The next few weeks fly by. The house sells within the week, and mom makes out like a baller, getting triple for what she paid on the house.
The only downer is dad stopping by to sign some of the legal papers. I hover unashamedly outside their bedroom door and listen to him wheedle and cajole. He begs mom for a percentage, but I’m having none of it.
I throw open the door, ready to kick his cheating ass. It must be written across my face, as my dad’s look of confidence turns to concern. “Not now, Katie. Your mother and I are having a conversation.”
My narrowed eyes stare him down. I’m not moving an inch. “I’m just here for moral support, Dad. Carry on.”
“Some things need to be said, Katie, but they’re not your concern.” His fatherly look used to intimidate me; now it just ticks me off.
I stand at my mother’s side faithfully and channel the bravery and gumption of Emma as Billie Jean King, who fought fearlessly for equality. “If you’re talking finances, then it is very much my concern, as I’m the only person who can be halfway objective.” My pointer finger aims straight at his lying lips. “We got the house ready, and we sold it, so we keep the money. End of story.”
“That’s absurd. I bought this house, Katie.” Dad’s voice carries some warning, but all I see is a green light.
“Yes, yes, you did. But since that day, mom has done the cleaning, the cooking, the scheduling, and the upkeep. She’s been an unpaid babysitter and maid your entire marriage.”
His arms cross on his chest. “You’ve become a feminist now? Is that what this tirade is all about?”
“No, Dad. This is about what’s fair. Mom sold the house and mom deserves the money. That’s all I’m saying. But, if you think she doesn’t, well, I think it’s more than fair that you pay for the therapy I’m going to need after being traumatized by what I saw. In the closet. I’m sure there’s some sort of professional penalty or fine involved with having sex in the workplace. I may even be able to talk Debbie into a sexual harassment suit. She seems like a bit of a gold digger.”
“Katie, are you blackmailing me?” His voice sounds a little squeaky.
“I’m not blackmailing you, Dad. I’m only looking out for everyone’s best interests. You wouldn’t want a sex scandal getting out at your work, it’s bad for business.”
He throws up his hands. “You are unbelievable. I can’t believe my own daughter would...”
My eyes glare daggers and cut him off. “And I can’t believe my own father would force us out of house and hometown because of his indiscretions, but that is where we find ourselves.”
Dad stomps out of the room and heads down the stairs. I turn to face my mom. Her shock embarrasses me, but I’m not about to admit it. “Well, that’s that then.”
“Katie. Don’t stay mad at your dad forever. It’s not healthy.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you’re right, Mom, but forever’s a long time, and it hasn’t even been a month.”
She claps her hands. “New subject! I rented a U-Haul.”
“You did?”
A big smile fills my mom’s face, and I’m so happy. “Ohio, here we come.”
I hold up my hand for a high five. “Damn straight!”
Our reflection in her dresser mirror catches my eye. We stand side by side, and once again I’m struck by the contrast in our images: mom is every inch a tiny ballerina in her petite frame with perfect grace and poise, a blonde version of Audrey Hepburn. I stand beside her tall and imposing, her only child; an off-kilter combination of my two parental units with big hazel eyes, thick, unruly wavy chestnut hair, and a mouth of such proportions it could give Cameron Diaz and Julia Roberts a run for their money.
My shoulders slump. Once again, I feel like I take up too much space, a natural feeling for me.
Mom wraps an arm around me and lays her head against my shoulder. “I love you, Katie Sapphire Albright.”
All of me settles into her. “I love you too, mom.”