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I lowered myself down onto the over-sized chair and waited. My father stood there holding a piece of paper as my mother let out another sob.
“Do you mind telling me—” I started.
“Do I mind telling you what? How you stole the money I gave you to pay for two years’ tuition, for two separate programs to find out that you only paid for one?”
I froze. I’d told the school I’d pay them when I returned. I had no clue how my father had found out. “I uh, I don’t know what you are talking about?” I lied.
“Do you not think that the school was going to come to me for the remainder of your tuition?” He waved the letter he held in his hand in the air.
I didn’t know what to say as I stared at the piece of paper.
“Well?” my father barked as my mom continued to cry.
“I just…”
“You just figured you would get more money. Isn’t that right. I hold an endless supply don’t I.”
The air grew thick, and it was hard for me to swallow. I hated listening to my mother cry, and even more I hated my father when he was angry.
“Where did we go wrong, son?”
“You didn’t,” I bit out, feeling sick to my stomach as my mother sobbed.
“Well, I must have. Never in my life did I figure I couldn’t trust you with money. I guess I should have treated you like the child you are and just paid for the tuition myself,” Dad bit out.
“Dad I—”
“You know, I’ve never understood why you can’t be more like your brother,” