In a town like this, rumors do not require any actual evidence to be treated as absolute truth. People only need someone willing to repeat a lie with enough confidence to make it stick.
My stepmother, Gladys, had always been very confident when it came to tearing down my reputation. When I arrived at the house, she had the front door propped open as if she were expecting a crowd to witness my return.
“Andrea,” she said, stretching out my name with a fake smile. “Well, look who finally remembered where she came from.”
“Good morning, Gladys,” I said as I stepped inside the foyer.
Her gaze swept over my simple outfit of dark jeans and a plain sweater. “Oh,” she sighed while shaking her head, “is that really what you are planning to wear to your father’s big night?”
“I just got off the road, and I thought this was appropriate for a casual gathering,” I told her.
“Tonight is important because the Mayor and the local pastor will be there,” she said while adjustng a vase of flowers. “Your father has worked his whole life for this, and I really do not need any distractions from you.”
I set my small overnight bag by the stairs and looked her in the eye. “I am not here to cause any trouble or be a distraction for anyone.”
Gladys stepped closer and lowered her voice to a sharp whisper. “I heard you left the Coast Guard, which is such a shame since it was the only respectable thing you ever did.”
I remained silent, letting her believe whatever version of the story made her feel superior. She took my silence as a sign of defeat and smiled like she had already won the battle.
“If you aren’t in the service anymore, then you are just a girl with no direction,” she added. She flicked her gaze toward the dining table where she had laid out the event programs.
The younger version of me would have argued with her, but the woman I had become knew better than to fight. I realized that you should never wrestle with someone who actually enjoys the dirt.
“I am going to help with the preparations,” I said as I walked past her into the kitchen.
My father was standing at the counter with a guest list, looking at the names with a focused expression. He had more gray in his hair now, but he still had the same squared shoulders I remembered.
“Andrea,” he said as he looked up, appearing unsure of whether he should sound happy to see me.
“Hi, Dad,” I replied softly.