Eventide (Her Father, My Master) (2 page)

if I was going to be ostracized like this.

I just wanted to be with my master.

But I couldn't. Maddie left work a mere hour after I did, and an hour wasn't enough time for even the

shortest play session.

I hissed through gritted teeth as I caught my steering wheel in a vise grip on the drive home. Juvenile,

petty emotions welled up inside me once again. How could she ruin my life so thoroughly? Why couldn't

she just leave me alone? What kind of game was she playing?

Flashes of her standing behind the counter, giggling with Kat while glancing at me zipped through my

mind. What had they been talking about? Where they making fun of me, of the fact that Maddie so

successfully stole my boyfriend?

“Calm down,” I said to myself. I had to be above it all. I couldn't let myself sink into those petty

emotions, not again. They had gotten the best of me before, and while that had turned out well, there was

no guarantee that it would happen again.

But still, these thoughts roiled through my mind the entire drive home. As much as I wanted to stop

them, I couldn't. I certainly couldn't meditate, not while driving, so I was stuck. The only thing I could do was brush my fingers against the delicate scrolled metal surface of my collar. This was one thing Maddie

couldn't take away from me.

My mom sensed my tenseness the moment I walked through the door. She could be unusually

perceptive at times. Well, maybe not. Maybe I was just that obviously on edge.

“How was work?” she asked as soon as I walked through the front door. It was near the kitchen, and

all she had to do was pop her head through the threshold to catch me. She was good at catching me.

“Fine,” I muttered, making for the stairs, so I could get to the sanctuary of my bedroom. I needed to

calm myself down. To meditate.

But my mom was quick – before I knew it, she was standing in front of me, blocking my escape route.

“It doesn't sound fine,” she said sternly, looking straight at me. With a start, I realized I was actually a little taller than her, now. Obviously I'd been taller than her for quite some time, but it still came as a bit of a shock, to be reminded of it every now and again. I was growing up, or at least, I was supposed to be

growing up. I had to be mature.

“Okay, things weren't great at work,” I admitted ruefully. I glanced to the side, unable to meet her

gaze for long. She was my mom, after all.

“What happened at work?”

Maddie happened,
I thought, but I didn't voice my inner monologue. My parents still didn't know the extent of everything that had happened last year. How could they? How could I tell them, especially

about the sex part, especially to a repressed Catholic of a mom? Her embarrassment of sex was so

strong, it leaked out to me at times.

But I didn't know what else to say. I was never fast on my feet when coming up with lies and excuses,

and today was no exception. “Maddie's working there now, too.”

“Ah,” my mom said, and I looked back at her, seeing understanding flood her face. Did she know?

“Ah?” I repeated her wordless reply back at her in askance.

Her face took on a slightly more patronizing look, now. “Your father and I aren't stupid, Krystal. We

know you and Maddie had some problems over that boy.” She was referring to Joey, my ex-boyfriend,

and nothing more than a faint memory to me, now. “We heard through the grapevine that they started going

out immediately after you two broke up.”

“Maddie's free to do whatever she wants,” I said sullenly, looking down at my feet now.

In a patented awkward mom move, she put her hand on my shoulder, almost pushing me back. “And

you're free to feel how you want about it. I know I'd be angry, in your shoes.”

“Yeah, but it's in the past. It doesn't matter now.”

“I think it does.”

I glared up at her again. “So what if it does?” How could she know what I'm thinking, what I'm going

through? She'd never experienced anything like this! “They're not even going out anymore!”

“But the hurt is still there.” My mom was trying to sound so wise and all-knowing, and I hated it when

she did this. I shouldered my way past her, up to my room. I needed to get away from her, from

everyone. I just wanted some quiet time to myself.

Thankfully, my mom didn't follow me, or yell at me. The only thing she said as I stalked to my room

was, “Dinner will be ready in an hour!”

Fine, great. Dinner was the first thing on my mind. Except for the memories of betrayal that my mom

had pulled back to the surface again, and the overwhelming anger at that bitch, that girl I used to call

friend.

“Calm down,” I commanded to myself as I shut the door with exaggerated care and flopped onto the

bed. Flicker was there, and I thankfully ran my hand through his dark fur. He could always calm my

nerves, at least somewhat. He was good at that. It must have been some sort of magical cat ability he

had.

What was I going to do? I could always quit my job, but my parents wouldn't be happy about that.

One of their stipulations for me coming home for the summer was that I get this job, and work it full time.

So I would have to find another one, and that was definitely easier said than done. Jobs were becoming

increasingly scarce as summer break continued. High school had already let out for the summer, so the

streets and businesses would be flooded with those kids who were also looking for jobs.

And it felt like quitting would be letting Maddie win. She took my boyfriend away a year ago, she

couldn't have this, too.

But I would have to find a way to cope with her. For hours on end. I wasn't sure how to do that.

For now, I sank quickly into a meditation, closing my eyes and drawing up happy memories,

comforting tableaus from my childhood. Scenes of the beach, the forest, the local county fair flooded my

mind with memories of sights, sounds, and smells, and for just a few minutes, I felt that deep and abiding

contentedness that came with those thoughts.

Maybe it was more than just a few moments. Before I knew it, my mom was calling me for dinner.

I hadn't fallen asleep. Dozed, maybe, with Flicker purring on my chest, a hot, heavy feline weight, but

I didn't sleep.

Carefully, I lifted the protesting cat from my body, and placed him lightly on the bed. He grumbled, but

curled up on himself and continued his own nap. “Be back later, buddy,” I whispered to the little cat

before leaving the room. I'd missed him so much.

My parents, I hadn't missed quite as much, and I was worried the interrogation of my day was going to

continue once I reached the dinner table. I was right.

