Wild Things by Karin Kallmaker Read Free Book Online Page B

arm against his side, said softly, "Be careful, Mom. It cuts both ways."
    "No," she said sharply. "If your sister insists on doing this thing, then she must take the consequences. This Eric is not a nice boy like I thought. Lutherans ..." She spat the word in much the way she spat the word Jew.
    Michael muttered just loud enough for me to hear, "Like I can't name six popes who killed people."
    "Mom, I'll be okay," I said patiently, trying not to laugh at Michael. "I'm not moving in with him."
    "This is not funny, young lady. And you'd better not be living in sin," my father said. His voice deepened as he summoned up his worst tone of condemnation. "I would rather see you dead than a tramp."
    I stared at him and slowly stood up. "At least now I know what thirty-four years of obedience have gained me. Nothing. I move out and now I'm a tramp?"
    "Why else would you want to leave the protection of your father?"
    "I'm a professor now," I said passionately. "I'm a full-grown woman."
    "He only wants one thing," my mother said. "You won't get a ring from him."
    I exploded with rage I hadn't let surface for years. "I'm doing this for me," I shouted. "I want to live in the twentieth century!"
    "Faith Catherine Fitzgerald!" My mother was on her feet now. "You won't speak to your father in that tone. I won't have it."
    I gritted my teeth and said, "I will not let him call me names simply because I want to be independent."
    "Maybe we are old-fashioned," my mother said, with a hurt sniff. "Perhaps you would have preferred we ignore our responsibilities. I never had the chances you've had, I had babies to take care of, and I was the wife of the head usher of St. Anthony's Cathedral. We do what we must, and I won't have you criticize me for it."
    I softened my tone. "I'm not criticizing you. I'm just saying I'm old enough to be my own keeper."
    "I forbid it," my father said.
    I turned from my mother's pained, accusing glare to confront my father. Michael was pale. He watched the exchange like someone at a tennis match being played with grenades. Since his accident he hadn't cared enough to argue about anything.
    "You can't stop me," I said slowly. "You might as well accept it."
    My father shoved a kitchen chair aside in his rush across the room toward me. I was prepared for his enraged blow. When he hit me, it would be proof that my leaving was justified.
    "Thomas, no," I heard my mother gasp. She had never protested before.
    I stood my ground. I thought irrelevantly that Eleanor would have had him put to death for merely approaching her with his fist raised. There was something to absolute power.
    Michael got there first. He pinned him against the counter for the few seconds it took for our father to regain his control, before letting himself be shrugged off. Michael was white with pain.
    My father towered over me. "Get out of my sight! Pray God I forgive you."
    I walked away on legs of rubber, not out of the room, but to put one arm around Michael. "Are you okay?"
    He nodded tightly.
    "I'll run a cool bath for you," I offered. It was a small service, but he knew I was trying to thank him. We went out of the kitchen together, leaving behind a stunned silence.
    Michael leaned heavily on me as we went up the narrow stairs and didn't seem to notice how badly I was shaking. "What do you do for an encore?"
    "I go to a wild party and stay out most of the night," I said. I felt him shudder with laughter and realized I hadn't seen him laugh in ages.
    "Good for you," he said again. "Do you think if I were healthy I'd be living here?"
    I pushed open the door to his room and started to help him inside.
    "Nah," he said, pushing me away. "I'm okay. It just hurts so damn much."
    "You let your painkiller prescription run out again, didn't you?"
    He shrugged. "I don't want to get addicted. Though they tell me kicking the addiction hurts less than the skin grafts. Still, I'm trying to tough it out."
    I pursed my lips. Michael was getting good care from the