Rising from the Ashes (24 page)

Walking into the country club was like stepping back into my past that was full of unwanted emotions and memories. I was wearing my little black dress with a delicate lace overlay and lace sleeves from Zara and my favorite Louboutin red platform pumps. My hair was pulled back into a loose chignon, and my makeup was light, but I still felt completely out of place around all of those people. That wasn’t my world. I didn’t belong there, yet somehow, I was stuck plastering on a fake smile while I associated with people I had no desire to know.

The maître d’ walked me over to the table where my parents were sitting with two middle aged men in expensive suits.

“Savannah, darling. We’re so glad you could join us,” my mother said with a phony smile as she stood to kiss me on the cheek. “You couldn’t have put the tiniest bit of effort into your appearance tonight?” she whispered in my ear so that no one else could hear what she was saying.

I straightened and gave a tight-lipped smile to my father as he leaned in for an awkward one-armed hug. I hadn’t been there for thirty seconds and I’d already been insulted and made to feel unwanted. That had to be some sort of record.

“Gentlemen,” my father exclaimed, “this lovely woman is my daughter, Savannah.”

The enthusiasm in his voice turned my stomach because I knew it wasn’t real. He would have been more than happy not to have to deal with me. The only reason I was there was to attempt to make him look good.

“Savannah,” he said, turning his attention to me, “this is Phillip Waters and Paul Cordova.”

I turned to the men and replied politely, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

The seat next to my mother was pulled out for me, so I took my seat and breathed a small sigh of relief that at least the waiter was already there, taking drink orders.

“She’ll have a club soda,” my mother informed him when it was my turn to order.

I knew that I should have just smiled and nodded, acting as the good daughter for the evening, but I’d be damned if I was going to be stuck having dinner with my wretched parents without alcohol to relieve my pain.

“Actually,” I interrupted, “I’d like a vodka tonic.”

I felt the air around me change and I knew that I’d just poked the bear, but it didn’t matter. As far as Victoria Morgan was concerned, she was the definition of class. The last thing she would do was make a scene in public. But the look she shot me when no one was paying attention spoke volumes. Clear as day, it said,
Fuck this up, and I’ll ruin your life.

As if she could possibly make it any worse than it already is.

The waiter gave a curt nod and walked off to fill our drink orders.

I spent the next hour and a half in bored silence as my father droned on and on about everything he had to offer. I smiled when it seemed necessary and laughed when everyone else laughed, but I wasn’t even paying attention to anything he was saying. I was on my second vodka tonic, and the effects of the alcohol were thankfully starting to work. I was starting to become blissfully numb.

Everyone had just finished their main course and I was beginning to get excited at the prospect of leaving when Mr. Waters asked the one question I knew my parents were dreading.

“So, Savannah, what do you do?”

I picked up my water glass and took a healthy gulp before answering. “I work at Pruett & Carter,” I replied truthfully. I wasn’t embarrassed about my career, and I couldn’t care less if my family was.

“Ah, I see,” Mr. Cordova said. “You followed in your father’s footsteps and became an attorney. Is there a reason you chose not to work at Morgan & Carls?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but my father cut me off. “She’s always been a tenacious girl.”

He reached over and gave my hand a loving squeeze. At least, that was what bystanders would think it was, but I knew it was a warning to stay in check.

“She wanted to branch out on her own to prove her worth. I commend her drive.”

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped me when he said that. I tried my best to play it off as a cough, but there was no doubt my mother knew better. I didn’t know if it was the vodka tonics that had given me the unexpected sense of courage or the fact that I’d had absolutely enough of being dumped on to last me the rest of my life, but I could no longer sit idly by and act like the good little girl they expected me to be.

“Actually, I’m not a lawyer,” I replied with my first genuine smile of the night. “I’m just a paralegal.”

I could see the red creeping up my father’s neck from my peripheral vision, and I got a sick little sense of triumph, knowing I’d shaken his cool exterior. For that reason, I decided to continue. “And I always hated the atmosphere at Morgan & Carls. It’s so stuffy and pretentious, you know? Pruett & Carter is a wonderful firm.” I took that moment to stand and excuse myself to the restroom.

I wasn’t in there for fifteen seconds before my feeling of triumph was knocked on its ass by my mother pushing through the restroom door. If the look on her face didn’t let me know just how mad she was, the next words out of her mouth did.

“Listen here, you little brat,” she hissed out at me. “I know you’re used to hanging out with those white trash rednecks you call friends, but while you are in our presence, you will behave like a normal member of society.”

I opened my mouth to defend my friends, but she cut me off. “You’ve been humiliating your father and me your entire life, and it ends tonight. When you walk back to that table, I expect you to act the way we raised you to act.”

