She's trembling, her legs so wobbly it was hard to stand Shannon Parker clung to the rough trunk of a coconut tree and waited for her mother to appear. As a bright yellow light over the nearest house suddenly gleamed, Shannon sucked in her breath and slid farther back into the darkness behind the wide trunk.
Shannon knew she shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be spying. She'd die if her mother saw her. Fearing to be seen, she had pulled a scarf over her golden-brown hair, which was the light enough to stand out in the darkness. She must not be caught lurking, but she had to know. She had to.
The door of the house opened and Carmella Parker stepped out, hand in hand with a handsome, tall, dark grayed man. Both of them are tall, trim, and attractive, they moved as though they were an exceptionally good-looking pair. Laughing, they drew close to each other, and they kissed.
It was a light, quick kiss, but Shannon felt a great pain. It felt as if someone had punched her hard in the stomach.
She watched her mother and the guy had driven away with a brand new Mercedes.
Shannon let herself slide to the ground, sitting in the dark. She stared at the front window of the house, hating the man who there and hating her mother.
All through the sixteen years of her life, Carmella Parker had called Shannon “My Baby Angel,” and she had loved this special nickname. She had been a real mother then. She’d cooked her favorite dishes and supported her singing career. Lately, though, she had become so different that Shannon wondered if she could possibly be the same person.
Carmella Parker— Known to nearly everyone in the Springlake town of Nashville, Tennessee, as Professor Carmella Parker, practitioner of Biological Science at the Polytechnic University of Nashville.
“You must understand Clark, I’m not being contented any longer,” her mother had told Shannon’s father just before she left.
“Carmella, are you serious?” Mr. Parker’s voice had risen with shock.
“He raised her voice as if she were arguing not only with him, but also with herself. “I’ve given a lot for this nonsense relationship,” she said. “For a long time I’ve felt that my life here is nothing.”
Frozen in the corridor, Shannon couldn’t help overhearing the conversation. She had gasped and leaned against the wall for support father and Gabriel, and I were nothing?
“Is there someone else?” father had asked. His voice came out hurt and desperate, and she asked the question again.
“Be reasonable,” her father had said. “It wasn’t working anymore. You know that.”
“No, I didn’t know I thought… well… your moodiness… I mean, when you didn’t get the promotion to university’s head, I assumed…”
“I would have got it, if I’d had more support from you,” Carmella said.
“More support? Clark’s voice had risen.
“After all I’ve done—“
But the door had slammed shut. Realizing that her mother had left, Shannon had run to comfort her father. Now Shannon whispered to her absent mother over and over, “How could you want us? How could you?”
She tried to look away from the lighted window. The pain in Shannon’s mind and heart turned to anger, hot and intense. Breathing heavily, she unconsciously gripped the stones, pulling them from the soil on the ground. She stepped out from under the wide limbs of the coconut tree, aimed at the window, and threw the stones as hard as she could.
“I hate you mother! I hate you!” She yelled.
The glass smashed and shattered into pieces. There was a moment of total silence, as though the air had stopped moving. Then an old woman ran screaming from the near apartment. Doors of other neighboring houses opened, and people went out, they were all disturbed. A huge man in his undershirt grabbed Shannon’s arms. The old woman kept yelling that she had called the police.
