Sitting in first class, my mind wanders. I think about the kiss Phil just gave me as I touch my lips. Why can’t I let myself feel for him? He would be perfect for me, and my mother would be overjoyed. His family is also prominent in Alabama, and our union would be extremely beneficial for our families. I just can’t seem to have the same enthusiasm. He calls me the girl who got away, which makes me think of the boy who got away, or rather left. Over the years, I haven’t been able to not think of him every now and then, but it isn’t with happy thoughts. He broke me, worse than either of my parents and all the bullies at school. He made me think he cared when he didn’t. He was embarrassed by me, and he kept our whatever we had a secret. One day he was kissing me, and the next he was ignoring me.

It’s just like everyone in my life back home, I’m just a rug for them to wipe their feet on. My nerves take over, and I’m going crazy knowing in a few hours I’ll be back in hell. When the flight attendant comes back around, I order a drink. Maybe if I drink enough, I’ll be able to handle what’s coming.

My memories go back to my parents. They didn’t even show up for my graduation. Adam said he couldn’t take time off from his practice, and Mom said it wasn’t necessary for her to attend. I graduated alone, but that was fine by me. I didn’t want my new life meeting my old one. In Boston, I had found some level of confidence in myself. I didn’t want my friends to see me revert into a shell of a girl being constantly scrutinized by her parents. But now, I am terrified that will be my life from now on; the small amount of confidence I found is now shriveling up and dying.

Maybe I can convince my mother to let me live on my own, and I can even get a job. Maybe, but I don’t really think that will happen. In the south, most girls continue living with their parents until they get married. Since I am obviously not good enough to find the proper husband, I guess that means I will live with my parents until I die. As far as a job goes, my mother will never allow it. Women of our status don’t work, ever, other than charity work. So, yeah, I’m screwed.

I drink enough to drown my sorrow and enough to allow me to sleep the rest of the way home. The attendant wakes me up to let me know we are about to land. Here we go, let the bashing commence.

* * *

I’m at baggage claim, and I see my mother and Adam walk towards me. Mom runs up, hugging and kissing me, while Adam just stands there studying me, seeing what he can start in on probably. My mom, on the other hand, is overjoyed with having me under her thumb again. She loves me, I know she does. However, she lets Adam get in her head, demanding she do more to make me fall into place, for me to be more like them. Mother, always being a pleaser, just follows his lead.

“Oh baby, I’ve missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re home.” My mom’s tears start to fall, but then Adam comes to hug me and starts sniffing, like, really sniffing me.

“Avery, is that alcohol I smell on your breath? Margaret, your daughter’s been drinking. Is this how you come back home? I knew letting her go away to Boston was going to be a disaster. What have you been doing, Avery? Huh, are you partying now? Out at bars all night drinking and acting like a slut? Is that what we have to look forward to now that you’re home?”

OH, MY GOD! I haven’t even made it out of the Louis Armstrong airport, and he’s starting already.

My mom starts panicking. “Oh God, Avery, please tell me you’re not. Please tell me I didn’t pay for that overpriced school for you to come back home being a drunken slut. Answer me, Avery!”

I nearly shout, “Mom, stop! I’m not! Geez. I just graduated from the best university in the country, and you accuse me of having time to be out drinking and being promiscuous.”

Adam jumps back in. “Avery, you will not talk to your mother like this! How dare you? She has been going crazy over you since you left, and you come back all these years later and act like this? Not in my house!”

I want so bad to tell him it’s not his house, but I don’t. I see my mother’s tears, and all I want is to put a smile back on her face.

“Mom, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk to you like that. I was nervous on the plane ride. I don’t fly well, so I had a few drinks to calm my nerves, that’s all. I promise, I am not a hard drinker, and I am not a slut!”

I look at Adam while I say that last part. Trying to get my point across.

Once we have my baggage we walk out of the airport, and a car is waiting outside to drive us home. Mom keeps talking about how glad she is to have me home as I stare out my window to the city I love. Adam says nothing; just keeps busy with his phone.

As we enter through our gates, I see my childhood home; well, a home to me, but to the masses it’s a mansion. Two stories high, with all the charm of old New Orleans. The mansion is the color of burnt amber clay, with black pillars. The second floor has a balcony that wraps around the whole house with ornate cast-iron railings. There are a variety of summer flowers hanging from the baskets about the railings.

My bags are taken out of the car by our butler, James, who welcomes me home with open arms. I’ve missed him. He’s always been like a second father to me.

“James, I’ve missed you. How have you been?”

“Avery, look at you. You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. I’m so proud of you for graduating from that fancy school. I’m glad you didn’t forget about me. I received all your birthday cards, but honey, you shouldn’t have, I wanted you to have fun and not worry about me. Tell me you had some fun, Avery?”

Before I could answer, Adam intervenes, “Avery, I thought you would have learned by now not to fraternize with the help.”

I start to tell him something, but James stops me by squeezing my hand and shaking his head. I know he doesn’t want me saying anything, so I shut my mouth.

James leans over and whispers in my ear, “We’ll talk later. Welcome home, honey.”

I watch as they all walk inside, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I go in. I hate how Adam talks to James. I love that man. After my father died and my mother became depressed, he took it upon himself to care for me. We have been close ever since. Adam threatened a few times to fire James, but I have always gotten my way on that one. I couldn’t have made it through if it weren’t for him. James is family, more family than Adam will ever be. He has no right to fire him, and thank God my mom would never let that happen. She knows everything he did for me while she couldn’t be the parent I needed.

I take another deep breath before entering my hell, the place I call home.