Fire Inside:A Chaos Novel(42)
I didn’t want to guess because I knew whatever “what” was was not going to be good for me.
With no choice I asked, “What?”
Mom didn’t make me work for it. She never did. She didn’t have patience for that kind of thing. If she was hepped up about something, she let it rip.
Something else, alas, she’d given to me.
“Your Dad and I are coming out next weekend!” she cried with glee.
Oh God.
Oh no.
Oh hell.
Damn!
This was not happening!
Thinking quickly and thus stupidly, I rushed out, “You can’t do that. I’m having my house fumigated next weekend.”
“Oh my Lord!” Mom exclaimed in horror. “Do you have an infestation?”
No, I did not. In fact, I wasn’t even certain what fumigation was since I’d never had to have it done so, in desperation, I turned to my computer, grabbed the mouse and hit the icon to load Explorer in order to look it up.
“Uh…” I mumbled, stalling for time, trying to ignore the feel of Hop’s eyes on me. I knew he’d moved away and sat back down but I refused to look at him as I tapped frantically on my keyboard.
“That’s terrible, darling,” Mom’s voice came in my ear. “Hold on, let me talk to your father. We’ll come up with something.”
That was what I was afraid of as I quickly read that yes, indeed, fumigation was a means of controlling pests.
Ugh.
Well, the good news was, this wasn’t a total lie considering, if Hop didn’t leave me alone by next weekend, I would need a fumigation. But I didn’t think there were companies that had chemicals that could keep handsome badass bikers at bay.
I sat back in defeat in my chair, avoiding Hop’s gaze by turning mine to the ceiling.
Not long after I began my contemplation of the ceiling tiles, Dad’s voice sounded in my ear. “Lanie, honey, what’s this about an infestation?”
I moved my eyes to my shrimp. “It isn’t as bad as it sounds, Dad. I just can’t have visitors next weekend.”
“That’s outrageous,” he declared pompously. “That brownstone is in an excellent neighborhood, sound construction, premier carpentry. How on earth did this happen?”
He would know all that. He’d insisted I accept the healthy down payment that made my mortgage affordable on a home I would never have been able to afford on my own.
No way his daughter was residing in anything but the absolute best.
With bad timing, this brought to mind the fact that I had also allowed Elliott to take the unprecedented stand that we were going to pay for our wedding. He knew how I felt about Dad’s guilty generosity so he put his foot down that we were going to have the wedding we wanted and we were going to pay for it.
This had a variety of disastrous results. The first being Dad, who had no respect for Elliott, getting some.
“Didn’t know the boy had it in him,” Dad had mumbled with surprised admiration.
It also meant that when Elliott made a bad investment and lost everything, he had to turn to the Russian Mob to give me the wedding of my dreams.
On me.
That was on me.
Everything was fucking on me.
“Well, it’s good we’re coming out then,” Dad stated and I blinked. With my mind jumping all over the place, I was not keeping up and I was also wondering how anything was good. “I’ll talk to the Roths. They have a condo in Vail. I’ll see if it’s open this weekend.”
“Dad—” I began but it was like I didn’t speak.
“We’ll arrange a limo to come get you, bring you to the airport. I’ll rent an SUV and we’ll drive up. That way the Lexus can stay safe in your garage.”
“Dad—” I tried again.
“We get in Friday afternoon and leave Sunday evening, last flight out. A nice long visit.”
“Dad—”
“I’ll have my secretary email you the details.”
“Dad!” I called.
Again, he did not hear me or chose not to.
“Now, your mother says you’re at work so we’ll leave you be. You’ll get an email Monday. See you next weekend, honey.”
“Dad, I can’t—”
“I’ll tell your mother you said good-bye. Love you, Lanie.”
Then he was gone.
As you can see, this was precisely how I never managed to manage my parents.
I stared at my phone screen, which announced the call had ended.
I put it down and stared at Hop.
Then I asked accusatorily, “Why didn’t you do something?”
His brows shot up as he asked back, “Come again?”
“Throw my computer through the window. Trip the fire alarm. Something!”
My voice was rising and, yes, it was with hysteria, but my parents were coming for the weekend.