In This Life (Sequel to 'In Another Life')

103

My relationship with them was pretty much nonexistent. The only time they paid any attention to what I was doing, was when it concerned them, or might make them look bad to their boujee friends. "Terra, how many times do I have to tell you? You can't wear that. It makes you look like a slob. Go put on that nice dress that mother bought you before company gets here." My mother's voice rang inside my head, making me dread seeing them even more. All my father ever said was "listen to your mother. Do as you're told." I was expected to be this Southern Belle, when I wasn't. I wanted to wear my ripped jeans, and go exploring with my friends, getting filthy in the process. That was unacceptable to them and they didn't understand me. I know that every kid says that about their parents, just because they're parents are looking out for them. That wasn't the case with mine. They literally knew nothing about me. Not then, and definitely not now. I hadn't even talked to them but twice in the three years that I had been gone. I hadn't even told them about Colby. Shit. "You don't have to come with me to see my parents," I said, keeping my eyes averted. "What? Of course I am. I want to meet them," he said, his tone suggesting that I had quite literally lost my mind. I sighed heavily. "I haven't told them about you Colby." He was quite for so long that I turned to look at him. His face wore a pained expression. "Why not?" he asked. I shrugged. "Because they destroy everything good in my life. Because I don't talk to them. I haven't talked to them at all in almost a year. Last time I did, they chastised me for moving out to LA again. Told me that I need to give up my silly dream of being a photographer, and come back home to marry a nice rich man. Their friend Susan had a son who was an investment banker, and was getting involved in politics. He'd be perfect." I let out a short, hard life remembering that conversation. "But you were with Justin then," Colby said, confusion lacing his voice. "Justin wasn't powerful enough for them. He worked with addicts, something they never admitted that I was. They called it my little problem. Like it was no big deal, and that it would fix itself. Anyway, he didn't make enough money, and didn't have what they called 'social status.' My parents are snobs of the worst kind," I said bitterly. "I'm ashamed for you to meet them." "You shouldn't be. They made you so they can't be all bad," he smiled, reaching over to put his hand on my knee. "Yeah, and look how great I turned out," I muttered, turning my head away again. My stomach started churning again, in anticipation of seeing them again. When we got to the motel, I dragged myself into our room, and dug through my suitcase. "What are you doing? I thought you wanted to rest for a little while," he asked. I shook my head. "No time to rest. I need to find something to wear that they won't completely hate." I tossed shirt after shirt out, followed by ripped jeans and a short skirt. When I realized that I didn't even own anything anymore that they wouldn't tear to shreds, I sank down onto the floor, and buried my face in my hands. "I don't want to do this," I  moaned. "Then you don't have too. You're not a little kid anymore Terra. They can't tell you who to date, or what to wear. If you don't want to see them, then we'll just stay here and watch bad tv shows," he said, sinking down beside me, and rubbing my back. I turned my head to look at him pitifully. "I can't do that. I have to go see them. If I don't, Amber's service won't be what it needs to be because they'll be too concerned with telling everyone that they had no hand in how horrible I turned out." "Are you trying to make me hate them before I meet them?" he asked, his jaw clenching. I let out a watery laugh. "No. They aren't all bad, just...." I sighed, and ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't know. They're just snobs." He stood up and offered me his hand. "You look great in anything. When you get ready, we'll go meet them." I took his hand and nodded when I stood up. "Okaaaay, I guess I don't really have a choice." I had one dress with me. A basic black spaghetti strap dress, with a short black jacket that went over it. I was going to wear that to the funeral. Since the wake was going to be at Mrs. Gails house, I knew that it would be casual with people wearing jeans and things. I decided on my least ripped pair of black jeans, a black tank top, and a white short sleeve button down man's shirt to go over it. I could already picture the disgust that would be on my mother's face when she saw me. Once I was dressed, I touched up my makeup, and fixed my hair. I pulled on my shoes, and laughed. "What's so funny?" Colby asked. I nodded towards my white high top sneakers. "My mother always says a lady wears heels, even if they hurt. Sneakers or tennis shoes have no business being part of our attire. Jeans too, for that matter." I laughed again and shook my head. "Let's go before I change my mind," I said standing up. Once we got outside, I realized that Colby had changed too. "You look nice," I said. "You didn't have to do that for me. They're probably going to judge you regardless of what you wear." He shrugged and smiled. "You know me. Any reason to show off a little style."