Unpleasant surprise - part 2/2

What would she do?

For her own sake and for her family, what would Anna do?

The noise of high heels piercing the hallway carpet broke the stillness. She looked slowly at the light passing through the crack under the door, where a shadow stood.

"Anna?" Brenda's voice sounded firm as she called her, but the girl had no intention of responding. "Anna, I know you're in there, open up," she banged on the door without delicacy, forcing it to open.

The girl took a deep breath; her eyes burned with tears yet to be shed. She stood up slowly and turned the key, facing her mother, who was wearing a thin pink silk robe.

"You're home earlier from sch-"

"Who was that man?"

If the sudden question caught Brenda off guard, she didn't show it. Her calm and arrogant expression remained impassive in front of her daughter's tearful face, which was beginning to feel the tingling of anger in her arms.

"Who was that man?" Anna insisted, her choked voice faltering.

Brenda adjusted the robe around her body, crossed her arms, and raised her nose even higher before answering.

"A friend."

Anna clenched her jaw so hard she felt her teeth hurt, her short nails digging into the palms of her clenched fists.

"And you were sitting on a friend's face?!"

Brenda's composed face finally showed some discomfort as her eyebrows raised.

"I didn't give you permission to speak to me like that, young lady!"

"Does Dad know?" she asked, already knowing the answer her mother wouldn't give.

"Know what?" Brenda's petulance had reached its limit.

"Don't play dumb!"

"That's enough!" Brenda's composure seemed to break for the first time. Her fingers pressed the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to regain her calmness.

The girl bit her tongue to avoid disrespecting her further. The respect that Brenda had failed to give to the family that Anna knew was not perfect but was the only one she knew and, yes, loved.

"Sweetheart," Brenda spoke again, this time with her usual soft voice. "You're just a child. You don't need to deal with these problems. This is between me and your father."

"What do you mean?"

"What you saw..." The woman raised her hand to caress her daughter's face, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Won't happen again," her thumb wiped away the tears that wetted her cheek. "Okay?"

Still uncertain, Anna didn't move. Brenda's clear and icy eyes pierced her like thin needles throughout her body, a veiled threat.

With one last sweet smile, Brenda left Anna alone in the dimness of her room. Her eyes were already dry; her heart, racing. And her head so full and agitated that it wouldn't stop throbbing.

***

"ANNA!"

"Ouch!"

The girl quickly brought her finger to her mouth, trying to ease the pain caused by the needle piercing the skin under her nail. Recovering from the shock, she set aside the piece of clothing and got up from the bed, walking slowly toward her mother's voice. In the living room, Brenda awaited her with a letter in hand.

"We'll have to move," she uttered even before Anna descended the last step.

"What?" Her face frowned. "Why?"

"We don't have the money to maintain this house anymore," Brenda said, simply, and returned to staring at the paper in her hands.

Stunned, Anna studied her mother's pale and thin face. Even if she tried to disguise it, she noticed that Brenda's health and vitality were not the same as a few years ago. Since the mess of the divorce, Brenda barely ate. Her 'friends' from before - the wives of her father's colleagues - practically didn't exist anymore, and Anna pretended - for her own sake - not to know about the almost weekly nights when she arrived completely drunk, already with the sunrise.

"And what about the money for my college?" Anna measured her words before letting them out. "The allowance Dad used to give me?"

It was painful to touch on that subject. It hurt that, even after everything, her father didn't even consider asking her if she would like to live with him. He simply packed his things and went to Europe, as if somehow the mere presence of his daughter was an affront to his wounded dignity.

"There's no money," her mother replied without looking at her.

Anna tilted her head in doubt.

No money?

"But I'm in the middle of Senior year!" The girl began to despair - she counted on her savings being full for college. "What am I going to do now?"

That same cold look hit her just like years before. Anna squeezed her injured finger as if that would also ease the tightness in her chest. Crumpling the paper, Brenda clicked her low heels up the stairs in silence, leaving Anna to stare at the emptiness of the once well-decorated living room that would soon be nothing more than white walls.

Would her parents still be together if she had stayed quiet? Would they have rebuilt their marriage, as her mother tried to assure her?

Or would that have only given her mother more chances to repeat the same mistakes?

Anna would never know.

And now she was paying for it.