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CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN " DRUGS, HIPPIES, SEX FIENDS "
DYLAN SAT IN THE BACK OF HER PARENTS CAR. As her dad pulled into the Harrington driveway, Dylan could already hear the yelling. Her mother looked over her shoulder, giving Dylan a concerned look.
"It's okay," Dylan assured her mother. "Steve knew his dad was going to freak out. But he's coming."
Dylan's father put the car in park and they all waited for Steve to exit the Harrington home.
"You know, it might sound weird coming from your father, since you're my little girl shacking up with your boyfriend... but I'm glad Steve is heading out there with you," Dylan rolled her eyes at the shacking up bit. "California is freaky. Drugs, hippies, sex fiends. I don't like it at all. At least I know there's someone down there that has your back."
"Thanks, Dad." Said Dylan, only half sarcastically. "But it's not 1969 anymore, I think I'll be fine."
They waited a few moments longer before her father checked his watch and sighed. "He better hurry, kid. Or we're not gonna make your flight."
The yelling still hadn't settled and Dylan finally began to worry. She wouldn't be the least bit shocked if Mr. Harrington had conspired this plan of arguing with Steve until too much time had passed, he'd miss his flight, and then miss his chance to leave. Mr. Harrington was a very respected business man, after all. He knew when to apply the pressure and when to hold out for as long as possible to get exactly what he wanted.
Her mother turned around in her seat again, this time giving Dylan a sympathetic glance. "I'm going to go in there."
"No, mom—"
Her mother didn't listen. "I've always had a great relationship with Steve's parents. I think I can help."
Dylan watched her mother enter the Harrington home, boldly, without even knocking. Normally, Dylan would be quite embarrassed her mother was heading off to fight Dylan's battles for her. But this one time Dylan thought it might be her best bet.
"I wouldn't worry," her father said as her mother disappeared inside the front door. "If there's one thing Mr. Harrington enjoys more than controlling people, it's keeping up appearances."
Dylan laughed. While Dylan knew that statement to be true, it was probably the meanest thing her father had said about anyone, ever. He was an extremely cordial man. He never stirred the pot. It always surprised Dylan such a man could raise two fairly bitchy daughters. Dylan might have been notorious for her attitude but anyone that knew Barb at all knew they had the same sharp tongue. Yet, they had shared the sweetest most tame set of parents.
It wasn't long after her mother entered the Harrington residence, she was exiting it. She had a few suitcases in her grip and Steve at her side. She waved toward her husband and daughter, sending a coy little wink their way. Dylan wouldn't knock that being sweet as pie definitely had some perks—people actually liked giving you your way. Even people as cold-hearted at Mr. Harrington.
