“You came home almost three years ago for a wedding, spent the entire time with your friends, and then left again. You barely saw us at all.” And then, in a snap, I added, “Why don’t you just make it four years?”
In my mind’s eye, I could see Destelle’s face screw up, her voice coming out the way it always did when she got mad. “Jeez, is this one of those teenage rebellion things?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and pressed theEndbutton, hanging up.
The kitchen was deadly silent. I barely noticed it over the roar of blood rushing in my head, and the letters tapdancing to the beat.S-E-L-F-I-S-H.
Jamie gaped at me with saucer-wide eyes, taking the phone back mutely. I didn’t look at him long, not wanting to read whatever question marks were in his expression. He’d ask me where that came from, and honestly, I wasn’t even sure myself. The thought of Destelle just grated my skin.
“What makes you think you can talk to your sister like that?”
I’d gotten so used to not expecting Dad around that, in the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten him. I stilled at his low tone, lifting my head to stare at him. He wasn’t looking at me, though, focused on the plate of egg wash that his piece of bread was sitting in.
“You don’t speak to your sister like that.” Dad slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting mine. “And you don’t hang up on her mid-conversation. Call her back and apologize.”
I couldn’t remember the last time Dad had given an order in any sort of parent capacity. It’d always been Mom checking in for phone curfews, scolding for a low grade. And Dad’s first command in months was ordering me to apologize to his golden child. My head buzzed as if filled with bees. There were no words anymore, just letters in all caps.
I was perfect. The perfect student, the perfect daughter, the perfect friend. I should’ve complied. I should’ve jumped to obey. “You don’t even know what she said.”
“It doesn’t matter what she said. I heard whatyousaid.”
Of course it didn’t matter. In Dad’s eyes, Destelle could do no wrong. Her, the daughter who opposed him at every turn. Me, the daughter who bent over backward to catch even a second of his attention. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business if you don’t know the full conversation.” As soon as the words were out, I wished I could pull them back in.
Jamie sucked in a breath. “Nell.”
“Eleanor Brighton.” A light seemed to flicker on in Dad’s eyes, waking up the dormant side of him. “Give me your phone. If you’re not going to call her and apologize—and if you’re going to speak to me that way—you don’t deserve to have it.”
My free hand clenched into a fist so tight I could feel my nails dig into my palm. “You always take her side,” I said in a low voice, feeling my brow crumple. “Whatever Destelle says or does is okay.”
“We’re not talking about Destelle?—”
“Yes, we are!” My throat ached, voice cracking as I tried to keep from shouting. “We are, because she gets to go off with her boyfriend and travel the country being his roadie, and you’re proud of her. After busting my butt all of high school to get good grades, I got into Mullhound with a full ride, and I get calledsilly. You wanted this dream for Destelle, but since it’s me, you call memisguided.”
“Because it’s notyour dream!” Dad slapped his palm flat down on the counter, the noise like a pop. “That’swhy it’s silly—because you’re dedicating your whole life to a future that’s not even yours.”
“How would you know?” My eyes began burning, and that only made me angrier. I wasn’t sad—the tears in my eyes were embarrassing and a lie. “How would you know what I want? You’ve never asked.”
“Let’s—let’s take a break til Mom gets home.” Jamie took a step forward, his voice pitching higher. “Let’s?—”
“We’re not talking about that, Eleanor.” That furious light flickered in Dad’s eyes, as if it was on its way to dim once more. “We’re talking about your disrespectful tone. Your mother and I have let it go on too long, letting everyone at the club talk you onto a pedestal. I didn’t realize how inflated your ego has gotten.”
“My ego?” I whispered, throat vibrating with the words. “What would you know aboutmy ego?”
“I know you lied about what happened to you four years ago to feed it,” Dad said, disappointment making his own voice thick. It covered me like mud, like slime, smearing my vision further. “Is it true? That you were the one who destroyed the serenity garden?”
The air died in my lungs.I know you’re the one who lit the garden on fire, Lydia had said on the porch.Beck told me that it was you. And then I’d turned around to find Dad standing on the stairs behind me.
“Dad,” Jamie tried again, stepping toward him. “Please. Let’s just?—”
“And you blamed Beck for it? All this time, youcontinuedto let him take the blame for it. You’re more concerned with what people will think of you than withtelling the truth. Here I thought we raised someone with integrity.”
A hot tear fell from my eye, leaving a trail of fire down my cheek. His words were superior and without mercy, and I thought of him standing behind me as I talked to Lydia, standing above Jamie and I when we talked the other day, eavesdropping both times.
My daughter,he must’ve thought.Embarrassing.
D-I-S-R-E-S-P-E-C-T-F-U-L.
S-I-L-L-Y.
