Page 3 of Bound in Sacrifice

Father finally came stumbling up our driveway around 3:00 this morning. He mumbled something about Reggie and then passed out on the sofa. I don’t know what to do about him anymore. He is my father and I’ll never give up on him, but I can’t,wecan’t keep living like this. We’re up to our eyeballs in debt because of his drinking and that awful club. I don’t know how he can even still afford to pay for his membership. He hasn’t worked in over a year and his unemployment money is long gone.

“Father,” I speak up once I realize he’s fallen back to sleep. “Father!”

I jolt him awake with my words and force a cup of coffee into his hands.

“Drink up. You have a job interview this afternoon.”

He grumbles his annoyance and takes the mug of hot liquid from my hands.

“Rosabelle,” he speaks up after several mouthfuls of coffee, “Whatever happened to that promotion that you were supposed to get at work? We would be fine living on just that salary alone.”

“Father,” I pause, trying to compose myself, but the anger is boiling within me. “You should already know what happened with the promotion,” I manage to get the words out through gritted teeth.

A few weeks ago, I got a call in the middle of the day to come and pick up my father from Philippe’s, a bar in the city that my ex-boyfriend’s family owns. My father was drunk...again. As much as it pained me to do so, I begged Gavin to keep an eye on him for me, just until my interview was over. Gavin thinks he’s God's gift to women, but he’s nothing more than a disgusting pig. He said he would watch father, but only if I promised to go out to dinner with him. I agreed, just to get him off of the phone.

Imagine my surprise when, in the middle of the interview, my boss, my supervisor, and I heard shouting coming from the office lobby of our office. We left the conference room to find the source of the commotion and found Gavin hitting on the receptionist. My extremely drunk father had tripped over one of the chair legs, fallen to the ground, and was unable to get up.

I’d never been so mortified in my entire life. When I was finally able to get Gavin out of there and put my father in a cab for home, I was able to explain the situation to my boss. I told him how my mother died three years ago, and my once perfect father had fallen into a deep depression. With Mother gone, I took over the duties she left behind. Father and I made the most out of our situation for a little while, but he was never the same. Once my knight in shining armor, the man who I looked up to and loved most of all, became my greatest burden. My boss said that she understood and that I would be allowed to keep my job, but she wouldn’t be able to promote me at that time.

Fucking Gavin.

I should have just asked my boss if we could reschedule the interview. Iknewasking Gavin for anything was a mistake. When we were together, all he would talk about was getting married, and having me quit my job so I could stay home and take care of the brood of children he wanted to have.No, thank you. I want much more out of life than to stay at home and be a kept woman, and especially nothiskept woman. Taking care of my father these past few years has taught me that this is not the life that I am destined to lead; at least, I hope it’s not.

After the incident at my office, Gavin told me that his offer of marriage still stood and that I wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever again. He promised that he would take care of Father and me, and money would cease to be an issue.

If I wasn’t so angry at him that day, I might have taken him up on the offer. Even in our small, modest house outside of the city, we can barely afford to live on my salary alone.

“Why don’t you just accept Gavin’s offer of marriage, then? It would make our lives so much easier.”

“No, Father. It would makeyourlife easier,” I feel myself cracking beneath the surface. “I’m not going to marry someone just so you don’t have to work, or have to worry about where your next drink or fuck will be coming from.”

The shock of what I just said to my father hits both of us at the same time. I've never spoken to him like that before. The hurt in his eyes is palpable and guilt settles into my stomach like a boulder.

“I took impeccable care of this family for 25 years! Is it too much to ask that someone take care of me in return, Rosabelle?”

He throws his fork down on the table as he rises out of his chair. He shoots daggers at me as he rushes out of the kitchen, and down the hallway to his room. I hear the shower turn on and I hang my head. I know I shouldn’t have spoken to him that way, but I’ve had enough. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, but it’s been a long time sinceIgot any respect around here either.

That needs to change. Starting today.

* * *

I watchthe seconds tick away until I get to go home. It has already been a very long and tiring day and I don’t know how I’m going to make it until 5:00. Between my late night and the fight with my father this morning, I’m surprised I’ve made it this long without crashing. I’ve contemplated asking to leave early several times, but can’t bring myself to do it. I rarely take leave, and the disastrous events that occurred a few weeks ago are still fresh in my mind. I don’t want to press my luck by asking for a favor so soon. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to rid the stain on my reputation that day left behind. Just as I’ve talked myself into getting back to work, my office phone rings.

“Provincial Marketing, Rosabelle speaking,” I recite into the receiver.

“Hello Rosabelle, this is Mr. Roberts from the bookstore.”

“Mr. Roberts, hello,” I respond, hoping he’s calling me to say he’s hired Father.

“I’ve been expecting your father for his interview, but he hasn’t shown up yet. Are you with him? Do you know if he’s still coming?”

Fuck.

I can feel the hot, angry tears forming in my eyes. My father blew off his interview. After this morning, I don’t know why I even assumed he would still go freely.

“I’m so sorry.” I can’t stop the tears from falling this time. “I’m not with him. I should have known this would happen... Please, forgive me for wasting your time, Mr. Roberts.”

“Rosabelle, you know you’re not wasting anyone’s time. Whenever you can get your father here for the interview, whether that’s today, tomorrow, or next week, I’m okay with that.”

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