Read Online The Implosion of Aggie Winchester by Lara Zielin - Free Book Online
Authors: Lara Zielin
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“Aggie, if we’re going to get anywhere here, you have to be honest. You can tell me the truth.”
“That is the truth,” I insisted.
“Listen, I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”
This was bullshit. She might as well have had bricks and mortar at her feet, the way she was building walls between us.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” I said. “Leave it alone.”
“I can’t leave it alone. Your grades are up slightly this semester, and I want you to continue in that direction. You should be acting responsibly and challenging yourself further. You’re a junior, Aggie. You’ll start applying to college next year. A baby would ruin all of that.”
Sylvia’s words came rushing back to me. “You say I’m going to college, but I don’t hear you asking me if I want to.”
My mom gave a short laugh. “Of course you’re going to college. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe I don’t want to,” I said. “Did you ever think of that?”
“There’s a whole world out there, and you’re telling me you want to throw away the chance to experience it? You’re going to forgo opportunities to travel, to study new things, and to meet new people just so you can stay in St. Davis? Better yet, so you can stay in St. Davis with a baby ?”
I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I knew what I wasn’t doing, and that was sitting here and listening to my mom for one more second.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, getting to my feet.
My mom did the same. “Then why don’t you enlighten me, Aggie. Tell me what I’m missing. Because I have data for days to support what I’m saying.”
I relaxed my face and gave her the most dead-eyed expression I could muster. “What you’re missing is the point ,” I said. “I’m not a survey. I’m not data. I’m your daughter .”
Before she could say another word, I left her office.
Chapter Eight
FRIDAY, APRIL 10 / 6:45 P.M.
Later that night, my dad found me sorting out my tackle in the garage. Our opener was slated to start the next day at eight A.M., and we had to get to the lake at least an hour and a half early. I wanted to get my gear organized the night before so I could spend as much time as possible in bed the next morning.
“I need new line, and Al says he’s got some down at the hardware store,” my dad said, eyeing the lures and hooks spilling out of my tackle box. “You want to come with me?”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. There was a good chance he didn’t actually need line from Al. Probably he wanted to get me in the car so we could talk. Maybe he was going to bring up what had happened in my mom’s office.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I have what I need.”
“Al said he just got new jigs,” my dad said, leaning against the garage wall. “Really good for the weeds, apparently. Won’t get snagged.”
Jigs were the kind of bait we’d need to fish with tomorrow. It sounded like bribery to me. “So?” I asked.
“So, I’m buying, if they look good to you.”
I took the bait, no pun intended. I did need new jigs. But probably my dad knew that before he ever came into the garage.
The sun was just beginning to fade as we pulled out of our neighborhood cul-de-sac. “I love it when the days start to get longer,” my dad said, turning left toward downtown. “It means spring is really here.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I studied the houses that got smaller and older the closer we got to the hardware store.
“Do you have any idea where the fish will be biting tomorrow?” my dad asked.
For me, it usually depended on a lot of factors—weather, wind, time of year. Somehow, I usually had a pretty good idea but not until we got out on the water.
“I’ll probably know once I’m in the boat,” I said.
“Either way, I’ll be glad to have you out there.” Already my dad was acting like tomorrow’s opener was an actual tournament, which it wasn’t. It was just the Bass Masters and some other
“That is the truth,” I insisted.
“Listen, I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”
This was bullshit. She might as well have had bricks and mortar at her feet, the way she was building walls between us.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” I said. “Leave it alone.”
“I can’t leave it alone. Your grades are up slightly this semester, and I want you to continue in that direction. You should be acting responsibly and challenging yourself further. You’re a junior, Aggie. You’ll start applying to college next year. A baby would ruin all of that.”
Sylvia’s words came rushing back to me. “You say I’m going to college, but I don’t hear you asking me if I want to.”
My mom gave a short laugh. “Of course you’re going to college. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe I don’t want to,” I said. “Did you ever think of that?”
“There’s a whole world out there, and you’re telling me you want to throw away the chance to experience it? You’re going to forgo opportunities to travel, to study new things, and to meet new people just so you can stay in St. Davis? Better yet, so you can stay in St. Davis with a baby ?”
I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I knew what I wasn’t doing, and that was sitting here and listening to my mom for one more second.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, getting to my feet.
My mom did the same. “Then why don’t you enlighten me, Aggie. Tell me what I’m missing. Because I have data for days to support what I’m saying.”
I relaxed my face and gave her the most dead-eyed expression I could muster. “What you’re missing is the point ,” I said. “I’m not a survey. I’m not data. I’m your daughter .”
Before she could say another word, I left her office.
Chapter Eight
FRIDAY, APRIL 10 / 6:45 P.M.
Later that night, my dad found me sorting out my tackle in the garage. Our opener was slated to start the next day at eight A.M., and we had to get to the lake at least an hour and a half early. I wanted to get my gear organized the night before so I could spend as much time as possible in bed the next morning.
“I need new line, and Al says he’s got some down at the hardware store,” my dad said, eyeing the lures and hooks spilling out of my tackle box. “You want to come with me?”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. There was a good chance he didn’t actually need line from Al. Probably he wanted to get me in the car so we could talk. Maybe he was going to bring up what had happened in my mom’s office.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I have what I need.”
“Al said he just got new jigs,” my dad said, leaning against the garage wall. “Really good for the weeds, apparently. Won’t get snagged.”
Jigs were the kind of bait we’d need to fish with tomorrow. It sounded like bribery to me. “So?” I asked.
“So, I’m buying, if they look good to you.”
I took the bait, no pun intended. I did need new jigs. But probably my dad knew that before he ever came into the garage.
The sun was just beginning to fade as we pulled out of our neighborhood cul-de-sac. “I love it when the days start to get longer,” my dad said, turning left toward downtown. “It means spring is really here.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I studied the houses that got smaller and older the closer we got to the hardware store.
“Do you have any idea where the fish will be biting tomorrow?” my dad asked.
For me, it usually depended on a lot of factors—weather, wind, time of year. Somehow, I usually had a pretty good idea but not until we got out on the water.
“I’ll probably know once I’m in the boat,” I said.
“Either way, I’ll be glad to have you out there.” Already my dad was acting like tomorrow’s opener was an actual tournament, which it wasn’t. It was just the Bass Masters and some other
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