Page 25 of Rock and a Hard Place

Libby entered the darkened living room, letter in hand. Things were about to change. Her aunt had some questions to answer, and Libby refused to be bullied anymore. Aunt Marge snored lightly in her chair, and QVC droned in the background. How did one wake a sleeping monster?

She turned off the TV and flipped on a light, illuminating the harsh room.

Her aunt sputtered. “What? Who’s there?”

Libby waited, patient. Aunt Marge shook off her sleep and sat up straighter, her eyes narrow slits of suspicion.

“What’s your problem now? Got that kitchen clean?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“About this?” She held out the letter, far enough so her aunt could see it, but not take it. The woman would never touch Libby’s letter again.

Realization washed across her aunt’s face. Her posture tensed for a split second and then relaxed. “Oh, that.” She waved her hand, then reached for a pack of cigarettes.

“This letter belongs to me. Why didn’t you give it to me?”

“I guess I forgot.” She placed a cigarette in her mouth and lit it.

“Where is the other letter? And where is the money he sent?” Libby glared at her, willing to fight this to the end. Aunt Marge was keeping her from her dad.

“First off, this is my house, not yours. Anything in it belongs to me, and I’ll do what I want with it.” She took a long drag on the cigarette. “Secondly, your father owes me far more than the paltry money he adds to his letters. Fifty dollars a month doesn’t begin to pay for your food, let alone all the other things you need.” She blew the smoke into the air between them.

“Once a month! He’s written every month?” Libby couldn’t believe it. She had missed him so much and here he’d been writing regularly. “Where are the letters? Theybelong to me. I want them. Now!” She stepped closer, her hands on her hips in a vain attempt to appear threatening.

“They’re gone. Burned out back,” she answered, unfazed. “You should thank me, too. All he did was drivel on about how sad he is. Trust me, you don’t need his ramblings. When you got here, you were a shy mousy little thing afraid of your own shadow. Look at you now! Not only are you standing up for yourself, you’re shoplifting.”

Her aunt tipped the ash of her cigarette into an overflowing ashtray. “You’re growing a backbone. It’s enough to make your auntie proud, but I can’t be having you getting caught. That will not do.”

“I didn’t shoplift,” Libby stated through clenched teeth. “Yeah, whatever. You stole the cash, that’s all that matters.”

“And if I had the money my dad sent, I would have never lowered myself to that level.”

“Never say never. You’d be surprised at how that can come back to bite you in the ass.”

“You don’t know anything about me, so don’t pretend you do. The next time my father writes, I expect to get the letter. Unopened.” God, she hated this woman.

“You’d better learn to watch your mouth, or I’ll be doing it for you. Oh, and I wouldn’t go expecting anything soon. He hasn’t written in a few months. He’s probably moved on and forgotten you. It’s just you and me now, two peas in a pod.” A tiny bug crawled across the arm of her chair. AuntMarge grabbed a nearby newspaper and squashed it.

Libby wanted to reach out and slap the woman, but knew she never could. With lack of a good comeback, she turned on her heel and stomped upstairs. She needed privacy, away from this horrible woman who seemed to enjoy Libby’s pain.

Peter was waiting for her call. Talking to him would instantly take her mind off her troubles and her aunt’s betrayal. She slammed her door for effect.

9

After two weeks of late-night whispering and daily texting, Peter finally met up with Libby at Parfrey’s Glen for a full day together.

“I’d sure love to see you perform,” Libby said as they meandered through the woods, hand in hand.

“You want to come to a concert?” Peter acted surprised. “Of course I do! But that’s not going to happen. Not unless you’re playing Rockville High School’s homecoming dance.”

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. I’ve always wanted to go to homecoming; plus, I could call you out in front of everyone and declare my love.” He pulled her close.

Peter said he loved her! Sort of. Her face turned a predictable shade of pink. She was speechless.

“What? I’ve discovered how to keep you quiet for a change?” Peter grinned, enjoying her embarrassment.

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