Chương 3
Then, one evening, I came downstairs and found everyone gathered around Vanessa’s laptop.
A beach filled the screen.
White sand, blue water, rows of bright umbrellas.
Lily bounced in her chair.
“Florida!”
Vanessa snapped the laptop shut so quickly that the sound made everyone look at me.
For half a second, nobody spoke.
Then Mom smiled too brightly.
“We were just looking at pictures.”
I set my work bag on the floor.
“Pictures of what?”
Vanessa reached for her water glass.
“Nothing important.”
Lily looked delighted by her own knowledge.
“We’re going on an airplane.”
The silence that followed was different from all the others.
This one had been prepared for me.
Mom’s eyes moved toward Vanessa before returning to me.
“It’s just a little family trip,” she said.
I waited for the obvious next sentence.
It did not come.
Dad cleared his throat and looked at the closed laptop.
Brian studied something on his phone.
Even Lily, who usually filled silence as if paid by the word, sensed enough tension to become still.
“When?” I asked.
Vanessa answered this time.
“January.”
“Where?”
“Fort Lauderdale.”
“How long?”
“Five days.”
I looked from her to Mom.
“And when were you planning to tell me?”
Mom pressed her lips together.
“We were going to.”
“When?”
“Emily.”
“When?”
Dad shifted in his chair.
“It just came together.”
That explanation might have worked if there had not been a browser tab still reflected in the dark laptop screen showing a resort reservation page.
It might have worked if Lily had not announced airplanes.
It might have worked if Vanessa had not closed the computer like I had walked in on a crime.
“Who’s going?”
Nobody answered quickly enough.
I felt the answer before I heard it.
Mom finally said, “Your father and me, Vanessa and Brian, and the kids.”
I stood beside the table with my coat still on.
The house suddenly felt too warm.
“And me?”
Vanessa rubbed one finger along the rim of her glass.
“Well, somebody has to stay here.”
I actually laughed.
It came out once, sharp and confused.
“Stay here for what?”
Mom looked irritated now, which was somehow easier to bear than pity.
“The house.”
“The house can survive five days.”
“There are things to keep an eye on.”
“In January?”
Dad said, “Pipes can freeze.”
I stared at him.
“You’re flying to Florida and leaving me behind to guard the pipes?”
“That isn’t what he means,” Mom said.
“Then what does he mean?”
Vanessa leaned back.
“This is exactly why nobody wanted to bring it up yet.”
I turned toward her.
“Bring what up?”
“The trip.”
“No, Vanessa.”
My voice sounded calmer than I felt.
“Why didn’t you want to bring it up?”
She glanced at Brian.
He gave her nothing.
Finally she sighed.
“Because you make everything into this whole accounting exercise.”
For several seconds, I could not find a response.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means every time somebody does anything, you start listing what you pay for.”
“I list what I pay for when people tell me I contribute nothing.”
“Nobody said nothing.”
“You called babysitting rent.”
“Oh my God, are we still on that?”
I looked at Mom.
She avoided my eyes.
That hurt more than anything Vanessa said.
“Did you all decide this together?”
Mom rubbed her thumb across a scratch in the table.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?”
“It’s expensive, honey.”
There it was.
Money.
The one subject nobody seemed embarrassed to discuss when mine was involved.
I nodded slowly.
“So you couldn’t afford another ticket.”
Mom gave me a relieved look, as though I had finally understood.
“We thought you’d be working anyway.”
“I have vacation days.”
“Well, we didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Vanessa exhaled loudly through her nose.
“You just started that job.”
“I’ve been there almost a year.”
“Whatever.”
Dad pushed back his chair.
“That’s enough.”
I looked at him.
He did not look angry with Vanessa.
He looked angry that I was making the evening uncomfortable.
That distinction settled something in me.
I picked up my work bag.
Mom said my name.
I walked upstairs.
No one followed me.
The next morning, I woke before my alarm and lay staring at the ceiling while pipes clicked somewhere in the wall.
My room still contained pieces of seventeen-year-old me.
A chipped ceramic bowl full of old concert tickets.
A college acceptance letter tucked behind books.
A drawer that jammed unless lifted at exactly the right angle.
I had been treating the room like evidence that my life here was temporary.
Now it looked more like evidence that temporary could become permanent if I kept allowing other people to define it.
At work, I made three mistakes before ten.
None were serious.
All were unusual.
Claire stopped beside my desk around lunch.
“You want to tell me what’s wrong, or should I guess until I accidentally offend you?”
I almost smiled.
“My family is going to Florida.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“They’re going without me.”
Her expression changed.
“Oh.”
“Apparently I need to watch the house.”
Claire sat on the edge of the empty desk beside mine.
“Do they normally do things like that?”
I looked at the spreadsheet on my monitor.
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Claire did not argue with it.
She only nodded.
Then she said, “There’s an opening coming up on the Northfield accounts team.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
“Senior analyst track.”
“I’m not senior.”
“No, but we’re hiring internally first.”
She folded her arms.
“You passed your certification.”
“That doesn’t make me ready.”
“Maybe not.”
She glanced at my screen.
“But the person currently doing half the work you’d be assigned is you.”
My first instinct was to explain why I could not.
The commute would be longer.
The hours could be unpredictable.
There would be occasional overnight travel.
My parents relied on me.
May you like
The kids relied on me.
Then I heard Vanessa’s voice saying somebody had to stay here.
