I don't do particularly well in tense situations. I usually end up shrinking and waiting for some kind of out, doing all I can to keep myself from falling apart. I've gotten better since I was a kid, when it would be all too easy to have me hyperventilating and weeping, but I still tended to opt for 'freeze' over either fight or flight.
Sitting next to Melissa at her family's sprawling kitchen island, I felt the tension in spades. I'd thought my own debriefing with my mother was bad, but this was...exponentially worse. I kept my breath in check and tried to look somewhat remorseful, but my heart was jackhammering in my chest. I glanced over at Melissa, stony-faced, with the humming undercurrent of defensive hostility, her eyes locked on her mother's. Mrs. Redmond stood across from us with a stricken expression, her eyes quivering with another readied torrent of tears, wringing her hands. Melissa's father stood next to her, one burly arm about her shoulders, the other gentle on her arm, as though passively trying to ease her nervous energy.
"I should have sent you to St. Margaret's," Mrs. Redmond kept repeating, sniffling constantly. "I should have listened, but I didn't and now-"
"Now, what?" Melissa spat back, a knife in her voice. Her eyes were red rimmed but the tears had iced over. Her lip pulled back in a sneer as she crossed her arms, digging into her biceps.
"I-I thought we were past this, Melissa, you can't keep-you-"
"The fuck I can't," Melissa snarled. I swallowed. This was not going well. She was like a wildcat backed into a corner, swiping viciously with every reply. Mr. Redmond piped up.
"There's no need for that," he chided, reproachful eyes on his daughter. Melissa met them for a moment, rolled her eyes, and scoffed, looking aside. He turned his eyes to me and I felt a stab of fear. He wasn't particularly threatening, nor looking at me with anything but a long suffering weariness, but I was intimidated all the same. He was a large man, easily taller than Melissa by a few inches, and had the build of a star running back who'd retired to run a car dealership. I shrank a little in my seat.
"No need, he says," Melissa muttered. "This...woman can't even keep her head on straight without a handful of pills but-"
"You little hussy," Mrs. Redmond squalled, her voice rising and breaking. Harold Redmond winced for but a moment, bringing up his hands to try and quell the row.
"Enough! You both--can we not speak to each other like a family?"
"Maybe if she can see me as a daughter, instead of a, a burden," Melissa shot back, unwilling to back down. "A cross to bear, that's the phrase, right?" Her mother became incensed.
"You have the nerve to bring--to do
that
under my roof, and then disrespect me-"
"Do what?" Melissa looked at her, chin thrust out, challenging her. "Say it, I fuckin dare you."
Mr. Redmond slammed his fist onto the marble top. I was the only one who flinched. "Melissa!!"
"What?! I'm 18, I don't need this-"
"You live under my roof," her mother bawled, and her father rubbed his eyes, clearly realising how ineffectual he was in the midst of this fateful duel. "You-we feed you, clothe you-"
"And you think that gives you a say in my personal life, my relationships? God, I can't believe I let you bully me for so long-"
"B-bully you! Melissa, I-"
"The hell else am I supposed to call it!"
"Melissa, I
love
you, you know-"
"You threatened to send me to stay at a fucking convent!"
Harold Redmond sighed, not bothering to try and curb his daughter's profanity any more. "A girls Catholic school," he corrected her.
"Same difference," Melissa deflected, before adopting a nasty grin. "Besides mom, what do you think I'd get up to there? At an all girls school."
"Maybe they'd manage to squash that--temperament out of you," Mrs. Redmond hissed, her tears coming round to venom to match her daughter's.
"Guess it's a bit too late to find out now," Melissa replied. "I'm not 12 anymore, I don't have the fear of god in me, and I don't give a shit what you, or your vapid, shallow church friends think. I can't
believe
how long I let myself think that your embarrassment had to be mine!"
This was a complete disaster, and I felt like an intruder, felt an intense guilt for being the catalyst for this meltdown. Worst of all, I didn't know what I could do. I wanted to console and calm Melissa, but besides knowing how bull-headed she could be, I was a bit terrified of any possible reaction. I wanted to excuse myself, but wasn't for a second about to abandon Melissa in a moment of crisis.
"I just don't understand," her mother moaned, clutching her hair. "You were doing so well, you were seeing that sweet Michael boy-"
"Sweet!" Melissa barked out a laugh. "So you don't care if I'm screwing some meathead, but god forbid-"
Mrs. Redmond fell apart, sobbing loudly as she pushed her face into her husband's chest, wrapped up in his protective arms. He just shook his head disbelievingly over at Melissa. "You just have to push it, every time, huh?"
"What! So she gets a pass for-"
"Nobody gets a pass. This is...not the time for this, clearly." He glanced over at me, just short of dismissively. "Maybe it would be better if your...friend-"
I felt Melissa's hand snatch mine tightly, and glanced over to her, sitting proud, back straight. "No, I don't think so. You wanna air our dirty laundry, that's fine, but don't
presume
to tell me who I keep company with. It isn't 1950, and I'm done with this shit."
Mrs. Redmond wailed louder, and Harold stroked her hair, staring at Melissa with pained eyes. "Mary, shh...look, let's...why don't you go calm down, while I-"
"I can't, Harold, I c-can't!" She was practically screeching, wrenching at his shirt. "Y-years trying to raise a good, a decent girl and she-she-"
Melissa bristled but managed to keep her tongue in check, and Mr. Redmond turned for the hall, taking his wife with him. He shot Melissa one last worried look before leading her out of the room to the stairs, her cries echoing through the cavernous rooms. As they reached the second floor landing, I felt Melissa shakily exhale next to me. She slowly leaned toward the counter, chewing her lip. I could see her already maligning herself for her conduct, but to be honest, I found it hard to find fault with it. Finally, for the first time in a while, I found my voice.
"Are you alright?"
Melissa shook her head, laughing bitterly. "No, I don't think I am. I'm-still kind of in shock, I think-and I just can't-I can't deal with her anymore, every time it seems to be going well it's
something
