Southern Secrets Society: The Grooming | #Suspense | RomePi™

͋ 2 ͋ A Game Of Chess (BWWM)

My mom was convinced; his talent and mine sprung from the same source. She always claimed I got my artistic abilities from my father because we both shared an eye for making some of the most mind-blowing creations with our hands.

I was ready to set my grand scheme in motion, of course, in an attempt to make this trip to Dallas happen once and for all.

"It was pretty cool." I tried to position myself to ask the questions before my dad figured out that I needed something.

You see, my father is a genius when it comes to reading people. The quickest way to be turned in the opposite direction empty-handed was to allow him to figure out the purpose of the conversation before you were positioned to ask for his assistance. Jumping right into the pitch was the most effective way to handle any exercise in seeking anything from Dad. In no way should you allow him to get you sidetracked or dissuade you from whatever you hoped to accomplish.

Believe me, if he got the upper hand in the conversation, he was a mastermind at convincing people that they didn't need something, no matter how dire the situation was.

"My paintings won a national competition. I was invited to a ceremony to receive the Peeble's Collegiate Young Artist Award for my Moments In Time Series." I let that bit of fluff sidetrack them momentarily as I prepared to strike while they sat listening to the information with proud smiles gracing their faces.

"That's good. Where will the ceremony take place?" Mom asked.

"It's gonna be in Hot Springs. Thankfully, we already raised the money we need." I responded.

"Okay, okay. That's pretty good," he commented, eyes still focused on the carving.

For a moment, I thought I was good until he dropped a bomb on me.

"So, is there something else you haven't raised money for?"

Yeah. You guessed it. My dad found a way to fish out my reason for being there. He was a master chess player, and I found myself caught in my own trap, being the amateur that I am. As careful as I thought I was, my position was compromised as I somehow managed to give myself away.

With two siblings, money was pretty tight in our family. The bills were always paid on time, and there was always plenty of food to eat. Anything beyond that was considered a luxury, and it was certainly not guaranteed.

Clothes and school supplies were purchased twice a year. The beginning of school and Christmas Break were the two times when new items flowed into the house. That was the nature of my family's modest lifestyle. But there I was prepared to upend their hard-fought plans of maintaining the family budget they'd managed hawkishly down to the very last penny.

"I need $120 by Monday, February 18. That money will pay the rest of the cost for the junior Art Class trip to go to Dallas, Texas, in the spring." Then, finally, the words were spoken.

Patiently I hovered, watching my parents' expressions for some clue of what their answer might be.

They required plenty of time to work extra hours to accommodate my wish, and I was giving them four months of advance notice. However, I wasn't foolish enough to ignore the fact that this question was more significant than just asking in advance. Realizing they might object to the distance or the fact that I would be away from home for two days and two nights, there were so many obstacles that might prevent my parents from allowing me to go.

"Sweetheart, I think it's time you and I discuss a few things." The way my father said those words wasn't exactly promising. When he wanted to discuss, he either gave you what you wanted, or he didn't. I was determined I wouldn't give up, so I decided to come up with some alternatives hoping that Dad would help me out.