Page 49 of Jerk
“So are all the girls you bring home?” I ask.
“Boys will be boys,” my father chuckles.
Fuck that. My fork slams on the table. “Well, did you know?—”
“It's time I finally get out of this robe.” Rye rises from his seat, cutting me off.
“You come right back,” my father says, like he’s obsessed with him. “You don’t want to miss dessert. We’re having soufflé.”
Rye nods and, without another look at me, leaves the room. Silence takes over, a chill coming with it. At least it feels familiar.
My mom lowers her glasses as she leans into my father, whispering, “Carlos, we didn’t order the soufflé."
“It’s alright, Elena.” My father straightens up as if he’s annoyed by the sound of his own wife. “We’ll have the tiramisu.”
“We don’t have that either, but I can?—”
“So, what did you get besides your whore legs?”
“Whoa, Pa!” There he is.
“I ordered what you asked.” My mother’s face turns red. “If you wanted tiramisu, you should’ve asked me for it, I can’t read your?—”
Slap!
My father’s hand connects to my mother's face, her glasses slipping.
“Have you lost your mind?” He rises from his seat. “Or did you forget whose home this is?”
“It’s my home too, Carlos!” But my father doesn’t want to hear it. I’m not sure what happened on the way here, but his fuse is shorter than usual. He topples her chair. She screams.
“Ma!” I move in front of her, playing my role as her human shield.
“Look at both of you,” my father says, unbuckling his belt. “You don’t think I know that you’re like your mother? You don’t think I know the game you’re playing with that boy? I will make sure he doesn’t end up like me.” He bends his belt in two, making a loop before raising it above his head.
“Hannah, move,” my mother demands.
“No!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that boy doesn’t lose his mind to the wrong woman and have a whore of a daughter to show for it.”
As he’s about to swing, a voice comes from the other end of the room. “Do we have a problem?”
EIGHTEEN
RYE
My fistsclench by my sides as I watch Hannah’s father lower the belt in his hand.
My soaked hair drips on the black tee I grabbed from the car, sticking to my skin. I didn’t take a second to dry off when I heard the commotion from the bathroom. Tying the string on my black joggers, my eyes scan the scene before they land on Hannah.
“Everything is just fine,” her father says, reaching out his hand for his daughter to take. She glances at me, hesitating before she takes it. He pulls her up with a force that makes her stumble. “Now, how about that cigar?”
Hannah fixes her dress before storming out of the room, nudging me with her shoulder on the way. “You need to leave.”
The front door slams as Hannah’s father lights his cigar, leaving his wife to get up on her own. I turn for the door, following Hannah as her father calls behind me. “Oh, don’t worry about her! She’ll be okay! You know women and their hysterics.”
Ignoring him, I step out into the crisp air, the sun starting to set. I follow that trail of that sweet perfume all the way down tothe dock at the edge of the property. It's far enough to be out of view, the house disappearing behind me the further down I go.
