The Exchange

Chapter 41- Weekend in Hell

Sasha's father, Martin, was the kind of man who wore suits around the house long after he'd got back from work. He was the kind of man who read the newspaper at the breakfast table only because he had seen successful actors doing it in films and wanted to impersonate this image of affluence. 

He was the kind of man who didn't like to be tested on anything he said and would often turn a conversation into a full blown argument. If he thought he was losing his face would become red and his voice would slowly get louder and louder as if he could win a discussion by amping up the volume. 

Sasha had always been intimidated by her father, especially when she was younger and his bulky build loomed over her. But she'd also wanted to please him in everything she did or had done including ballet recitals, grades from school tests, swimming races and of course, being offered a place at a good university.

If she won these events then her father would would become slightly more feeling towards her and it was in the these small moments of victory that a faint smile would begin to work its way onto his face. If she was able to get this minor reaction from him then Sasha felt as though all her hard work had been paid off. 

Annette was very different in the way she parented. She was proud of her daughter whether she came first or last and would always cheer embarrassingly loudly from the stands. She was also there for all rehersals and drove Sasha back and forth to each of her clubs which only began to stop when her marriage started to fall apart.

Martin on the other hand only showed an interest in his daughters accomplishments when she was holding a gold medal and would otherwise take little notice. Sasha had learned from a young age that if she were to gain her fathers attention it would have to be through getting top marks or not at all.

Ben had been less influenced by this harsh attitude to success but he still often cried when Martin missed another of his football practices or the actual games. Their father would always fall back on some feeble excuse and was so wrapped up in his own world he probably didn't notice how much his absence affected his children.

The moment Sasha had stepped into her fathers new, sparkling house for another 'weekend visit' she was reminded of all those past years that she had spent believing she was not enough and still did not feel enough. Even the pristine and perfectly decorated rooms that looked like a show home made her feel out of place. 

It was another jog to her memory telling her that Martin had now completely subscribed to this lavish lifestyle and couldn't be more distant from the past man she had grown up with. 

His new wife was, to put it plainly, very rich. Sasha had never seen him happier now that he could afford to eat caviar every night for dinner or own all the Ted Baker suit from the designers new collection. He'd finally achieved what he'd longed for- wealth because in his eyes it meant success. And even though he hadn't personally slaved away for every penny in his bank account he walked about with this superior air that told others he was an essential character at his place of work.  

Martin's ego was as big as Jordan Belfort's from 'The Wolf of Wall Street' and as uncrushable as Kanye's and Sasha was both in awe and despising of it. 

Sitting at the dinner table watching him fork steak into his mouth she longed to be able to say all the things that pressed down upon her about their relationship. She longed for him to reach out and hold her in his arms and tell her how much he cared about her. But of course that would never happen. 

Especially not now that he had a different family who he seemed to love much more than her and Ben. It appeared all so perfect and easy for him, even their new baby had been called Leilani which was a 'heavenly flower' from Hawaii. How was she ever meant to compete with that?

Pamela, their fathers new wife, liked to be seen as a sophisticated lady and never seemed as though she had much time for anyone but herself. She was always dressed in a very prim and proper way and got her hair done about once a week.

When Sasha had been told that Pamela was pregnant she had chocked on the pasta that she had been eating. She couldn't imagine her stepmother as a parent- she seemed too stern and serious to raise a child. But then again maybe she wanted a 'mini-me' running about the place who she could clothe like a doll and could brag about to her friends. 

Tonight at the dinner table she sat with impeccable posture opposite Sasha with the same stony-faced expression that she always adopted.

Ben had secretly told Annette that he was scared of his stepmother and it wasn't hard to guess why. It wasn't as if she were the evil woman who was often portrayed in fairytales but she was stubborn and liked things her way which meant that they had to be on their best behaviour during each visit.