Chapter 2 Family Date

Crystal

As we dined, the waiters flirted shamelessly with my father, who reciprocated their advances. I tried to ignore the winks and subtle hand touches, focusing on my meal instead. My mother was engrossed in her phone, oblivious to the scene unfolding before us.

Given my parents' youthful appearance, I couldn't fathom why my father cheated on my mother. While she could be insufferable at times, she wasn't unattractive. I had stumbled upon secret tissue paper messages, which only reinforced my suspicions about his infidelities. It seemed he preferred one-night stands to committed relationships.

When my mother excused herself to use the restroom, the first waiter openly flirted with my father. "That's an old man," I said, chewing my meat.

The waiter looked at me, then sighed. "I said

that's my father," I repeated.

My father intervened, "Crystal, stop."

I glanced at the young woman, who appeared older than me. "That man doesn't have much money, like you think he does. The rich one is in the bathroom; you should wait for her if you want something."

My father's face reddened with anger, but he couldn't scold me without revealing his infidelity to my mother. The waiter, realizing her mistake, left annoyed.

Another waiter approached, and I smirked, watching the scene unfold. "He's gay," I said, and my father choked on his drink. The waiter's face paled.

"My other father is in the bathroom," I continued, feigning innocence. "If he comes back, you'll be dead, or worse, your backside will be...rearranged."

The waiter hastily retreated. My father pleaded, "Crystal, stop what you're doing."

"I'm doing nothing, dear father," I replied, sipping my wine.

A third waiter approached, and I wondered if my father was irresistible. I mimed slicing my neck with a knife, and the waiter looked frightened. I raised the knife I was using to eat and showed her, slicing my thumb while smiling. She ran off, and my father lowered his head in embarrassment.

My mother emerged from the bathroom, noticing my bleeding finger wrapped in a tissue. "Can you be careful, you're a lady, for goodness' sake!" she scolded, sitting down.

"What did I miss?" she asked my father, who replied solemnly, "Nothing."

As she began eating, I caught the gaze of the waiter I had earlier told my father was gay. She was glaring at me from across the room.

My father excused himself to the bathroom, and I seized the opportunity. "I want to wash my injury," I said, standing up and following him.

I hid and watched as the waiter entered the bathroom. I recorded them kissing on my phone. Once I had enough evidence, I walked in, grabbed her hair, and flung her against the wall. My father panicked.

"Please, Crystal, leave!" he begged.

Not done," I replied, slapping her. When she raised her hand to retaliate, I seized it, squeezing hard, and punched her jaw.

I threatened her, "Stay away from my family, or you'll face consequences that will lead you to your grave."

I walked out with my father, requesting to see the manager despite his pleas to let it go. I wanted her fired.

My mother would handle the rest, but not within the hotel.

I approached the table, avoiding my mother's gaze. My father kept her company, having no choice but to do so. As a part-time waiter, I knew the hotel's rules well.

I requested the manager, who emerged promptly. I showed him the video footage. "This is against the rules, and she needs to be fired, or I'll-"

The manager interrupted, "You don't need to go further; I'm familiar with the rules." I smiled, watching as they fired the waiter.

"It's not my fault, sir; I was just satisfying the customer," the waiter pleaded.

I stepped in, "I'm the customer's daughter, and I warned you." The waiter panicked, and I smiled sheepishly.

The manager declared, "You're fired, Mary." She begged for her job, but was escorted out. The other waiters looked on nervously, fearing I might expose them as well. I merely smirked and returned to my seat.

My mother inquired, "Why was she fired?"

I replied nonchalantly, "She was caught kissing a customer." My father continued eating, unaffected, while my mother's eyes darted between us. I shook my head, and she smiled knowingly.

We finished our meal in silence, with no further incidents of waiters flirting with my father.

My mother paid for the meal, and we left the restaurant. However, I refused to get in the car due to the earlier incident. My father cleaned the vehicle while we waited outside.

Once done, we entered the car, and my father fell asleep. My mother spent the entire ride engrossed in her phone, while I drove.

Upon arriving home, I waited for my parents to retire to their room before sending the incriminating video to my mother's phone. I then retreated to the sitting room, where I heard screams and shattering glass.

Peeking upstairs, I saw my mother ordering my father out of their room. "Get out of this room!" she yelled.

My father pleaded, "Lydia, let me explain."

However, my mother was unforgiving. "There's nothing to explain, Richard."

As they argued, I chimed in, "That's the girl who got fired." I then walked to my room.

My mother violently pushed my father away. "Get out!" she thundered.

I stopped in my tracks, watching as my father trudged downstairs and out the door. My mother broke down in tears.

I shook my head, thinking, "Love is stupid." This wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

I knew where my father would spend the night. This was a familiar routine.

I stood at my mother's bedroom door, watching her cry herself to sleep. I'm not good at showing affection, so I just waited, making sure she didn't harm herself. After four hours, I was certain she was asleep.

I stepped out onto the balcony, and the rain poured down. Looking down, I saw my father sleeping on the floor, getting soaked. I went back to my room, grabbed an umbrella and blanket, and threw them down to him with a raincoat. It wasn't much, but it was the best I could do.

My father woke up, put on the coat, arranged the umbrella, and covered himself with the blanket. He looked up, and I moved back, staying hidden. I think he assumed it was my mother who had thrown down the supplies, but I had no intention of correcting him.

This wasn't the first time my father had slept outside after cheating, but it was the first time it had rained. I was sure my mother didn't know about the rain, and I wasn't about to wake her.

I returned to my room and went to sleep.

I woke up early and went to my mother's room. When she woke, her eyes were puffy and red. "You look like shit," I said.

"I know," she replied with a chuckle.

Since I had a late class, I had time to spare. My mother showered and got dressed. As we walked downstairs, she opened the door to find my father shivering.

"What?" she shrieked.

"It rained last night," I said from behind her. Her expression turned to horror as she took in my father's state.

"You didn't tell me," she said, her voice trembling.

"His punishment, you punished him," I replied.

My mother burst into tears, ruining her makeup. I scrunched up my face. "Stop crying, it's annoying."

She looked at my father, then at me. "Did you give him those?" she asked, referring to the umbrella and blanket.

I glanced at my father before responding, "No."

My mother helped my father up, and he looked at her with pain-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, Lydia."

She cried and laughed simultaneously. "It's okay, I forgive you, my love." She pecked him on the lips. "Get the car ready."

I stepped out and prepared the car while my mother helped my father in. I drove straight to the hospital.

"Small cold again," I muttered under my breath as I parked the car. My father was rushed into the hospital.

I walked into the hospital room and found my mother crying, despite the nurses' reassurances that my father's condition was minor. She insisted on running tests, saying, "I can't lose him."

I sat beside her, and one of the nurses approached me. She was bold, and her eyes pleaded with me. "Please calm your mother down," she asked before leaving.

My mother's tears stopped immediately. She sat up, her expression determined. "I can't let him die," she whispered.

I said, "I know, but you should stop crying here. Besides, you sent him into the rain." My mother cleaned her tears, composing herself.

I reassured her, "He'll be fine, the doctor says so."

A nurse approached us, saying, "The patient needs hot coffee and hot food, please."

I stood up, took my mother's purse, and headed to the nearest restaurant. I ate first before bringing back food and coffee for my father.