ᯤ Lights Are On - Tom Rosenthal
Louisa's POV
The car ride home is silent. For a good, long, uncomfortable while.
Until it wasn't.
Marcelo must have known Daddy was upset because without a word spoken, he rolled up the privacy window.
I hang my head, staring at my lap through blurry vision as I try to stifle any sobs attempting to escape my locked up throat. I anxiously toy with the ruffled hem of my dress resting just above my knees. I can't look at Daddy when he's this upset, even though that only upsets him more.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Louisa?" Daddy asks, frighteningly calm.
He takes off his glasses and tucks them away in his blazer before leaning back in his seat, slightly faced toward me. He rests an arm on top of the middle seat separating us, tapping a finger on the leather impatiently.
I stare at the almost faded tan line from where his wedding band should be. The wedding band he still sometimes wears, but never around Ms. Beaufort. The wedding band with Mama's name engraved on the inside.
I really miss her right now. She'd know what to do. She'd know what to say.
I don't know what Daddy wants me to say. I never do.
Because it's a trick question. There is no right answer.
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
I think that's what I'm supposed to be.
"You're sorry? You're sorry?" he exasperates, forcing an insincere laugh, as if what I said is just so unbelievable. "No, Louisa. You're not sorry. You're stupid. You have got to be the dumbest fucking girl in the world. After everything I've done for you, everything I do, you turn around and humiliate me. And for what, hm? For what, Louisa?"
I didn't mean to humiliate anybody. I still don't entirely understand what I did wrong.
"I said I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to—"
"What was going through that empty fucking head of yours? When you pulled that little stunt? Go on. Explain. Explain yourself."
"Wha-What stunt?" I stammer.
He laughs again. He laughs at me. He laughs at me and I hate that I really am too stupid to understand why.
"I just danced," I mumble.
Which was the wrong thing to do.
"Excuse me?" Daddy growls. "You just danced? Is that really the excuse you wanna go with? I don't give a good goddamn about what you call dancing. Who was that man, Louisa?"
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