Page 12 of SnowBound

“I already told Mother I’d be home by noon tomorrow, which means I’ll have more than enough time to be ready for five o’clock.”

“You never tried the gown. How will we be sure it fits?”

What my parents called a gown was a demure boat-neck maxi dress with long sleeves, showing the bare minimum of skin and curves, in a not-so-lovely shade of pickle and reddish-brown. Not flattering. Not Holidays-ish. Not meant for a girl my age. I would look like I had escaped from the pages of a bad fashion magazine from the nineteen-twenty era. Not my greatest moment.

“The tailor made it for me, and I confirmed my measurements a month ago. It will fit just fine. Everything is set. I’ll be home in time. Overreacting won’t fix the situation.”

My father sighed, the proof I exhausted him. “Your tone, young lady. This night is important to me, Abigail. Don’t mess it up. And no repeat of last year. Troy Burgundy is a gentleman; don’t try to portray him otherwise. You’ve done enough for a lifetime as it is. No more acting out. And stop stressing your mother with all the nonsense. It’s about time you learn to behave. Don’t be late. Good night.”

Before I could reciprocate, he hung up on me. Great, I’d talked more to my parents in the last hour than in the last three months, and all I received from them were warnings and disappointment.

“Who was that?” a voice asked from my left and for a moment, I had forgotten I had company. “Your dad?”

I folded and unfolded the paper napkin on the table, avoiding the gaze I could feel weighing on me. “Yep.” Emotions swirled inside me. I hated the fact my parents would have preferred I was a different person. It stung. A lot. Even when I pretended I didn’t care or that it didn’t hurt me. It still did. “They’re not happy about the fact I’m stranded here. They had assumed I’d land tonight, and I seem to have deceived them and fucked with their planning or expectations of me. Whatever.”

“How is it your fault?”

“Exactly.” I slumped in my seat, looking up, tired of trying to please them and never succeeding. “It always ends up being my fault somehow. I’m used to taking the blame.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

I straightened my stance, not wanting to take shit for actions that weren’t mine anymore. “You’re right. My degree, it’s my ticket toward independence. Toward the life I have dreamed for myself. If I don’t attend college, they’ll try to coerce me into becoming a trophy-wife. No, thank you. That is not the life I have pictured for myself.”

“I’m glad you’re holding your end. Don’t let anyone turn you into something you’re not.”

“Not my intention.” At his words, my happiness returned. Yeah, I would follow my own beat. And break free of the chains my parents had tried for so many years to tie me with. I’d be my own star. Bright and shiny. One day I’d prove to them I was destined to become someone I valued and make it the way I intended to. My lips curled up of their own volition. I could see it all in my head. My dreams, my successes, my achievements. I’d be a rock star in my field. Passion would lead my actions and take me where my heart belonged. All because of me. All because I was following my gut. “I think I have an idea. Are you in?”

My table neighbor watched me with a funny expression. “Will it be safe for me?”

I shrugged and snickered. “It depends.”