"I want to speak to Mr. Garland!"
I shouted in the tiny interview room, staring into the shiny two-way glass and daring those behind it to come and shut me up. At my estimation, since they'd taken my watch, it had been three hours since Peter had been arrested and we'd been unceremoniously hauled to the police station. The female officer that had accompanied me kept trying to convince me that Peter had kidnapped me and I kept telling her that she was full of shit. Obviously, she didn't believe me and I was put into this room, with the same officer performing mastiff duties while I screamed at the glass.
Finally, the door opened and every bit of blood in my body sank to my toes. My mother, Esther strode into the room, her Jimmy Choo's clicking on the broken linoleum. She pulled her bifocals off, letting them hang on their golden chain between her huge breasts as I sat frozen like a child expecting a monumental chastisement. She glared at me, dropping her Prada purse onto the table.
"I'm so glad you've been rescued."
"I didn't need rescuing,
Mother.
" I trembled at each word I delivered, knowing full well that I had never talked to my mother like this before. I turned to the officer. "I want to see a lawyer. This is a farce."
"A farce?" Esther barked, pulling a chair out, eyeing it distastefully, then sitting down. "What are you talking about?"
"Kidnapping is always a farce when it's the result of trumped-up charges. How could you do that?"
"How could I do what? You left so suddenly and your father and I had no idea where you were. We were
sure
that you'd been kidnapped." She smiled like a triumphant swan. "That's why I'm so glad that you're safe."
I glanced at the female officer who beamed back at my mother and immediately knew that Peter was in trouble. "I want to use my telephone call." I barked at her. "Now." The woman just grinned at me until I started kicking the door, screaming.
