Page 99 of Ecstasy
My skin crawls. “And he doesn’t know anything?”
Alex doesn’t answer me. At all. He just stares at the road, silent.
I don’t press, and I don’t know why. I think about Eli holding me under the water. About his fingers curling inside of me the night of the bad party. How he lied to Alex about me flashing him. But Eli isn’t bad, is he?
I don’t say anything, and we drive in silence for a long, long time, until Alex says, “I have to stop by my dad’s before we get to the beach house.”
I turn to glare at him, indicating I’m not fucking going inside his house, when he beats me to it. “You can wait in the car.”
I’m not sure if I should be offended by that or relieved since I definitely wasn’t going in anyway. Still, the way he says it, like he’s dismissing me, hiding me. Whatever. I’m not his anyway.
32
Alex
Dad is pissed.
“You’re back for the party? You should’ve just stayed. We need you here.” His tone is even, his voice low, but I know him. He’s staring at me from the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against it, one foot crossed over the other, hands in the pockets of his khaki pants. They’re rolled up at the ankle, showing off his year-round tan.
He’s got a white golf shirt on. This is his standard pastor uniform. Beachy, to help make him “one of the people.”In this palatial house, nearly ten thousand square feet, French doors leading out from the kitchen to the inground, Olympic-sized pool at his back, it’s unlikely my father remembers what it’s like to be one of the people.
Grove Community has thousands of congregants year-round, a one-off in a beach town known for its tourist seasons. My father didn’t exactly come from nothing, my grandfather had his hand in some Wall Street shit and all of that money passed down to his three sons. But this? The high ceilings, commercial stove, three full-time staff members and four-car garage? Yeah, I guess this all came down from God.
I also happen to know my parents are nearly drowning in debt and with this fucking divorce that is bound to be coming, it’s all about to get really messy. But that’s God and Preacher Cardi’s problem, not mine.
“Sorry,” I say, dropping down into a stool at the marble kitchen island. “Forgot I was here at your beck and call for yourmistakes and not living my own life. My bad.”
“You know after the latest scandal, I needed you here,” he goes on, turning to track my movements, still leaning against the doorway. He runs a hand over his dark blonde hair, his blue eyes flashing.
I look like my mother’s child.
Which reminds me. “I was here most of the week,” I say through gritted teeth. “Besides, I didn’t stop by for you. How is Mom? Any more bombs hit?” I clasp my hands together on the table, refusing to look away from him. We don’t fight exactly, but this secret that’s been between us since I was fifteen has put a considerable strain on any chance of a good relationship between us both. I guess now it’s not really a secret.
I think of Mom this past week, sleeping most of the day away. I think of her wanting a divorce. She told me, a quiet confession one night.
My father doesn’t know.
Just like he doesn’t know about me and Zara.
I clench my fists on the table, thinking about her in my car right now.
She didn’t come for me. I know that much. She came for an escape. For something to do. Not me. But I didn’t want her to show up on someone else’s arm, and besides that, I didn’t want to be alone either. I need an escape, too.
And before she tries to escape my car, which would be just like her, I’ve got to make this shit quick.
Dad rolls his eyes. “This isn’t that, Alex.” He’s in fucking denial.
“There were pictures,Dad.”
He grinds his teeth together, eyes narrowing. I see lines in his tan face and his eyes are a little red, too. Nothing like Zara’s, but still. I guess he’s been trying to drown his pain, too. Soon I’ll have two parents who are addicts.
Lovely.
“Pictures of me helping a member in need?”
“You needed to take her to Saks to help her? Couldn’t have a driver do that for you? Couldn’t just make a donation—”
“Being the hands and feet of Jesus requires being the hands and feet, Alex. Not hiring paid servants to do the hard stuff for you.”
