3: 3
3
Late on the weekend evening, the table had just been set when a few of the aunts and uncles who often came around showed up.
I was at the island slicing watermelon when I heard Dad in the living room introducing Chloe and Dylan.
"You two really know how to raise kids."
Someone said it with a laugh.
"Your younger daughter's studying design, so stylish too, and your son already won a robotics competition. Nothing to worry about with those two."
Dad played modest, but the pride leaked through anyway.
"They're not that great. The oldest never listens. We told her to stay in-state, but she insisted on running off to Northport to study some kind of signal analysis in the ocean. Sounds shaky to me. No idea what she'll even do with it after."
I study marine acoustics.
My professor says we give the deep sea a kind of "checkup," helping people avoid earthquakes and tsunamis, and we can take part in exploration and development too.
In Dad's mouth it came out as one line. "No idea what she'll do with it."
Over dinner, one of the aunts asked about allowances. "My daughter's going away for school next year too. How much a month is reasonable?"
I'd just opened my mouth when Mom answered for me.
She laid a piece of fish on Chloe's plate first. "A girl out on her own can't be scraping by. Our Chloe gets forty-eight hundred a month. Clothes, makeup, going out with friends, it all costs money, and I wire her a little extra now and then too."
Chloe drew out her words with a laugh. "Mom, you still haven't gotten me that new camera."
"I will. We'll go look in a couple days."
Mom patted the back of her hand, her eyes soft with doting.
As for me, five hundred a month, and my phone was Dad's old hand-me-down, the battery swollen, the charging cable ready to snap the second you touched it.
Because the family had two college students to support, and Dylan's coding classes to pay for.
I was the older sister. I was supposed to be sensible.
The aunt praised Chloe for surely landing a scholarship.
Mom jumped right in. "She's been driven since she was little. Not like my oldest, quiet, never made a sound, never brought home any award worth mentioning."
I lowered my head, picked the imitation crab out of my bowl, and set it under the table.
Chestnut trotted over wagging his tail and ate it in one bite.
To this day Mom still hadn't registered that shellfish breaks me out in a rash.
As for the national award certificate in my suitcase, there was no point taking it out.
After the guests had all gone, I cleared the table, washed the dishes, mopped the floor, and only then walked over to the couch.
Dad was half-reclined, sleeping off the drink, while Chloe and Dylan were curled up on the rug playing games, loud enough to give anyone a headache.
I said, "Dad, the temporary access code is about to expire."
He grunted, dug out his phone, his face impatient.
"Got it, I'll renew it another week. Why have you been sitting at home this whole time instead of going out to find a part-time job?"
I didn't answer.
His brow furrowed again. "You're a grown woman. You should be thinking about pulling some weight for this family, not shut up at home waiting to be kept."
I stood there a moment, then turned and put my water glass back in the sideboard.
Early the next morning, I'd just come out of my room when Dad rubbed his temples and called me over. "I had too much to drink last night, came on a little strong. I'm not trying to kick you out."
I nodded. "I know."
I knew it wasn't a drunken slip.
And I knew, too, that deep down he'd always wanted me to take the hint, to move out on my own, so he wouldn't have to be the bad guy.
