The shoe exchange

Alex

I sit across the table from Gabriella. I watch as she tenses when my father speaks her name.

Funny.

I have the same reaction when he speaks my name.

At least her and I have one thing in common.

Mutual fear of not knowing what's going to come out of William Reed's mouth.

"Yes, sir." Gabriella answers quietly. I can't help but notice how timid she has become since she's sat at this table.

"What is it you do?" He asks but his tone is bored. I sit up a little straighter ready to defend Gabriella if need be. I watch as she tilts her head, like she's thinking of how to answer his question correctly.

"I'm not sure how to answer that question, sir." She tells him politely while wringing her hands together.

I hear my father scoff, "why not? You don't know what you do?"

She's so nervous.

And I'm so pissed.

He thinks he can treat anybody, any kind of way and get away with it.

"William" my mother hisses at him. "Be polite to our guest." She thinks she's whispering but we all hear.

"Of course, I know what I do. But, I'm not sure what you're asking. Are you asking, what I do in my spare time. What I do for work. What I do for fun. What I do when I'm happy or mad. Are you asking what I do wh-"

"Enough" William raises his hand to stop the rest of her comment. "I meant what do you do for work."

"I'm a waitress." Comes Gabriella's short reply.

"Ahh. I figured it was something like that."

"What's that suppose to mean?" I ask him before Gabriella can say anything.

"Alexander" I shoot a look to her, that tells her not to say another word.

She doesn't.

He doesn't get to sit on his high horse without me trying to knock his ass down.

"No disrespect of course." He says to Gabriella.

"No, really? Because it sounded really disrespectful to me, how about the rest of you. Cade? Mom? What about you Jacob?"

No one answers.

"It was kinda rude, Pops." I hear Jacob mutter.

"Well, I apologize." William says without looking up from his food.

I think I'm having a heart attack. After twenty minutes in this home Gabriella got an apology. I lived under this roof for almost 20 years and I never got one.

Not one.

"Well, I'll be damned. You do know how to be sorry." I can't help but be smart towards the man.

"Okay, that's enough. Please, let's start over. Gabriella, thank you for coming tonight. It's our pleasure to have you in our home. Let's eat and then I'll tell the boys why you're here." My mom shoots a glance my way. "I'm sure they're very curious."

No one speaks another word as we all begin to eat. All you can hear is forks and knives scraping across plates, breathing, and loud gulping.

It's very irritating and my body has seemed to want to hone in on every little sound. I look around to find a distraction, my gaze settles on Gabriella.

She's so quiet and timid. But yet when she needs to she'll speak her mind. To my father, no less. Sometimes I think I have her figured out, but then here she comes showing another side of her I've not seen.