Chapter 15

"I think it's time to go back," my father said after he'd finished his Sunday.

"Do we have to?" Jessica asked.

He smiled at her and answered, "Yes. It's time to derail this whole thing."

"Dad," I said, knowing where he was headed after some of the probing questions he'd asked, "do you think it's wise to charge in there?"

Jessica was looking between my father in the front seat and me in the back. She wasn't sure what was going on, but knew something was up.

I could see the edge of his face smiling. Then he answered, "Yep, I sure do. Honey, could you throw this stuff away for us?"

Jessica, after being treated to ice cream (before dinner), was not going to object. She collected our trash and jumped out of the car.

As soon as she'd shut the door, my father said, "Everything the truth?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

He turned around just as Jessica was getting back in.

"Once. I think you were seven. Do you remember the frog?"

"Dad, I was seven."

"I haven't heard that one," Jessica said with interest.

So on the trip back, my father proceeded to tell Jessica about the time I put a frog down Marcia McClellan's blouse. Jessica was having a good time laughing.

That was until we pulled into the apartment complex driveway. She became very quiet at that point.

"Jessica," my father said in a no nonsense voice, "every one of us has said unpleasant things to our parents."

"I haven't."

"Maybe there hasn't been anything worth fighting for," he said as he stopped the car. As though what he'd just said was nothing important, he continued with, "Let's get out."

This time I did notice the curtains. Sure enough, we didn't need to knock. It was Jeanie that answered, though.

She took one look at Jessica and started to say something.

My father interrupted.

"Jeanie, isn't it? If you're her mother then you might, and I say might, have something to say. Otherwise, I'd suggest you stay out of it."

Jeanie looked at him and her mouth dropped open.

He took Jessica by the shoulders and steered her to the living room. Looking around, he asked, "Where's Theresa?"

"In her room crying," Jeanie said.

"Well, I think it's high time she came out, so we can talk about this," my father said.

"Dear, we have been talking about it."

My father looked over at his bride and with a smile on his face responded. "No. You three have been having a little busy bee session about how to arrange other people's lives."

That brought Theresa out of her room. It wasn't hard to tell she was mad, so she must have been listening.

"Do you think that just because you're a man, you can walk in here and start mouthing off?"

"Tell me, Theresa," he said calmly, "when are you going to get over the idea that you are the center of attention here?"

"I should ask you to leave," she said indignantly.

He shrugged his shoulders and looked at Jeanie.

"Jessica said you have a ... how did she put it ... a junk yard." He grinned, before going on, "So I would imagine you're familiar with contract law?"

"Somewhat," she answered.

"As someone who, either written or verbally, enters an agreement of lodging, you fall into a contract. As such, Theresa, like it or not, you have opened your apartment to a sub lease. As such, the same laws bind you, as binds your landlord. You can't just kick John out. He has, unless previously agreed upon, access to the common area. That would be this room."