.
"What?"
"Well, that seems to be your whole attitude towards me, isn’t it? You couldn’t care less."
"Melissa, I am tired of this!" Dad screamed. "What you said to your mother this afternoon is inexcusable! We are your parents, we deserve respect!"
"Then start EARNING it!" I screamed back. "What the hell am I supposed to respect? A bully? You bullied Mr. Tilling with your threats earlier this week. Am I supposed to respect that? Or maybe that you’re both adulterers, oh that’s a nice thing to respect! Or maybe the fact that you manipulate people-something you’ve been doing to me for seventeen years. All these things are worthy of respect? Start treating me like a human being, maybe you’ll get some respect."
"Missy, that’s a tired act," Mom said. "We give you everything you need. Your own car? Clothes? Stereo equipment, TV? Everything you ask for, you get."
"Nice. How about love? When do I get that? Huh?" I looked at them. "You can’t even say it!"
"Say what?" Mom asked.
"That you love me!"
"When you get like this, you’re not a very lovable person," Dad said.
That’s when I absolutely lost it. I took one of Mom’s prized vases off of the coffee table and chucked it against the wall. It splintered into a million pieces. Mom and Dad looked at me in total shock. "I’m not loveable because YOU MADE ME THIS WAY!" I howled, absolutely hysterical. "Nothing I do is ever GOOD ENOUGH! What I am is never good enough! I can’t please you, ever! So I stopped trying!" I was almost convulsing by now, screaming in between huge gasping sobs. "You don’t care what I think! You don’t care what I want! All you care is how it LOOKS! I can’t DO this anymore! I need support. I need help. I need love! And I can’t get that HERE!"
"Why can’t you tell me you love me? WHY for ONCE can’t you JUST FUCKING SAY YOU LOVE ME?" After that, it was all just wailing. I was sitting on the couch, having a breakdown.
And they just fucking looked at me.
I calmed down, and looked at them. They were staring at me like I was a surprise visitor from the planet Klingon. I took a deep breath, and stood up. "It’s obvious that you can’t. It’s also obvious that I can’t be what you want me to be. So, it might be the best thing for you to contact an attorney about terminating your parenthood of me, emancipating me. And I’ll find someplace else to live."