Dinner was both better and worse than I’d expected. I’d forgotten just how awful my mother’s cooking was, and Ember and I choked the cold, stale food down with practiced motions. We allowed the appreciation for the act of cooking–but not appreciation for the food itself–to show on our faces for our mother’s sake. Our father scarfed the food down as though he actually enjoyed it, showering our mother with compliments and enabling her terrible food practices.
As young children, Ember and I had always assumed that alcohol made the food taste better. Apparently, the truth was either that Father was a fantastic actor (doubtful), or he enjoyed our mother’s cooking.
Once the final bite had been swallowed, Ember rose from her seat and began collecting plates with our mother, abandoning me to sit with Father at the table. He spoke before I could escape, trapping me at the table.
“It’s been fifteen years to the day since I stopped drinking,” he said, his low baritone carrying easily across the table.
The words unleashed a tangle of emotions I wasn’t prepared to take the time to dismantle. “Good,” I said, hoping the conversation would end soon.
“I know you and Ember don’t miss your old man too much. But your mom tried real hard to raise you right. You should have told her about your new job. Not Ember,” he continued.
How very like him. Always told us what we should have done but never took the time to hear our side of the story.
I nodded once, slowly, to show that I understood, then escaped to the kitchen. At the tap of my hand on her shoulder, my mother fumbled for the plate that spilled from her hands. It bounced off of one hand before she caught it in the other with a sigh of relief.
“Ember and I can clean. You go sit down with Father,” I said, reaching for the plate.
She pulled it back out of reach, as she’d done with my books when I was in trouble or grounded. “Don’t be silly! You and Ember are guests in this house. Your dad will help me.”
Ember shook her head fondly. “Mom..”
Mother wagged her finger at us, almost dropping the plate again. “Don’t ‘mom’ me. Do as you’re told.”
“You can’t have it both ways. If we’re old enough to be guests, we’re old enough to decide when to listen to our parents. Go sit down while we finish.”
Standing in the doorway, our father joked, “Are we sure they’re our kids? The Ember and Hayden I know wouldn’t do dishes if their life depended on it.”
I resided the urge to roll my eyes. Ember and I were fully functioning adults, capable of doing our dishes.
“Children should always have to listen to their parents,” Mother said, a smile gracing her lips.
“If they want to do the cleaning, let them do the cleaning Maria.”
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Facing against all three of us, Mother backed down, brushing past Father to sit in the living room. Father lingered briefly in the doorway as if he were about to say something. Then, he left, starting a boisterous conversation with our mother. Their laughter echoed across the walls while Ember and I worked silently.
Periodically, she’d pause in her dishwashing to glance at my face as I dried and put the dishes in their place. Finally, she said, “I think Dad’s proud of you.”
“For once.”
“He’s not all bad.”
The towel in my hands slowed, squeaking along the damp dish. Certainly, our father could have been much, much worse. He was practically a saint compared to Ava, the Mayor, and any number of killers I’d met in my travels.
A killer…
..What does that make me?
The world grayed out at the edges, and I struggled to find balance. Images of red hair and blood flashed across my vision, followed by the echo of a gunshot.
Something brushed against my shoulder, and I startled, whipping around to meet Ember’s worried green eyes.
“Hayden?”
I ripped my eyes away from hers, suddenly worried about what she could read from my eyes. The towel I was holding brushed up against my hand, and I glanced down to see the scattered pieces of the plate I’d been holding on the counter. I flexed my fingers, wondering if I’d dropped or smashed it. Could my fingers still feel? My thumbnail bit into my index finger, sending a tiny pinprick of pain to my brain.
A warm hand grabbed my elbow tightly. “You look pale. Maybe you should go sit down.” I shrugged my sister off, reaching for the trash can. “I’m fine.”
She backed away, looking hurt.
The final shards clattered into the trash. “I just felt a little dizzy.”
“This is the last dish. Why don’t you go sit down?” she insisted.
I tossed a fresh towel at her face. In the living room, I sank into the plush, cold leather of the recliner as I tried to shake off whatever was plaguing me. Rather forcefully, I shook my head and redirected my thoughts, comparing the comfortable warmth of the friendly dinners I’d had recently with the forced and cold dinners that were family dinners—longing pierced through my heart, leaving something hollow and sad in its place.
I slid my phone from my pocket, letting the warm back of the battery heat up my fingers. Currently, I couldn’t repeat those bright days, but I could do the next best thing.
Ember, ever nosey, slid behind my chair and leaned over, rudely attempting to look at my phone screen. I tilted it away and clicked the screen off, but the damage was done.
“You’re playing a video game?! With other people?! Who are you, and what have you done with my brother!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“C’mon Hayden. What server do you play on? What’s your username?” she pestered. “And since when have you texted people first?” she asked, snatching my phone from my hands.
“Hey!”
“Ember!”
She ignored both Mother and me, looking contemplatively at the screen. “Is it still 072954?” she asked, already typing it in and unlocking my phone.
I grabbed it back and vanished it into my inventory before she could read anything she shouldn’t. “We need to have a talk about boundaries.”
“But you’re my brother,” she said, as though that absolved her of any wrongdoing. “I just wanted to get ahold of this friend of yours. Is he the one you were supposed to apologize to?”
A cough sounded from the couch, and our heads whipped around to our exasperated mother. Like most people who spent much time around Ember and me, Mother ignored our bickering and changed the topic. “I found some old books of yours if you’d like to go through them today? A few are from that Detective series you both loved.”