Collided

Waking up today, I should have inferred that the heavens stood against me. From getting up to four

hours later after my alarm must have rung, to discover I had to tidy up my apartment.

Cleaning was one household task I detested with everything in me. I would pay to have it

obliterated from the earth if I held such power. It took everything in me to clean and organize

my space, and I didn't love one bit of it.

Needing an outlet to release some pent-up frustration and energy, I was dressed to meet with

Dylan and Roland, my best buddies from college, sophomore year, when my dad's call came in.

I instantly became annoyed when I saw his name spelled out across my iPhone 13 Pro Max.

Nothing good ever came out of speaking with him. My dad had the ability and power to turn a

nice, pleasant, and optimistic day into a pathetic one within the blink of an eye. And he didn't have

to do too much. Just a phone call could make that transpire.

Growing up, I constantly loathed the precepts and ideologies he tried to execute on me and my

siblings, particularly Ernest, who was the eldest.

Without lingering for me to let out anything, he barked out his demand on wanting to see me

with prompt effect. Of course, he missed me, note the sarcasm!

I can't recollect the last time my dad ever called to check on me or my well-being. He always

wanted something done, like a hungry peasant who couldn't wait for his meal to be served; you

dare not disobey, or the outcome will be grave.

I shot a text to Dylan and Roland, telling them I was unable to make it anymore.

Arriving at my parents' residence thirty minutes later, I parked my Lexus 360 in the garage and

strolled to the front door. The door opened immediately as I pushed the doorbell, revealing

Alice, the housekeeper who had stayed here for more than two decades.

"Hello, Alice." She flung her arms open and enfolded me in a hug. She is scented like lavender and

baby powder.

"Have you been hiding away from me?" She reprimanded as she pulled my ears.

"Of course not! I've just been busy, that's all." I answered back.

"Here, have this. Give it to Sam."

I said, thrusting the polythene bag that contained groceries towards her. Sam was her

10-year-old granddaughter, who came around occasionally.

"Oh, Ethan. You didn't have to. Thank you." She beamed and took the bag.

"Your parents are waiting in the dining room," she said, guiding the way.

"Ah, are we having dinner soon? Could you please add chicken wings for me?"

"I'm not promising, though."

She turned into the kitchen while I found my way to the dining table where my parents were

seated.

My father was at the head of the table, sipping coffee from his silverware cup. My mom was

skimming through the week's hottest glamor publication, which included spinsters and

billionaire bachelors. She was obsessed with male images and always had a copy delivered

every week.

My parents' relationship was, well, you could say platonic, but with the sex part. They couldn't

stand each other and didn't even try to conceal it, except at public functions.

"Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom," I said as I pulled out a seat and sat down.

"Hey Ethan, have you seen the women in this week's edition?" My mom questioned, directing to

the magazine in her well-manicured hands.

"I'm good too, thanks for asking," I answered sarcastically.

Alice came into the room with a tray of food. The aroma filled the air as she set them down. We

were having Caribbean rice and fries, with chicken wings in mine. My mom's plate contained

salad and green peas with toppings on it. So bland, I thought. Alice also poured wine into the

glass cups.

"Thanks." I appreciated. She smiled as she walked out of the room.

We ate in silence for a few minutes before my mom broke it.

"I was hoping to see a lady walk in," she said, dabbing her red-painted lips. Who does a whole

makeover just to have an indoor dinner? My mom.

"Sorry to disappoint you, then," I said.

"How's Mae?"

I gritted my teeth in irritation as soon as I heard her name.

Mae was my ex-girlfriend, an actress. We broke up over five months ago, and it didn't end well.

The separation wasn't my fault, and it wasn't something I like to reminisce on.

"I haven't heard from her, and we are not together anymore." My mom knows this, but she still

asks to piss me off. She and Mae were relatively close and shared the same interests, which

comprised gushing over hot single men. She still blames me for our breakup. As if.

"I had dinner with her, and she said she was seeing Jimmy Parker," Mom revealed.

"Of course!"

Jimmy was an actor and a hot one at that. Even a gay man would want to go out with him. I

always had an intuition that he was gay, but I was wrong after all.

"Must be nice. Can we not talk about her?" I pleaded.

My mom was nice at times, but also difficult and demanding at times. She had some traits like

that of my father. Some included cheating and deception. My parents were both cheating in

their marriage. Although they had an unstated rule not to get caught, they were involved in the

act, nevertheless.

They didn't love each other and had gotten married through an arranged marriage.

Who still pulls such a stunt in the 21st century?

My dad cleared his throat as he lowered his coffee cup.

"Here goes the sermon, " I muttered under my breath.