“So, how was your day, honey?” my dad asked as soon as I entered the cold, hard room. Kitchens

always seemed that way to me – there wasn't anything soft or comforting about them – no carpets, no

couches or beds, no blankets or fluffy pillows. Just a hard wood floor, stony granite counter tops, and a

bunch of tools and utensils that could work as torture devices. The kitchen had never been my favorite

place in the house.

“Fine,” I said in a stirring repeat performance of my answer to my mom's earlier question. “Really,” I

added, thumping myself down into my accustomed seat, avoiding the gazes of both mom and dad. I

grabbed a bowl of food. It was mashed potatoes. “It was just a little tiring. It's my first week back at

work, you know?” I continued when they didn't say anything, just staring at me.

They still didn't say anything, and my skin began to crawl. Why weren't they talking?

“Maddie works there now,” I sullenly admitted to my dad. Like he could do anything about it.

“Ahhhh,” he said as he stabbed a pork chop off the plate. What was up with my parents and their

attachment to that sound?

“Yeah,” I grumbled as he passed me the plate of meat. Suddenly, I found myself just wanting to be in

my room again. Or with Mr. Hendricks. But I couldn't be with him. Maddie was there now.

“Are things still tense between the two of you?” he asked, oblivious to my agitation.

“Of course they are.” Jeez, did everyone know that she stole my boyfriend away from me? And how

could it still affect me so strongly? More than a year had passed since that fateful event, after all.

Sometimes I hated my mind for dwelling on these things so much.

“Ah,” he said, and I wanted to scream. If they wanted to talk to me, fine. But they had to actually talk.

I glared down at my plate, then realized with a start that I was letting my emotions get the best of me

yet again. I had to be better about this. I had to be calmer. More mature. My parents probably didn't

even realize how much they were aggravating me. I took a deep breath, calming myself once again.

Maybe things would go better if I opened up more, and took a deep breath.

“It's just hard to work with her,” I said as I grabbed my fork and poked at the pork chop. Opening up

was harder than I thought, especially with my parents. “Because, well, you know.”

My dad nodded, and I caught a momentary fire in my mom's eyes. “You are going to have to work

with people you don't like,” he said lightly. “It's just the way things are. Work places are so big that

there's always going to be someone that you butt heads with.”

“Is there anyone you don't like, at your job?” I asked, feeling perplexed. This was the first time I'd

ever shown interest in my dad's work, and we both knew it.

“Of course there is,” my dad said, and my mom rolled her eyes.

“You can't stand Gary Peterson,” she said with a scowl.

“Who's that?”

“Oh, this guy who got a promotion over me,” my dad tried to remain calm and conversational, but I

could tell from a familiar eye twitch that he was getting more than a little aggravated. Not by me, at least.

“Is he your boss now?”

“No, thank God. If he was I think I'd go find a nice tall building to jump off of.”

I looked at him, astonished, but he only laughed. “Don't worry, I wouldn't really,” he assured me. Not

that I was worried that he would really commit suicide, but I was surprised to learn that he didn't get

along with everyone under the sun. My dad was such a likeable guy, I thought. Most other kids had

problems with their parents, both of them, but I only really had issues with my mom. My dad was

vanialla. He was toast. Who didn't like toast?

“He's in another department, now,” he continued as he ate a piece of pork. “But I was supposed to get

that job, that promotion, and he went around me, and everyone in my department. Nobody likes him.”

“That must be hard on him.”

“Not really, everyone loves him in his new department, so I guess it all worked out. That was years

ago, anyways.”

“Don't you... you know, hate him?”

My dad sighed and put his fork down. “Hate's an expensive, resource consuming emotion. I try not to

hate anyone, and I certainly don't hate Gary. We just don't get along very well.”

I needed to learn to be more like my dad. “Okay.” But I wasn't like him. “I really don't want to go

back to work,” I admitted.

“But you have to. That's part of our deal,” my mom interjected.

“But why? I don't need a job. I don't need the money.”

“Yes you do, and you need the experience,” she pointed out, and I grumbled.

“No I don't. It's not like working in a coffee shop is anything like working in an office.”

“It's more like it that you know, and you will keep that job,” my mom said sternly. I looked to my dad

for help, but he only shook his head and took another bite of dinner. I was on my own in this regard. I

knew they were right, though. I did need a job. I did need the money, too, if I wanted to get my own

things.

I just needed to figure out how I was going to handle the Maddie situation.

I was in my room, and the early summer sun was setting when I got a text from my master. A thrill ran

up my spine when I quickly thumbed my way to the message. Could it be, did he want me to come over?

Was Maddie out of the house? I'd checked the schedule today, and I knew she wouldn't be working

against for another couple of days, so that couldn't be it. Unless she was at a party.

I took a deep, whistling breath. Ever since that last party at Spring Break, I hadn't been to another

one. Not that I'd had much of a chance, but I didn't want to go to one. Parties scared me. College boys

scared me. They were so unpredictable, so selfish, so... so violent. They had none of the control that my

master had.

But my master didn't want me to come over. His text merely read:
Do you have any thread?

Perplexed, I cast about my room, looking for thread. I had an emergency sewing kit around here

somewhere. I dug through my drawers, and boxes that I had yet to unpack from my trip back to my

parents' house, looking feverishly for the kit. I had a feeling that I knew why my master was asking me

this.

Finally, I triumphantly pulled the kit out of one of my desk drawers, buried underneath old notebooks

and dried up pens. I returned his text with one simple word:
Yes.
And then I waited, scarcely able to breathe.

His reply came not five minutes later:
Tie yourself up. You know how. Come three times, then tell

me how many threads you broke.

My eyes widened at the command. Was he truly going to control me like this, from so far away?