Shame on Him

I can’t hide the shock from my face at the words that leave Dallas’s mouth. Is he actually sticking up for me? And why does this make me so happy and angry all at the same time? I should be sticking up for myself. But just like any other time I’m around my parents, I feel like nothing I say matters.

“Of course we’re proud of her. We just want to make sure she’s making smart choices in her life. The way she’s dressing and her careless attitude at work worries us that she’s being influenced,” my father replies, looking pointedly at Dallas and his tattoos.

Dallas stares him down and my father actually has the intelligence to look away. Unfortunately, my mother decides it’s time to rejoin the conversation.

“Have you spoken to Doug lately? How is he?”

I shouldn’t be shocked that she’s bringing Doug up. She does it every time we speak. But doing it in front of Dallas is a new low even for her. It’s not every day I bring a man to dinner. Obviously they must suspect we’re dating, even if it’s the furthest thing from the truth. In her mind, there’s nothing wrong with speaking of her daughter’s ex right in front of another man. And now Dallas gets to add one more thing to his long list of inadequacies about me.

“He’s fine, Mother. How are the plans coming along for the Make-A-Wish event next month?” I ask, hoping that she’ll get the hint and change the subject.

She doesn’t. “I just don’t understand why the two of you couldn’t work things out. You were so happy and you had a wonderful life together. Your father and I have had our differences, but we’ve always managed to work them out.”

She looks at me. Like it’s my fault because I didn’t try hard enough. I’ve heard this same speech so many times I could recite it by heart.

“How exactly would you suggest I work out the tiny little problem of him being gay? Marriage counseling? An intervention?”

Dallas snorts and at first, I assume he’s laughing at me. When I look over at him, though, he’s giving me a look of encouragement.

“There’s no need for sarcasm, Lorelei,” my father scolds. “You just didn’t spend enough time taking care of him. A wife should always put her husband first.”

Dallas can see the wounded look come across my face and once again, he tries to come to my rescue.

“If you ask me, this Doug person is the one who screwed up. Any man would be lucky to have Lorelei as his wife.”

I swallow the lump in my throat as I stare at him across the table. He winks at me and smiles.

My father, of course, can’t leave it alone. He has to add his two cents. “Well, we didn’t ask you, young man. Someone such as you wouldn’t understand the importance of a person’s standing in the community. Lorelei has a reputation to uphold and we just want to be certain she remembers that. Doug was a good catch. He had a respectable job with the clerk of courts and would have never thought that coming to dinner in jeans and a T-shirt was appropriate.”

I’ve officially had enough.

Throwing my napkin down on the table, I stand abruptly, my chair scraping across the hardwood floor of the dining room. It’s one thing when they insult me, but I won’t allow them to look down on Dallas. They don’t even know him. It strikes me that I really don’t know him either, but that’s beside the point. He tried to stick up for me and now it’s my turn.

“Lorelei, sit down. We aren’t finished with dinner,” my father says in exasperation.

“Well, I’m finished. I’ve lost my appetite.”

I see Dallas staring at me. His eyes are soft and encouraging. I can practically feel his strength floating across the table and wrapping itself around me.

I glare at my father. “I’m not a good enough lawyer because I don’t work as hard as you’d like and I wasn’t a good wife because I worked too much. It’s never enough for you. And believe me, it’s impossible to forget all the responsibilities you’ve strapped me with. You remind me every single day that I’m not living up to your expectations. I come here tonight wearing something other than a perfectly pressed suit and you immediately assume I’ve gone to the dark side. You can berate me all you want, but don’t you dare look down on him,” I fire back, pointing at Dallas. “You think he’s a negative influence? Why? Because he doesn’t fit in your perfect mold and he has tattoos? Well guess what? I have a fucking tattoo and I HATE being a Goddamn lawyer.”

My mother gasps, but I ignore her. I’m on a roll.

“I’ve missed all those meetings with Steve because I’m part owner of a private investigation company and I love it. I don’t want to spend my days in three-piece suits, kissing everyone’s ass just so I can get ahead. First thing Monday morning I’m walking into Steve’s office and telling him he can shove his partnership right up his fucking ass.”

And with that, I storm out, making sure to let the door slam behind me because I know my father hates it.

CHAPTER 11

Pacing back and forth in the driveway, I can hardly believe what just happened. Did I really tell my father off? Too bad Kennedy wasn’t here to see it. I feel like she would be extremely proud.

I hear the door open behind me and figure it’s my mother coming outside to tell me how appalling my behavior was. When I see Dallas charging down the steps toward me, my heart starts thumping wildly in my chest. I’m sure he’s coming out here to make fun of me and my terrible family. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">