Chapter 11

                                    

                                          
Christmas Eve...
"Eva, come on, what do you think?" Dean asks as we look at some apartments online. We are sitting at my house in the dining room on Christmas Eve. We planned a trip to Lovington next week and are trying to make appointments with the landlords. 
"I don't know, Dean; are we even sure we can afford a place like that?" I ask, and he looks at me, and my heart skips a beat. 
"We will, I promise you," he spoke, and I knew he was being honest, but something inside me just didn't fully trust him. 
It went well the first night his parents came over to discuss our living together in Lovington. After Vicky and I were told to go to the kitchen, they sat out there and spoke with Dean. I worried about what it was about, and Dean still hasn't told me, and I don't know if he ever will. 
We had been looking at places to live since that night, and I wondered why he was pushing me to look into it more now. I hate this because I am worried about whether moving right after graduation is still a good idea, but that's what he wants. 
Dean keeps flipping through photos of the same place. It was a cute three-bedroom apartment on the main level of the building, which was great, with mostly wood flooring throughout. Dean had promised me a three-bedroom apartment, and he wanted to ensure I got what I wanted, but I would be happy with two bedrooms. 
"Dean, if we go with this one, I would feel like I needed a job." He changes from relaxed to tense. When I say something about getting a job. He hates the thought of me working. 
Not that it cost that much since it was a college town. They didn't have pricing that was crazy high like some towns had. We were looking at one where the rent was only $500 a month, including everything. All the bills: lights, gas, water, trash, internet, T.V. Dean keeps telling me how great this was and that most places made you pay for your bills and that this would be the best place to get if we applied now and they had an opening by then. 
"No, I don't want you to work," Dean said, his voice dropping low.
"No, Dean, I will work. I won't just sit around the house and do nothing!" I got up and yelled at him. 
"No, you will not work. I won't let you."
"Dean," I hear my father's voice. Dean's head drops, almost like a child being told he couldn't have the cookie in his hand before dinner. "Now, what is the meaning of this?" 
"She won't listen to me about not working when we move up to Lovington," Dean spoke. And I feel like a child being told what I could and couldn't do. 
"I'll be eighteen, and I can work somewhere; I don't want to sit around the house and do nothing!" I yell back. At this, I notice my mother has come out of the kitchen, and Vicky follows behind her. 
"Daughter of mine, I don't want you working just anywhere," my father spoke as he walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "What about your friend paying you for child care?" 
"Dad," I try to be sweet, but it doesn't work. "I will get a job; I hate sitting around doing nothing and won't do that!" I raise my voice to my father. 
"Okay, but I want the number and know where it is!" My father said, and I knew he would find out if I didn't give him the information he wanted. 
"Fine," I spoke, and Dean groaned.
"Eva, please, sweetheart, don't do this. I don't want to worry about you when you are at work," Dean spoke, and I could hear the worry in his voice. If he was going to worry about me, was it worth me having a job? "Why don't we move up there and live briefly? If you still want a job, fine, you get a job." Dean was trying to figure out any way to get me to stay home where he knew I would be safe.