"That's how I ended up in a Mardi Gras parade, on Bourbon Street, carrying two fighting tuxedo cats while wearing a poodle skirt and a sombrero." Link was grabbing his sides wheezing as he finished his four-thousandth schmoozy story of the afternoon. He was laughing so hard that he could barely get the rest of the words out.

The whole room was yucking it up like they were best friends, except for Dad and me. We weren't having that great of a time. My mom would have been right there with us if she hadn't plastered on her "everything's fine" smile she used when she was upset.

The meeting went a little rougher than planned. Link and the lawyers got into a screaming match about fifteen seconds in. I walked out twice in a tantrum when the woman with the too-tight bun kept referencing my instability and unreliability. She kept calling my condition a liability to the label.

The third time she mentioned it, I began crying hysterically. Dad stood up and threatened to shut the whole meeting down if she made one more derogatory comment towards me. He used quite a few of his favorite words on her. He finished up his tirade by telling her that she could shove her broomstick up her ass and fly her dried-up, leathery cunt back to Los Angeles.

After my dad's angry outburst silenced the room, I began listing off some of my concerns to the group. The woman attempted to talk over me every time I opened my mouth. Dad raised an eyebrow at her in warning and started cracking his knuckles loudly. She cowered down, playing with a silver pen nervously.  For the rest of the meeting, she pouted and would glance up occasionally to give him that "something smells bad in here" look.

My mom's head was on a swivel the whole rest of the meeting after the incident. She was trying to play peacemaker between everyone. She smiled and nodded at the right times while secretly reaching around behind my chair to smack Dad when he misbehaved.

She hit him a lot.

And when I say a lot, I meant like the whole entire time.

It was like a perfectly choreographed dance between the two. They had been practicing this one for years.

Dad would open his mouth.

Smack.

Dad would utter something rude.

Smack.

He would hurl an insult.

Smack.

I leaned down and sneezed.

Smack.

The last one was an accident. She was just in a rhythm.

She shrugged her shoulders at him unapologetically when he clenched his jaw at her for the last one.

"Well, I think we have worked what we needed to accomplish today." The guy with the bad hair plugs said as he stood up and reached across the table to shake Link's hand. He started to reach out his hand to my dad, who not-so-politely stared at him, refusing the gesture.

I loved my grouchy dad. I laid my head on his shoulder to thank him for just being him. There were a lot of actors in this room, but he never felt the need to compromise who he was for the sake of others.

He was a crotchety old man, but I loved him every second of every day for it.

"We will send over the documents tomorrow morning after our legal team has reviewed them. Jessa, I am extremely pleased that we were able to sit down today to discuss the situation with you. We hope to be hearing from you soon. If you have any questions or need anything, let me know. My personal cell is on the back of my card in case you need it. You can call anytime you want." The younger, dark-haired guy stood up and walked over around the table to hand me his card. "I mean anytime. Day or night. Please don't hesitate."

He leaned in a little too close and winked at me. He crowded my space for much longer than appropriate while he stared down at my breasts like he had x-ray vision.

"Thank you so much. Link will definitely give you a call if Jessa has any questions." My mom snatched the card out of my hand and threw it across the table.

Link reached across the table to grab it, but Dad swiped the card before he could get to it. He took it in his hands and shredded it into little teeny pieces and threw them back in the guy's direction. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair without offering an explanation.

"Come on. I'll walk you out." Link stood up with wide eyes. He motioned to the door quickly to get them out of the room before anything else could happen to ruin the negotiations.

The trio of dickweeds followed Link out the door, leaving me alone in the room with my anxious mother and pissed-off father. If history predicted how the car ride home would go, they both would be taking their frustrations out on each other for the next ten minutes and then wouldn't be able to keep their hands to themselves the rest of the night.

I had recently come to the realization that they both liked to pick fights with each other just because they could. There didn't even have to be a reason, they enjoyed the drama.

I inherited that gene from both of them.

"Do you want to come back to the house with us? We can order in some takeout." Mom asked, swiping my unruly hair back from my face. She tucked it back behind my ear gently.

My phone lit up with a message. I sighed too loudly when I saw Cameron's name pop up.

I picked up the phone and unlocked it to check the message. It was just a sweet little text asking me how I was doing. Mom leaned over and read it over my shoulder as I debated in my head whether I was going to reply or not.

I decided on the latter. I locked the phone and turned it face down on the table.

"You should text him back. He's going to get worried." She said.

"I know." I chewed on my lip as I stared down at the phone.

"You need to tell him," Dad added.

"I know, but I'm not ready for this."

"Jessa, you have a choice to make. No one can make this decision for you. Cameron can't. Your mom and I can't. Only you can choose." Dad offered some fatherly words of wisdom.

"What if I am wrong? What if I get sick? What do I do then? What if it doesn't work out?" I wanted one of them to tell me what to do.

Isn't that what parents were for?

"What if it does?" Dad asked. "You can play the what-if and should have game the rest of your life if you choose to. But before you do, I want you to know that there is a path for every decision you make. Each one of those roads will lead you someplace you have never been before. How can anyone tell you which one is right or which one is wrong? They have never been you before. They haven't lived your life. That is why it is your decision and not anyone else's. Only you know where you are going."

"Damnit," I growled and started hitting my forehead against the table.

Stupid. Fucking. Adulting. I. Hate. It. So. Fucking. Much.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

So. Fucking. Stupid.

My mom placed her hand under my head to stop me before I gave myself a concussion.

"Can we do anything to help make it better, babygirl? Do you want us to go with you?" She asked.

"No," I grumbled out in frustration. " I need to go talk to Cameron alone."