Dimensions of Genesis Read Online Free

Tiffany with a spoiled voice and
over-exaggerating her hand movements.
    Despite Ellen’s comments, David, and
especially Tiffany, knew all too well, that mom eventually gives
in.
    As far as David could tell, Ellen couldn’t
stand to be outdone by anyone, especially when it came to anything
luxurious. Ellen Blake had a compulsive need for her, and her
daughter, to be at the top of every list. She even insisted David
buy her an expensive home in the most elite part of the city.
    “Have to keep up a respectable image honey.”
She would state if David attempted to reject any of her elitist
notions.
    At her insistence, David and she had to drive
matching BMW's. He would've been perfectly happy driving his old,
reliable Chevelle. It didn't even occur to him to parade his
profession around like arrogant medical royalty. He could not
comprehend the audacity of people and their prestigious notions,
least of all, his wife’s.
    Sighing, David leaned in to kiss Ellen on the
forehead, but before he could make contact; she abruptly moved
away. Wrinkling her nose, she stated bluntly, “Ugh, Dave, you need
a shower.”
    Rejected, exhausted and mildly relieved to
have been excused from Ellen’s sulky mood, he retreated to his
bedroom.
    Since Tiffany was a baby, Ellen insisted on
having her own room. “I don't feel the need for traditional
sleeping arrangements.” She told him a month after their
wedding. 
    Entering his room, a navy comforter welcomed
him as it hugged his bed. A simple roll down blind filled his
window and a shaggy cream area rug warmed the wood flooring.
Nothing fancy, just the way he liked it.
    Several pictures were arranged on his
dresser, faded memories captured in print, like ghosts imprisoned
within a moment in time. He paused to look at one of his favorites.
A young David grinned devilishly, his wavy blonde hair defying
gravity as he flung mud at his sister.
    Next was an elegant sepia photograph of his
mother, Laura, sitting in her favorite chair. Her face pensive,
chin resting on her graceful hand, and her eyes staring withdrawn
out the window. It appeared unlikely she suspected his father was
sneaking into the room to snap a picture of her.
    Unbeknownst to everyone but her, the quiet
moment he captured was likely his mother trying to articulate the
words to tell her family she was dying. David brushed the glass
with the back of his fingers to remove any trace of dust that might
have accumulated near his mother’s angelic face.
    The next picture was a large photo of
Tiffany, at three years old, staring smugly at him. She was wearing
a fluffy pink gown, complete with a sparkling tiara and a perfectly
trained smile. Ellen insisted Tiffany enter several Miss Mini
Beauty Pageants.
    Needless to say, as beautiful as David
thought his daughter to be, he only attended but one of these
illustrious events. He promptly informed Ellen afterward, “I’d
rather have a vasectomy done in a public bathroom with a dirty
butter knife then ever see that disgusting display of child
exploitation again!” Her curt response to his lack of support was,
“That can be arranged.”
    A wedding picture of Ellen and himself also
lurked within the photos, a day he recalls as stressful, to say the
least. This picture really did say a thousand words; David with his
forced smile and Ellen looking smug in her gown. The whole wedding
day should have been scripted and filmed for the amount of
sincerity it held.
    “David, where is the speech I wrote for you?”
Ellen asked him the morning of the wedding.
    “I...wanted to write my own.” he stated,
staring at the piece of scrap paper in his hands.
    Shaking her head and snorting, she replied,
“If I wanted you to write it, I would have told you so.” Taking a
deep breath, as though composing herself; in a sweet voice added,
“Honey, it has to be perfect today. Don't you want me to be happy?”
Her lashes fluttering like butterflies.
    David should've seen it coming. Her mother,
Victoria,