Going Home

I ran into the hall, and saw my dad playing the piano. He must have had extra time to spend at home. He usually stays at work more than he does at home, but that time was different. He saw me wet from head to toe, and got up from his chair in a hurry. He walked up to me, and placed his hands on my wet shoulders. He looked me in the eyes, and pursed his lips. 

"I talked to Peter when I saw him at the gate," He said. "My precious daughter, he is not the man you need to seek."

I felt the tension between my eyebrows, and bit my lips. How did he find out about Peter? Who told him that he wanted to see me? My dad didn't have the right to stop me from seeing guys who I liked, even though I wasn't eighteen yet, but I had other things that I wanted to have control over in my life, especially my love life. 

"Why?" I asked, with gritted teeth. "Peter is a good guy!"

His eyebrows arched, and looked at my expensive wet dress. "He will no longer be visiting you, you need to forget about him. He's not your type of guy," He explained. "Now go change your clothes, and take a warm bath. Let's forget this ever happened."

I pulled my shoulders from his grip, and walked backwards. My hands were clenched, and tried to not scream at him for being comfortable in controlling my love life. Did I even need his money after all? Maybe mom was right, I didn't need him spoiling me, I wanted my independence from his empire that he created. He had a rigid idea of what our lives should look like, and it wasn't right. For once, I envied girls who had a normal life, and some freedom to chose whoever they wanted to date. 

"Maybe mom was right," I murmured.

His eyes widened, and shook his head. "Jane, we will not talk about this right now!" He argued.

 "Yes, we do," I shouted. "Maybe I should stay at mom's house!"

He pursed his lips, and he looked sad. I regretted yelling at him for once, and the pain I caused him, but I had to make my point clear to him, or he won't ever change his mind about Peter. I ran upstairs as tears fell from my eyes, and sniffed. 

"Jane!" He called.

I locked my bedroom door, I didn't want to hear his voice again. I went to the closet, and took a travel bag, and started putting my cloth inside. I didn't care which clothes fit with what shoes. I just took whatever I saw in the closet. After I gathered the things I wanted in the travel bag, and placed it on my bed. I took my cellphone from my purse, and dialed my mom's number. I heard it ring a few times, then she picked it up.

"Jane, everything okay?" She asked.

"No," I said. "Dad and I had a fight about a boy I liked."

"Oh, no, sweetie," She said. "Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Yes," I said.

                                       *****

After half an hour, I saw mom's car parked outside the house's gate. She had a new white truck this time, and she honked a few times at the guard inside his office. I knew he wouldn't let her in, because dad didn't want to meet up with mom ever again. I took my bag, and ran downstairs, and went from the front door. The day was sunny, and the weather was warm. I wore a tank top, and a short skirt. I went down the stairs of the outside steps, and walked to the gate. When the guard saw me, he opened the gate. I opened my mom's car door, and went inside with my bag. 

"Buckle up, we're going home, and then watch Netflix and eat some caramel popcorn," She said. "Don't worry about your dad, he has been like this since we started dating."

I buckled up, and got ready for her talk about their failed marriage. It was her favorite topic to talk about when she started complaining about anything in life. She drove the car away from home, and drove on the California streets were palm trees lined up the pavements. My mom's house was smaller, and less organized because they didn't have a maid or two. Mom didn't believe they needed a maid, as her husband's income wasn't enough for luxury. They didn't even have any pets in their house, that's the only thing my parents had in common. 

"I always thought he was my best match, you know? your dad was always the most handsome man I ever met. I didn't know he was a psycho," She said.

"Mom," I called for her to stop, but that wasn't going to happen.

We reached Santa Monica where there were good beaches, and people had their bikinis on. I liked the coziness of the area. Mom had a small beach house, and that was the thing which inspired her to paint her paintings. She always had the creativity to paint amazing portraits of people. If she wasn't painting, she would watch TV series about serial killers. My favorite place was Pacific Park amusement park. She usually took me there to play with her, without her husband Ben. I loved that special time with mom before she got married to him. It's like she became a different person than I used to know. We reached her house, and she parked outside. We got out of the car, and I took my bag. Mom took my bag to ease the heaviness I had. 

"Welcome home!" She said. "Your room is always ready for you whenever you come back."