“And I had plans on you and Bella finishing your degrees and not wasting my damn money too!” Terry snapped. “And how do you expect to get a job that’s worth a damn with just a high school education, huh?”
Stefan’s features became tight with anger, and I took a small break from stuffing my face, fearing that there was about to be a big blow-up. “I have every intention of going back to school.”
“You do?” Terry asked, looking unconvinced. “When?”
Stefan glanced at me and fell silent.
Terry continued on. “We're finishing up the theater. My entire company is riding on this, and I sure can use an extra hand.”
“I don’t want to work construction,” Stefan said flatly.
“Why not? You’re physically fit and in tiptop shape. It'll be no problem for you.”
“It’s not what I want to do, Dad,” Stefan said firmly. “It’s not my style. Construction is a poor man’s job.”
Terry paused, and a glare so vile twisted his face that I actually felt goosebumps rise on my skin. “I don’t give a shit what you want to do. The moment you left that university, you gave up that right. You’re going to fucking work for me as long as I need you or until you take your ass back to school.”
“Fuck you!” Stefan rose from his seat so fast that he knocked over his chair and it clattered against the kitchen floor.
“Stefan!” my mother cracked. This whole time, she had been sitting there quietly, watching the exchange—a miracle for her, let me tell you—but now, she had an expression of alarm on her face.
Looking like she’d had a better night’s sleep than Terry, Mom looked well put-together as usual, her hair done up in a sophisticated bun, her makeup immaculate. She was wearing a nice business suit, but I had no idea why. Actually, I did have an idea why. My mom was a housewife who didn’t work, but for some reason, she liked to pretend she did.
Stefan froze, trembling with anger. I fear that if Mother hadn’t said anything, Stefan and his father would have come to blows.
“Stefan,” I chimed in softly. “Please sit down.”
My words seemed to have an incredibly calming effect on him. He swallowed audibly and then picked up his chair off the floor and sat back down.
“Fine, Dad,” Stefan said quietly, his demeanor subdued. “I’ll come in to work with you today.”
Both of my parents tossed curious glances my way, amazed at how easily I had calmed the situation.
“Glad you saw it my way, Son,” Terry said with a nervous chuckle.
After that, we all ate without saying a word until my mother broke the silence.
“I scheduled an appointment with a psychiatrist for you, Bella.”
I froze in the process of stuffing my face with a mouthful of eggs. “What?” I asked.
“You have an appointment this Friday with Dr. Kern.”
“But I don’t want to see a psychiatrist!” I cringed at how shrill I sounded.
My mother took a sip of her orange juice and then wiped her mouth with her napkin and set it down to study me. “Stefan told me that you had a very hard time while at school. I'm just trying to help.”
“But I don’t need a . . .” I paused mid-sentence when I felt a sharp nudge against my leg underneath the table. I glanced around the table. Stefan had his head lowered, but I knew it was him.
I swallowed angrily. I didn’t know why he would want me to go along with my mom’s desire to send me to a psychiatrist. The only thing that I could figure out was that he didn’t want me to arouse suspicion.
“Is there going to be a problem, Bella?” Mom asked me. She was leaning forward in her chair, gazing at me with an I’m-ready-for-your-bullshit look.
She was clearly expecting me to have an outburst, and I had been seconds away from proving her right. As I thought about it, I realized that arguing with my mom in my current condition would only cause more stress and make my situation worse.
Since my mom had impressed upon me that stress had caused her to have a miscarriage when she was younger, I was absolutely terrified.
I needed to minimize stress at all costs.
“No, Mom,” I replied finally, my eyes going back to the eggs impaled by my fork. Food was just about the only thing that gave me comfort these days. “I'll go.”
“Dad is totally busting my balls,” Stefan said as he brushed past me to grab a box of tools off a shelf. We were in Terry’s shed that sat at the very end of our back yard, able to get a private word in together for the first time all day.
After breakfast, Terry had told Stefan to go get himself re-acquainted with a set of tools because it would help him ease into the tasks he would have Stefan doing at the construction site. He’d stop by after lunch to take Stefan to the site.