He rallies, takes a step toward me, resolve hardening in his eyes. “Grey, please. Don’t break us apart like this. Don’t do this to us.”
“How can you turn this back on me? I’m not going away forever. I’m just going to college, Daddy. I…I’m just doing what’s right for me. Please try to understand.”
“If you leave this house, you’ve made your choice. If you leave, you’ll be willfully choosing sin.”
“It’s not sin! It’s my life. Why can’t you be reasonable?”
He clenches his fists, straightens his back. “I am being reasonable. Come back in and we’ll discuss your options.”
“I have to go, Daddy. I have to.” I go back, stand in front of him. “I love you. I know…I know we’ve had our differences, but…I love you.”
“Are you staying, then?” He takes my hand, the iron in his gaze softening every so slightly.
I pull my hand away. “No. I have to go.”
“Then you’ve made your choice. “Goodbye, Grey.” He turns away from me and closes the door without a backward glance.
And just like that, I’m alone in the world.
Chapter 4
I go to the funeral. Of course I do. Devin takes me. She holds my hand, wraps her tiny arm around my waist, and holds me up when they lower the coffin into the ground. During the viewing I sit with Devin, far away from my father. He doesn’t look at me. Not once. He acted so strong during the viewing and the service, like he was a pillar of Godly faith and perfection. I hate him.
I cry again. I thought I’d shed all my tears, but more slip free. I pull my Flip from my purse and film the first shovelful of dirt hitting the oak-wood top of Mama’s coffin. People gasp at my temerity, my sheer gall. I don’t care. It’s the last scene of her film, the final recording of Leanne Beth Amundsen’s life.
When it’s all over, I cling to Devin’s arm and try to breathe as we pick our way carefully through the grass and between the headstones. My heels stick in the ground, wet from a recent rain.
“Grey, wait!” I hear my father’s voice.
I stop and turn. I nod at Dev so she continues to her car. I wait for Daddy to run up to me. He’s fighting tears as he puffs to a stop in front of me.
He wipes his face with his palm. “I hate the way things are. You’re all I have left.”
His parents both died when I was nine, and Mama’s parents died before I was born. He’s all I have, too. “I hate the way things are, too, Daddy.”
“Then you’ll stay?” He sounds so hopeful.
I laugh/sob. “No, I’m not staying. I could stay if you could accept me for who I am. Support my decisions, even if you don’t agree with them.”
“You’re really going to move to Los Angeles, whether I want you to or not?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m going to L.A., no matter what. You’re my father, and I want to love you. I want to have a relationship with you. But if you can’t understand that I’m going to live my life my way, why bother trying? You’ve never understood me and never wanted to try. You’ve never approved of anything I do, anything I like. You don’t understand why I dance. You don’t understand why I want to make movies. And the worst thing is, you’re not even going to try to understand.” I shift my purse higher on my shoulder and meet his eyes, pleading with him one last time.
He just stares at me. “Grey, can’t we compromise a little?”
“Compromise how? You mean I give up film school to make you happy?”
He rolls his shoulders in a half-shrug. “Well…not give up what you want, just meet me in the middle.”
“There is no middle in this, Daddy. I’m going, one way or another. Whether or not we have a relationship when I leave is up to you. Our relationship is on you.”
His eyes harden, and he stuffs his hands in his pocket. “Fine, then. Be a prodigal.”
I laugh. “God, you’re so dramatic. I’m not a prodigal, I’m doing what’s right for me. You just can’t accept that.” I straighten my back and harden my heart. “Goodbye, Daddy.”
“’Bye, Grey.”
Neither of us says “I love you.” There are no hugs. I wait for him to change his mind. He doesn’t. I turn away then, walk over to Devin’s car and slide into the passenger seat.
Devin asks, “Are you—”
“I’m fine.” I clench my jaw to keep from crying again.
“Well, that’s some bullshit, but whatever helps you through it.” Devin glances at me, eyes concerned.
“He doesn’t…he just won’t let it go. He doesn’t have any give to him.” I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms, trying to push away the burning. “He won’t accept what I want to do, and I ain’t—I’m not gonna let him run my life anymore.”
The tears come then. I can’t help it. Just a few trickling down, and I don’t bother wiping them away. I don’t care if my makeup is running.
“So now what?” Devin asks.
I shrug. “Now? I move to L.A.”
“Alone?”
I nod. “I guess so.”
The rest of the drive to Devin’s house is quiet. She doesn’t know what to say, and neither do I.
* * *
Devin walks me to the security gate at the airport. Everything I own fits in a suitcase and a duffel bag, which have been checked in. I’ve only flown once before, two years ago for my sweet sixteen New York trip with Mama. She had helped me through the process. I hug Devin, tell her goodbye. I’m alone now.
I turn and wave one last time to Devin, and then focus on the security checkpoint. An older man with thick glasses sits at a desk, his uniform shirt bright blue. In my hand I have the boarding pass Devin’s dad printed out for me.
“Driver’s license?” he says without looking at me.
I dig through my purse, find my license, and show it to him. He glances at me, at the ID, scribbles something onto my boarding pass, and then waves me through. Around me, people seem to know what they’re doing. I don’t. I watch the woman ahead of me step out of her heels, pull a thick black laptop from her carry-on bag and place that in a white container. In a separate one goes her purse, license, boarding pass, and shoes. I follow her lead, stepping out of my dance flats and putting them in a container with my other belongings. I wait my turn to step into a thing that looks like something from Star Trek, a spinning wall in a circular glass enclosure. I’m told to lift my arms over my head, and the machine spins around me.