Mrs Goody Two Shoes IX

On the run

Honesty is a difficult virtue to keep playing at

It was a heady feeling -- the kind you get when you have bunked college for the first time, or have had the illicit sip of vodka as a teenager. It was just the kind of thrill you experience when you go out there, be reckless and do the thing that you absolutely fear getting caught for. Believe me, I was relishing every moment of it.
Except that, at the few odd moments when truth dawned on me, I thought it was weird. I am of the ripe old age of twenty-seven, and this little escapade, wasn't it too girly? I mean, at twenty-seven, don't you any which way call your own shots? There should be no need for an adventure such as this for an adult woman like me! Am I not the master (mistress to be politically correct) of my own life or what? The questions buzzed around in my head in between Tequila shots. And for a fraction of a second, only a fraction but one that was damaging enough, I remembered my father-in-law's face.
Well, remembered isn't the right way of putting it. It wasn't an expression I had seen already that my mind conjured up, but rather one that I would see, once, as and when, I returned home.
I had called him with my heart rate escalating every second, "Papa, you see, I mean... I will be late." A grave tone asked me, "How late?" "You know, you see, I don't know." And before the next question, I said in one breath, "See, my boss, as in the super boss, he's called a meeting. AFTER the edition. At night. Late. And then, I will have to wait for the office cab. That will be late. [Too many 'lates' were making their way into my sentences.] I will come. [What was that? Reassurance about the return of the prodigal daughter-in-law?]. You please have dinner, food is in the fridge, just warm them in the microwave, just..." the voice trailed off, but I had done it. Fibbed to the visiting father-in-law while my heart raced in fear. Of being caught.
Then we were off, to a drinking party, the image of myself the sweet, obedient daughter-in-law crumbling with every gulp. I had lied. Successfully. But years of being 'good' was giving me a pretty bad guilt trip, which, of course, I had to drown in the drinks. But after a few pegs, I thought, as long as he has the 'boss' to blame, who cares?