The Director's Cut by Janice Thompson Read Free Book Online

pensive look. “Sure you are. That’s what you do. You analyze things.” He crossed the room and paused in front of the family photo on the mantel. “Benita’s just the opposite. She goes where the wind blows her. Carlos too.”
    Gee, I wonder where they get that.
    â€œI’m afraid it’s going to blow them out to sea if they’re not careful,” I said after thinking it through. “That’s no way to live. Everyone needs a firm foundation. You know?”
    My father turned away from the photo and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know, Tia. At least your brothers and sister are getting to have some adventures. I can’t fault them for that. I’ve had a few of those myself.”
    Yeah, and look where they’ve landed you—living in a cheap hotel room away from your family.
    Hmm. Maybe I should keep my thoughts to myself.
    Or not.
    â€œWhich is better?” I asked him after pausing to think it through. “To live an adventure or to be sure of where you’re going?”
    He laughed. “I know where I’m going, Tia-mia. Same place I always go—back to your mama’s arms. Don’t ever doubt it. That woman thinks I hung the moon.” He took a couple of steps toward the door, then turned back with a wink. “She can’t make it without me.”
    I fought the temptation to slug him. Did it really seem that easy to him? Mess up—deliberately—then come crawling back, knowing my mother’s big heart would accommodate him? Suddenly I wished I had the courage to tell my mother to send him packing once and for all. She had every logical reason to do so. Even the Bible would back me up on this one.
    And yet . . . as my father stood here, a smile as broad as the Pacific on his face, I could see how he managed to charm people.
    He walked to the door. Resting his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to face me. “Honey, about your sister . . .”
    â€œWhat about her?”
    â€œI know you said things aren’t settled yet, but she really needs a job. It would ease your mother’s mind if you—”
    â€œI know, I know.”
    â€œYou’re well connected, Tia-mia. You know people. Big people. Important people. So, it’s only right . . .”
    I waved my hand, unable to take anymore. “Our producer has already agreed to meet with her tomorrow. Don’t worry. It’s as good as done.” A sinking feeling took hold as I spoke those words. Having Benita at the studio every day would make me a nervous wreck, but I would do it—for my family. Besides, we had less than two months left in the season. Surely I could endure that much time with Benita.
    He gave me an approving nod. “I never worry where you’re concerned. Of all my children, you’re the only one I never fret over.” He gave me a look that could almost be described as endearing. “You’re the one to make us all proud. The real winner in the bunch.”
    His flattery caught me off guard. Still, I could sense manipulation when I saw it. His words were meant to provoke me to action, as always. Tia, the worker bee. Tia, the rescuer. Tia, the only one in the family capable of carrying the load—financially and emotionally—for everyone else.
    Nope. Nothing had changed. Except now the words were covered with more dust. I felt like sneezing just thinking about it.
    Dad’s hand gripped the door, and he turned on the charm once more. Flashing a convincing smile, he offered up a few parting words. “Think like a winner, honey. Stick with your family. Don’t abandon us now, not after all we’ve been through together.”
    Funny. As I closed the door behind him, I realized I could have said the very same thing to him.

On Tuesday morning I arose feeling completely wiped out after a late night of taping and retaping Sheetrock in my entryway. Turned out it was harder than it