I N C O G N I T O (on hold)

• tirades •

My mother's on a rampage and not even Natalie or a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon could calm her down.

I get it. I flaked.

"People look at us, Valerie." She's pacing the floor of my bedroom, hands on her hips. "They see what we do. Shirley had to tell me that my daughter slipped out of a benefit to...do what, exactly?"

"Okay, I get it. Sorry."

"No, you don't get it. I do not ask you for much, Valerie, but when I ask you to sit and smile for charity for four hours, just do it. It's not a hard task. It's simple. You didn't have to speak unless spoken to. You didn't have to make any speeches. You just had to be there. That is all I asked, was for you to be there."

"I know."

She sighs, as if speaking to me was draining her energy, and pushes her hair back and away from her face. "Your father called."

Oh. So this wasn't about me leaving early at all. This was about her and dad. They were fighting again—God knows what about.

"Are you really going to make him stay at that hotel all week?"

She scoffed. "When he's out of town he can't stop talking about how much he misses home. When he comes back, he stays in the office—never home. Always working."

I roll my eyes but don't respond. There's no way I was going to tell her he'd be home right now, if she didn't angrily snap at him to just 'stay in a hotel for the week'. But my mother was dramatic, if nothing else. Playing victim is her specialty.

Dad had been traveling in and out of the state for the past three months, one of the perks of being a VP at Arlington Co. I couldn't complain, mostly because my father and I were no longer as close as we use to be, and because he'd been secretly putting money into my bank account every week to 'make up' for his absence. I hadn't really spent any of it, though, figuring I could save up for something that I may want in the future.

The misconception of my life was that my parents are ridiculously rich. They're not. We were a little above financially stable, and if it wasn't for my grandmother passing two years ago and my mother receiving so much money from her, we'd probably only be middle class. But her new status and my father's position at work makes it so that we were good. Mother considers us "new money" which, in itself, is as ridiculous as it sounds.

We had money, money that wouldn't be going away any time soon. But that didn't mean we owned a yacht and went vacationing every weekend.

My mom huffs and leaves, slamming my bedroom door behind her. I must have zoned out. She hates that.

I sigh and fall back onto my bed, my head sinking into my pillows. Something underneath me vibrated, and I thrusted up my hips to awkwardly pull my phone from my back pocket.

Dad.

I let it ring for a few seconds, before sighing and answering his call.

"She tell you I bailed?"

"Not calling to yell at you," he says with a short laugh. "I'm sure she did enough of that."

"Hm," I shrug. "It was surprisingly short and sweet."

Another laugh. "That's not like your mother."

"She was more upset you called."

"You see what I have to deal with?" He sighs. "Most wives would appreciate a phone call from their husband."

"Most wives expect to see their husband when they come home," I remind him. "Why don't you just come home?"

"One step ahead of you. I should be there in fifteen."

I snort. "You're lame."

"I'm also taking her out. Apology dinner."

"Scratch that. You're really lame."

My phone vibrates again and I pulled it from my ear to glance at the text message on top. My eyes lit up as I read the words.

"—to join us if you want." I only caught the end of his sentence, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what he'd said.

"As amazing as that sounds," I drawled sarcastically, "no thanks. I was just invited to this thing."

"Thing?"

"A party."

"Or you can come to dinner with us."

"No, thanks."

"I'll be home soon," he announces before hanging up.

True to his word, ten minutes later, I hear the front door close and his voice call out for my mom. I roll over in my bed so I was laying on my stomach and decided to text Karol back.

Come over. Stay the night.

She replies within minutes. Be there in thirty.

"Karol," my mom says, looking over at my best friend. My mom wasn't exactly Karol's biggest fan. Unlike my dad who thinks Karol's a good influence on me, my mom thinks the exact opposite. Still, she was respectful and civil whenever Karol came around. "What brings you here?"

"Val didn't tell you? She said you were cool with me sleeping over." Karol gestures to her overnight duffel bag.

My mom eyed me. "She didn't mention it."

I shrug sheepishly.

"Sorry." Karol grinned and waved at my dad over mom's shoulder. "Hey, Mr. Bell!"

"Nice to see you, Karol." He smiled genuinely. "I was going to take Valerie to dinner with us, but since you're here I guess you guys can stay. Unless you want to join us for dinner?"

"I don't think bringing your daughter's best friend to what's supposed to be a romantic dinner is romantic. No thanks, dad." I ran my fingers through my hair.

"Well, we should be back around two." Dad still looked unsure. "Are you going to that party?"

"What party?" My mother narrows her eyes at us.

"Just this thing," I shrug. "Yeah, we're gonna go.  We'll be back before you."

Dad took my mom's grey coat off the coat rack and helped her put it on. "Goodnight, girls."

"Night!" Karol yelled as she jogged up the steps to my room.

I turned to my parents and leaned in to hug them each. "Have fun."

The second I got upstairs and stepped into my bedroom, something was thrown in my face.

"Get ready. We have a party to get to."