She took a step closer to me so that I could smell the mint on her breath. “If you don’t, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”

She turned on her Jimmy Choos and sauntered out of the restroom like nothing had happened while I stood there with my jaw hanging open in complete shock. As I watched my mom walk out of the restroom, it became clear. No matter what I did or how I acted, I was never going to be accepted by my parents. I’d always known that, but on some deeper level, I’d felt that they still loved me even if they didn’t show it. But neither one of my parents was capable of loving anyone but themselves. Why they ever decided to have a child in the first place was beyond me.

The toilet in one of the stalls flushed, and heat began to creep up my neck. Someone had been in there to hear the entire conversation between me and my mother. I ran into the next stall and locked the door until I could get myself in check. I breathed in and out deeply, willing the tears that threatened to fall back down. I refused to cry over my parents. They didn’t deserve it.

I sat on the toilet with my eyes squeezed shut as the other person in the restroom went about her business while finishing up at the sink. I finally got my tears under control and opened the stall door to see Charlotte standing at the mirror, reapplying lipstick. A shit eating grin spread across her painted lips when she saw me.

There was no possible way my night could get any worse.

Hoping that she would just finish up and leave, I ignored her and walked to the mirror to fix whatever damage I’d done to my mascara. Seconds later, my luck proved to be absolute shit.

“You’re not having a good week, are you?”

I wanted to slap the smug smile off her freshly glossed lips.

“First, your boyfriend, and now your parents? You just can’t stop letting people down.”

I clenched my fists together until my knuckles were white, my nails breaking the skin on my palms. The last thing I needed was to get into a fight in the women’s room of the country club. That would be the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was my life.

I chose not to respond, and I turned to exit the restroom before I did something I truly regretted.

“Oh yeah, don’t think I haven’t already heard all about you and Jeremy breaking up. Just goes to show what a mistake he made when he left me for you. I’m sure he’s regretting his decision right about now. He dumped class for trash. My friends were right. It was only a matter of time before he saw the error of his ways. Don’t worry, I won’t make him grovel too much when he comes crawling back to me.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. My stomach was knotted in pain. There was no fight left in me. I just wanted to get out of there. I wanted the comforts of my own home and bed. I felt like I was suffocating. The only chance I had to breathe again was to get out of that place and away from those people. I didn’t belong.

I yanked the door open and let my feet carry me to the dinner table. In a complete daze, I reached for my purse. As I began to turn to leave, my father grabbed my wrist to hold me in place.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked with a silent breath, trying not to draw too much attention to our exchange.

I looked around the table at my parents and their dinner companions. I didn’t even bother to address my mother and father. “Mr. Waters, Mr. Cordova, it was lovely meeting you, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call it a night.” I jerked my hand out of my father’s grasp.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Mr. Cordova asked with concern written all over his face.

In our brief conversations throughout the evening, it had become obvious that those two men were both decent individuals who had been conned by my mother and father. If it was the last thing I ever did, I was determined to set the record straight before either of the men got tied to something they would eventually regret.

“Forgive me for doing this here, but I think both of you gentlemen should know exactly who you’re considering putting your money behind.” I turned my full body to face both of the men as I pointed to my father. “Robert Morgan isn’t the kind of man you think he is. He’s a horrible husband and an even worse father. He’s an abuser, a cheater, and an all-around disgusting human being. Backing him for political office would be a bad decision on both your parts. If he’s elected as state senator, I suggest you move out of the district.”

I turned on my fabulous heels and strode out of the country club with my head held up just a little higher. Everything else might have been falling apart in my life, but I’d finally cut the cord tethering me to my parents. I was done with them, and that felt better than I could have imagined it would.

I sat alone in my living room with a bottle of whiskey in my hand doing the same thing I’d done every night for the past week and a half—getting drunk. I would wake up with a hangover, down water and aspirin, head to work, and then come home and start the whole damn thing over again. That had been my life since I left Savannah.

Nothing I did made me feel any better or loosened the knot that had taken permanent residence in my chest. Drinking didn’t ease the pain. It just allowed me to pass out for a few hours since sleeping wasn’t an option. I missed her. Not being with her was like losing a limb, but I couldn’t bring myself to forgive her. It wasn’t so much the abortion as it was knowing that she would always put me last.

I was about a half hour away from total oblivion when someone started knocking on my front door. I slammed the Jack down on the coffee table, and stood up, instantly staggered to the side, banging my shin on the coffee table. “Sonofabitch!” I muttered as I stumbled to the door, pulling it open without even checking to see who was standing there.