Backwoods Backwards

Thirty-Five

After my confession, Duke takes me home as dusk falls outside. By the time we reach my street, I no longer feel as out of control as I used to, and knowing that I at least have Duke on my side despite all of my past helps that. I can't say whether or not I'll ever bring myself to tell my whole truth to anyone else, but this was a start, and I'm grateful for it.

My anxiety, however, strikes up to full speed at the sight taking place on my front lawn.

"What's happening?" Duke asks slowly, tapping on the break to draw us to a stop. He puts the car in park but lets the engine idle as we take in the sight before us.

Mom is clearly in a fit of rage as she storms in and out of the open front door hurling items onto the ground from our porch. Dad, a look of disbelief and frustration on his face, argues with her from several yards away but makes no move to get closer to her. At first I can't tell what she's throwing, but the moment when Mom chucks a set of glassware that could only have come from Dad's study, screaming louder when the glass shatters, I think I know what's going on.

And in a weird, twisted way, I support her for it.

"Oh my god," I breathe out, taking in the sight of my mother calling my father out on his infidelity. I roll the window down a bit experimentally, and Mom's shrill voice fills the quiet of the car.

"-you slick, sleezy, good for nothing son of a-"

I roll the window back up and stare in shock.

Duke glances over at me. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," I reply slowly, still watching this sight unfold. "It'd probably actually be better if you left."

Duke touches my wrist. "You gonna be okay if I do?"

My eyes flick over to meet his. "I know to call if I'm not."

Despite the fact my parents are still arguing in front of us, Duke leans across the console to kiss me softly on the lips. It's the first time for hours that he's been romantically affectionate with me, and after all my confessions, I'm pleasantly surprised.

"Okay," he murmurs as he draws back. "Then get your pretty ass out of my car."

Flipping him the middle finger, I laugh at his expression and climb out of his car, tapping the door once in goodbye before he pulls away.

"Myra, really? This is childish," Dad seethes, grabbing at clothes on the ground and bundling them up under his arm.

Mom's eyes go wide. "This is childish?" With her words, two more armfuls of Dad's things go sailing through the air to drop to the ground. "It's more of a long time coming, Rob."

I stand quietly, hesitating, as the vein on Dad's forehead becomes more prominent with his rage.

He opens his mouth to say more, but Mom beats him to it. "How long did you really think you could get away with it? Do you honestly think I'm that naive?" Mom laughs bitterly. "I've known for weeks, Rob, and I only kept my mouth shut because of the girls and the wedding. But no more," she says, shaking her head, "no more."

Dad scrubs a hand across his face, knowing he can't justify this. "Myra-"

"No." Mom snaps harshly, her eyes flashing. "I could come to accept most of it, but the worst part of it is that you felt comfortable enough to bring her to our house, where our family lives."

Dad looks away from her then, and it's that moment where both of my parents seem to finally acknowledge me standing there. For a second I see all the fight drain out of Mom when she looks at me, but then she draws herself up to her full height once more.