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She laughs louder. “You better watch your tone, or you won’t get any at all. Will he, Dad?” A smug-ass smile spreads across her face, not even looking in his direction. She’s so sure of our dad’s reaction.
He licks his finger as he piles meat and veggies onto his plate. “Jace, listen to your sister.” Every time!
If the word triumphant had a picture next to it in the dictionary, it would be Jasmine’s face at this moment. Playfully elbowing her, I give her this minor victory.
Dinner together is just what we needed. Tonight feels normal in our not-so-normal life. Margret is in her room, hopefully out for the rest of the night, leaving us to laugh and enjoy each other’s company, like a family. Margret’s actions today were evidence enough that she’s getting worse. I’m afraid of what she’ll escalate to next.
Jasmine finishes first, barely touching her food, indicating she isn’t as over what happened as much as she’d like to pretend. She clears her dish and a couple others to the kitchen, giving me a chance to speak freely.
My dad wipes his mouth and moves to stand. “Thank you for dinner, honey,” he hollers as he tosses the napkin down. “Night, son.”
“We need to talk.” My voice is harsh.
“All right.” His confusion only amps up my anger.
As we enter his room, I close the door behind us, not wanting Jasmine to overhear our conversation. As far as she knows, my dad has no idea what’s going on.
“What’s this about?” he asks.
“Seriously? Did you not notice Jasmine’s shirt?” I wait, already knowing the answer. “Margret went into her room and cut up all her clothes. She didn’t have a shirt to wear to dinner that wasn’t covered in holes.” I glare at him, my chest burning with rage. “She yelled and called her vulgar names in front of Marisol.” The thought of someone treating her with such malice tears at me.
He runs his fingers through his hair, cussing. “When did all this happen?” His eyes are remorseful, igniting another flame.
“It happens all the time! You just don’t want to see it. Margaret has to go. You two are already sleeping in separate rooms, which makes me think your marriage is over. Jasmine doesn’t deserve this shit. You need to step up, Dad.” She needs his love and protection desperately.
He levels me with a stare I’ve never seen from him before saying, “I’m working on it, son, I swear.” Pleading for my understanding.
“All right,” I say, nodding. “You promise?”
He squeezes my shoulder tightly. “There’re a lot of things that need moved around before I can start anything legal; to protect you and Jaz’s future. Once those last pieces are in place, it’ll change.”
“Not good enough.”
“I know it’s not. That’s why she has you. Be sure to keep a close eye on her until then. A couple of weeks is all it should take. I promise. I’ll make it up to you both.”
Nodding, I back down. If my dad swears to me, he’ll take care of it, he will. He may not be around much, but he loves us. A distinct part of me resents him for being away and making us deal with what Margret has turned herself into, but I love him and want him to step up not just for her but for the both of us.
I leave him to think about our discussion and head back to the kitchen, where Jasmine’s clanging dishes around in the sink. “Hey, need some help?” I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I pick up the towel and dry.
She glances at me and smiles; leaning over and putting her head on my shoulder, something she’s done since we were kids. “Thank you,” she whispers, for more than just helping with the dishes.
