if I would “be a bestie” and run up to her room to grab her white pashmina because she had to fetch her tote from the kitchen.
My father widened his eyes at me. I widened mine back. And then Warren Hutsall, who hadn’t yet acknowledged my existence, gently pushed me in the direction of the stairs, going, “Of course you’ll get Jinny’s pashmina, won’t you, darling?”
I couldn’t find the shawl. I’d seen it earlier, when Jinny was trying it on in the mirror, but it wasn’t in the bedroom or closet. I found it, finally, in the bathroom. By the time I made it back downstairs and out the door, the limo was gone and Sherman was standing in the empty driveway looking confused.
Jinny had accidentally booked a too-small white limo and they were way crammed in as it was, and so they’d gone on ahead. Without me. Wha…? The drive to Sacred Heart was less than fifteen minutes, but that wasn’t the point. And my girls—how did they just leave me like that? They know I have abandonment issues.
Sherm had come in a car service. My Prius was parked on the street and we obviously couldn’t wait for an Uber, so instead of riding with the Hive I had to drive with my freaking father. I stepped on the gas, tearing through the empty streets, daring Sherman to mention my speeding. He did. And he couldn’t bite his tongue when I didn’t signal a turn at no one on the road. Then he cleared his stupid throat and goes, “That dress looks a size too small. It’s pulling around the waist.” I flipped the radio on to stop him from saying more. He turned the volume down. I turned it back up. He turned it down. I turned it up. He shouted over the music, “Everything okay?” Nothing was okay and questions like that just pissed a person off when they were in the middle of being torn. I turned the volume up until the windows rattled. Sherman slapped my hand away from the button and turned it down. “Gosh, Rory.”
“Gosh? Gosh? No more Jesus Christ?”
“Don’t be offensive. You know I found the light.”
“Offensive? Sherm, you said ‘Jesus Christ’ a thousand times while I was growing up and you said ‘Jesus fucking Christ you’re crazy Shell!’ when my mother found out you were cheating.”
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t cheat.”
“Really? That’s your move?”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“Um. Kinda does.”
“I am your father and I deserve your respect.”
“I think a person has to earn respect, Sherm.”
“Like the money I earned to spend on the ball? This night is setting me back nearly ten grand. Do you understand that? I deserve your respect, and your gratitude. I deserve those things.”
“I guess people don’t always get what they want, Dad. Isn’t that what your Rolling Stones say? And Jagger Jonze?”
“Don’t embarrass me in front of the Reverend tonight.”
“Um. Okay.”
“What has your mother done to you, Rory? How is she raising you?”
“Alone.”
He hissed through his teeth. “I only agreed to this thing because I thought it’d be a chance for us to bond.”
I hissed back through mine. “I only asked you to come because I had to.”
He made a pout face. “RorRor.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I want you to know my—”
“Wife? I already know her. I creep her Zipix. Actress. Wife. Spontaneous Dancer.”
“Stop.”
“All that dancing must be fun. My mother doesn’t dance much anymore.”
“What happened between me and your mother doesn’t change anything between you and me.”
But you’re wrong, Sherman. What happened between you and my mother revealed you to me, and changed everything. What happened broke the most important person in my world. What you did changed the way I understand love. Which is not at all. I didn’t say any of that, though. I just said, “Glad you’re walking in the light, Sherm. Hope you don’t get burned.”
We didn’t say anything more until we neared Sacred Heart, and that’s when Sherman sighs and goes, “Jinny Hutsall seems like a real sweetie. You could learn a thing or two from her.”
A sweetie? Learn a thing or two? Little did he know all the things I could learn from Jinny Hutsall. I kinda wanted to tell him what I knew about Jinny Hutsall and see if he’d still call her a sweetie. I thought if I had to listen to him breathing in the seat beside me for one more second I’d drive into a wall.