Page 18 of Wasted Oil

Melanie

After leaving the bookshop the weight on my shoulders multiplied. Seeing Roxy helped my nerves none, I was thankful for Alex when she discreetly snuck me out. Facing anyone with the last name Parker right now is a no go.

I start to feel the anxiety creep in as I drive through the streets. Rita’s Diner where Rhett first told me that I was his best girl, the bowling alley where Alex and I ate our weight in nachos, and finally, I pass the movie theaters where I held Rhett's hand for the first time watching Friday the 13th on Halloween day all the while Johnny and Alex sucked each others faces. Talk about awkward.

I drove with the window down letting the wind go through my hair, I missed this. The feeling of familiarity. If only things were different and I didn’t need to leave. You muenca you didn’t have to leave. My conscience is right. I didn't have to, Alex had offered me to stay with her and her mom on multiple occasions. But I just couldn't do it, being in the same house , the same town. That he is the “King” No way in Satan's home was I going to survive if I had stayed. He would have found me and forced me to become the person I didn’t picture myself as.

Why? Because that's what kind of man he is.

My father.

In no time flat, I find myself down the road where the houses are big and old. This is considered the ritzy side of town. Lawyers, Doctors, the Mayor, you know the ones that come from money. Then there’s me and my family, the family that has been here the longest. The ones that started the neighborhood. Everything looks the same and smells the same, but also different at the same time. The same people doing the same thing everyday. When our old mayor announced that she would be building an outlet-mall where the old drive-in used to be, the town went up in a riot. Sadly, the following election she was not voted for again. “Don’t mess with Texas,” is a real thing, we take it very seriously.

My father went home that day angry, saying “Why mess with perfection?” Which is exactly what he does every time he decides to expand the business. Too bad we couldn’t vote to take him out of his empire.

As I continue to make my way toward the house of horrors, I find myself wanting to throw-up and pass out at the same time. The nerves and the excitement combined have my head spinning. My head tells me to turn around and drive back to Al's and start drinking early. You must face them at some point Mel. My conscience keeps me from turning around. I need to face the music and get down to the bottom of whatever is going on. I know in my gut something is wrong.

As soon as I punch in the gate code the black iron opens and I head down the paved road taking in the changes done to the house. The outside has been repainted. Instead of the light brown, it is now a white two-story house black accents and flower beds pouring with tons of bluebonnets.

I pull into the driveway, the front door immediately swings open and out runs a much bigger and taller version of my little brother. I reveal a smile that is both genuine and fake and jump out of the truck. When my feet hit the ground I’m hit with the brick wall.

"Mel! You made it! For a second there I thought ma was playing with me when she said you were on your way.” He tightens his grip and picks me up, my feet dangling in the air. I squeeze him back with the same fierceness.

"I'm just visiting. I'm not here to stay X.” He brings me in for an even tighter hug.

"Xavier can’t breathe ” I tap him on the shoulder making him pull back. For a moment it was silent, and in that silence a million different questions demanding answers. Instead I settle for a lighter conversation topic.

"So, hermanito… How’s college treatin ya? How are the grades? Any girlfriends? What about baseball?” He scoffs, shaking his head

"Good, and to answer your questions, school is amazing. Baseball couldn't be better, I mean me and RJ are both on the team and kicking ass and taking names. What else could I ask for?” He spreads his arms to each side with his chest out looking like he owns the world.

"Yeah? And what about the girlfriend part?” He looks down at the ground running his hand through his hair down to his neck. He is flustered, whoever has him like this must be something. He opens his mouth to speak just as the sound of heels pass the front door. Our mother is running down the steps.

"Mi amor! You made it!” Just like X, she wraps me into her arms in a giant bear hug. The touch is foreign, she smells the same but the embrace is different. It’s as if she were to let go I might float away again. I force myself to hug her back. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother and I will always cherish her but there was a little piece of me that resented her for not ever sticking up for me or leaving.

"Hi mamá.” Tears threaten to fall. To most people five years away is nothing, the difference though is the circumstances you leave under. Every night for the past five years when I would fall asleep the image of her falling to her knees and screaming for me not to leave plays like my own personal hell loop.

She pulls back letting me go, wiping the tears that fell from her eyes.

"Come, I have dinner cooking and a dessert in the oven, and your father can’t wait to see you.” I stutter as she takes my hand and leads us inside.

Stepping into the house, the aroma of apple pie and whatever is cooking hits me in the face. I haven’t had a home cooked meal like mamás in a long time. My stomach lets out a grumble.

“Baby I made your favorite, and I even made your bed up in your old room. Along with fresh towels and everything that you’ll need. If you don’t like the pillows or the blankets or the towels I can get you something else.” I crack a genuine smile as she continues to ramble on about what she can get me and what she can change if I don’t like it. This might not be so bad after all. But that thought is shut down with her next words.

“Mija, your dad is in the living room, go and say hi.” I knew it was inevitable but I know I should.

Getting up from my stool I head towards my impending doom like the part in the movie where the bad guy is around the corner and you freeze instead of running for your life. Yeah I should be running but I don’t, my legs have their own mind right now following the person ahead of them not caring with what awaits for the person that they carry.

The closer I come to a complete stand still as I take in the hallway that holds memories of our family. Pictures of the past literally flash by. On the left side of the hallway is a dusty blue wall that clutters thousands of photos from our childhood dating back all the way from when I was born. Mama was very proud of everything that I did and she wanted to show me that I was loved as a little girl, if not by my father at least by her.

A little further down a picture in a gold and brown frame catches my attention. It was me and my father. I remember that day too, I was around six or seven and daddy took me out to finally ride my horse, Dolly.

“That's it baby girl, now pull on the reins a little and tell her which way you want to go.”

"Like this daddy?” I pull back on the reins a little tugging them to the right to take her around the barrel. As soon as I came to a stop from turning, daddy was right by my side smiling ear to ear. Just then mama came out and shouted for a picture.

"On the count of three 1…2…3.” And there it was the only picture that me and my father had that we were genuinely happy and the last day that I ever smiled alongside him.

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