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Would I ever be?
I crawled out, leaving the light on. Jimmy hovered as I stood and peered into the attic space just as I was shutting the door, leaving Gabriel alone up there. I hoped Jimmy didn’t find some excuse to return and poke around.
Jimmy wore a cleaner dark T-shirt and jeans now. Had he changed downstairs?
“How’d it go?” he asked. “Got everything you need?”
I nodded. “Not sure how clean she needs things to be.”
He made a dismissive hand wave and urged me to follow him. “She’ll find something that needs cleaning. Always does. Even when I’ve done it.”
Downstairs, I trailed behind Jimmy to the table in the breakfast nook near the kitchen. I was soon met by the scent of salted fried beef and spices I wasn’t familiar enough with to distinguish.
The table was laid out with placemats. My father sat at the head of the table, and Carol was next to him. My father had changed into one of his work shirts, his hair brushed. Carol wore a new blue silk shirt, her hair still fluffy around her face, but she reeked of a heavy perfume.
I grimaced awkwardly when they turned to look at me.
“Where’s your sister?” Carol asked.
“Uh,” I sputtered out without thinking. I looked to Jimmy. Help?
“I knocked,” Jimmy said. “She didn’t answer.”
I was grateful for his response.
Carol’s face contorted into a harsh smile and then politely bowed her head to my father. “I’ll be right back.” She stood, heading for the hallway.
I hoped Marie wouldn’t make any more trouble. I glanced at the table, laden with mashed potatoes, gravy, roast beef and steamed carrots and peas. They were in fancy serving dishes with gilded edges that I didn’t recognize. There were folded maroon cloth napkins, too. I assumed Carol had brought them with her, as we didn’t have anything like that.
“Not hungry!” Marie’s voice carried through the walls. I reacted, and I sensed Jimmy looking in the same direction: toward the ceiling, as if we could see what was going on upstairs.
Carol spoke, but too low for us to hear. Jimmy motioned to me. Sit before she comes back.
I clenched my teeth. I sat on the opposite side of Carol, and Jimmy sat next to me. I hadn’t realized when I’d sat down that I was closest to my father.
He tilted his head down, gazing only at his plate. His lips were pressed tight. He avoided looking at any of us.
Awkward.
Moments later, Carol appeared, trailed by a hot-faced Marie. Her clothes were wrinkled like she’d been sleeping in them, and her hair was tied sloppily into a ponytail.
Marie went straight for the chair at the end of the table and sat heavily, folding her arms across her stomach.
I couldn’t imagine what Carol must have said to her to convince her to come down. I didn’t think anyone could get Marie to do anything she didn’t want to do.
Carol stopped short of reaching for her chair and waved her finger at us. “No, you’re all in the wrong places. Jimmy, you’re the oldest boy, go where Sang is. Sang, you’re next to me on this side.”
Marie and I shared a look. We had assigned seats now? Jimmy simply bobbed his head, as if unsurprised by this.
I stood up, allowing Jimmy to scoot over. Marie reluctantly moved one over. I sat next to Carol. The seat at the end was empty now. I was facing Marie, and she was glowering at everyone.
I stared at my plate, like my father. Maybe he had the right idea. Keep quiet.
Marie fiddled with a fork. Jimmy kept a small smile on his face and his hands in his lap.
I mimicked him. He’d know how to behave with his mother.
Carol remained standing, serving our father first. She passed bowls of food to Jimmy next.
She had Jimmy and Marie serve each other, directing them on how to do so. For me, she filled my plate, and then served herself. Jimmy waited until she was sitting before he unfolded a napkin, putting it into his lap.
I did the same and then Marie caught on, rolled her eyes and dropped her napkin in her lap.
“Isn’t this nice?” she said with an undertone to suggest she was forcing pleasantness.
My father mumbled something in the affirmative, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.
The way he kept his head down felt like he was afraid. I could only imagine he was afraid Marie or I would say something that contradicted whatever lies, or half-truths, he had shared with Carol. The intense awkwardness of being forced to eat dinner together was like waiting for explosions at any moment.
Could I possibly end all of this now just by speaking the truth? Or would the drama that unfolded be as erratic and unexpected as Carol showing up today?
Did my father have any sort of idea what he was doing? Or was he just waiting for Carol to find out what the truth was, letting the clock tick until a problem arose?
Marie started to eat, spearing a fork at her plate with a loud tap.
“Let’s wait until your father eats first,” Carol said. “Manners dictate that the head of the house eats before anyone else.”
Was that true? Suddenly I was thinking of all the times I had eaten with the guys.
Who was head of the household there? Was I supposed to wait for any of them? She was a normal person, so it had me wondering what normal families did.
My cheeks heated as I wondered about social politeness that I hadn’t taken notice of at all before.
My father made what sounded like a small grunt at being put on the spot, and took a quick bite of meat. Carol then nodded to us and encouraged us to eat from that point.
I poked at the vegetables. They were salted but mostly tasteless. Everything else I ate mindlessly.
The portions she had served me were relatively small, so I didn’t think I’d have trouble finishing.
I followed Jimmy’s example and tried to remember what was polite around a dinner table. Things like no elbows, wiping your mouth, and sitting up without slouching seemed to be all I could remember.
During the meal, the house phone rang. The sound of it shocked me enough that I jolted upright, scooting my chair a bit on the floor.
“We don’t answer the phone during dinner,” Carol said to me.
I didn’t think to answer it, but she didn’t realize how odd even that sound was in this house. Not many called before, maybe telemarketers and such. However, the phone was often left on silent and never answered.
Everyone slowed their eating and listened. Eventually the sound ceased as the call was redirected to voice mail. The phone blinked to indicate it had a message.
I scrunched my eyebrows, glancing over my shoulder at the phone. I was sure the guys were able to intercept the phone calls and wouldn’t let just anyone call at this point. That they’d let one through made me wonder who it could be.
No one asked for seconds, and when everyone was finished, Jimmy asked to be excused.
“Who will help with the dishes?” Carol asked, looking between Marie and myself.
I didn’t really want to, but if I got on her good side, maybe it would make things easier.
If I forced Marie to do everything, she might spill way more information than I wanted. Making her life easier might spare us all.
I swallowed and raised my hand just over the edge of the table.
Carol brightened and seemed to relax. “You don’t have to raise your hand, Sang, but I appreciate you volunteering.”
It was a split second after that I considered I’d be downstairs doing the dishes and that would give Jimmy a chance to search the attic space alone.
I hoped Gabriel was watching. We needed a better way for him to hide up there.
Marie was still chewing her last bite when she stood up. “So I can go back upstairs now?”
“I need to see your room clean tonight before you go to sleep,” Carol said. “It needs to be vacuumed, the ceiling fan dusted, and new sheets put on that bed. Wash them now so they’re dry by the time you want to go to sleep.”
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Marie kept her head down, strands of her long brown hair covering her face. She mumbled something on her way out. Despite her dour attitude and the fact that I had to worry about her betrayal, I was sorry for her and what we were going through.
I needed to talk to her. I needed to know what Carol knew, and hopefully convince Marie not to say too much.
I wished she’d let me help her more. Like me, she’d been through so much. She didn’t deserve much of it. As much as I wanted to dislike her because of how she sometimes treated me, she was still my sister, and it was hard to forget the times when she had tried to help me.
Suddenly I wondered if trying to plan an escape helped her at all. What happened to her if I left at any point?
