Bad Rep (Bad Rep, #1)(86)

“Hi Mom.  Dad,” I said, joining the trio in the living room.  My mom's face lit up when she saw me and immediately enveloped me in a warm, rose-scented hug.  My dad gave me a small smile, nothing like the one he had been wearing seconds earlier.  My mom pulled back and patted my cheek before my dad leaned in to pat my back.

No hug.  Just a freaking pat on the back.  What, was I a dog?

My mom looked around the apartment.  “It looks so clean in here.  I'm glad to see you guys aren't like other college students living in squalor,” she stated.  I shared a look with Riley.  If she only knew that on a normal day, our coffee table was covered in used glassware and empty pizza boxes.  And our kitchen would have dirty dishes piled in the sink.   We weren't complete slobs, just lazy about housekeeping.

“Thanks,” I said.  My dad was looking around, and I knew he was trying to find something to criticize.    I hated how inadequate that man made me feel.

“So what exactly did you spend all of your money on? Because I'm not seeing anything here that cost more than fifty bucks at a garage sale,” my dad asked coldly.

I tensed and my mom hissed out, “Dan!”  Two minutes in and I was ready to cry.  This was going to be a long day.

“Well, you know our Mays.  Giving to the homeless and feeding stray animals.”  Riley jumped in.  “So, Mr. Ardin, how are those Gamecocks doing this year?” she asked, steering the conversation away from my spending habits to the football team at my dad's alma mater, the University of South Carolina.  Another reason for my dad's chronic disappointment where I was concerned.  He wanted me to go to USC, I wanted to come to Rinard with their awesome English Program.  That hadn't gone over well.

I gave Riley a look of intense gratitude as my dad launched into a detailed stats rundown of his favorite college football team.  “Do you want anything to drink, Mom?” I asked, heading into the kitchen.  My mother followed me.

“I'd love some iced tea if you have it.”  Of course I had iced tea.  I'd stocked up because my mother drank it by the gallon.

I got a flowered glass down from the cabinet and poured her some tea.  “I love these glasses, Maysie.  They're adorable,” my mother said a little too enthusiastically.  I knew she was trying to make up for my dad's nastiness.  That was the way of our family.  I was the royal screw up, my dad got pissed and my mom worked her ass off to smooth it over, even as she drilled in her own guilt trip.

“They're Riley's actually,” I said a little shortly.  We fell into a kind of awkward silence.  My mom finished her iced tea and put the empty glass in the sink.

“Maysie.” She began, facing me.  My shoulders sagged in preparation of whatever she was about to say.   She must have recognized me bracing myself because she took a hold of my hand.  “I know your father can come across a little gruff.”  I wanted to roll my eyes at that understatement.  “But he loves you.  Very much.  And he just wants what's best for you.”  I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything positive.

My mom leaned in and dropped her voice to a near whisper.  “We've been getting your checks, sweetheart.  And even though we were disappointed with your irresponsibility with the credit card, I think it's wonderful that you're taking care of that.”  Back handed compliment number one.  Check.

I gave my mom a fake smile.  “Just doing what I should do.  I'm sorry I messed up,” I admitted honestly.

My mom squeezed my hand.  “I know you are, honey.”  She reached out and brushed my bangs back from my face.  “I wish you'd let your bangs grow out.  They cover up your beautiful face.”  Back handed compliment number two.  Check, check.

I was saved from getting defensive by Riley and my dad coming into the kitchen.  I got my dad a glass of iced tea and I spent the next fifteen minutes trying to withstand the cutting commentary on my college life.  Riley, bless her, tried to intervene where she could.  But there was only so much she was able to accomplish when faced with the full force of my father's attack.

“Wow, look at the time. Don't you have to get over to campus for your tour?” Riley interjected during one of the many awkward silences that filled the kitchen.

“Oh, wonderful!  I do so love the campus tours.  So fascinating!” My mom enthused, grabbing her purse off the counter and following my dad out the door.

I turned to Riley before leaving.  “Thanks for the help in there,” I whispered, so my parents wouldn't hear me.

Riley's eyes widened a bit.  “I don't remember your dad being so...um...”

“Dickish?” I added before Riley could finish.

Riley choked on a laugh.  “Well, I was going to say intense.  But sure, whatever works.”  I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder.  “Good luck at lunch,” Riley said quietly and I had to suppress a groan.  Lunch.  I had almost forgotten.  Given the mood my dad was in, that was going to be a damn blood bath.

I followed my parents out to their car, a brand new Jeep Cherokee.  “Nice car, Dad,” I commented, hopping in the back.  My dad adjusted his mirrors and turned the air conditioner on.