Starcross

Chapter Thirteen

Indianapolis, Indiana

 

            She sat in the dining room, attempting at having dinner, and listened to her parents argue in hushed tones from the other room. Normally they would have gone upstairs to argue, always in whispers as they never raised their voices, but tonight was different because they were discussing her future. Rebecca Norris, daughter of Senator Walter Norris, took another bite of her chili dog, giggling as her slightly older brother bobbed his head side to side in rhythm to ‘I’m Walking on Sunshine’ that spilled out from the radio Mom had hooked up in the kitchen.

            “They still fighting?” He asked, licking chili off his thumb.

            “Yeah,” She sighed, pushing macaroni noodles covered in cheese sauce around on her plate.

            “…the only way,” Rebecca heard her mother say. “They’re getting closer every day and they’re not slowing down.”

            “I know that Marianne,” Walter hissed. “I’m a Senator, I know all about this goddamned war. More than I care to…” Just then they reentered the large dining room and ceased their discussion, but it did little good because Rebecca already knew it was about her.

            “So how was your day kids?” Walter asked as he sat down at the head of the table, still wearing his dress shirt and tie from today.

            “We had another drill today,” Alex answered. “This one lasted three hours. I got a cramp and needed Maggie and Duane to help me get back to class.”

            “Isn’t Maggie the one with the bun?” Their mother asked.

            “You mean the second head?” Walter replied for him. Rebecca barely listened as she knew it was just filler, a way to distract all of them from her request.

            “Dad?” She asked during a lull. “Have you guys given any thought about what I asked?”

            Slowly, her father put down his fork, wiping his mouth and looking over at her mother. He chewed the last bit of food in his mouth slowly to buy time to find the words necessary, as all politicians were trained to do. Meanwhile, Marianne pursed her lips, hands folded in her lap.

            Before anyone said anything, Alex stood up with his plate. “Dinner was good, Mom.” Then walked out.

            “Rebecca, sweetheart,” She braced herself because whenever her father started a sentence with that it meant he had bad news. “You know we love you, and you know we only want the best for you.”

            “And we’re so proud of you graduating early and starting college right away,” Her mother cut in. Rebecca had worked overtime to get enough credits to graduate high school after her Junior year, all so she could escape her past; past boyfriends, past mistakes, ex-friends, she just wanted to get away from it all.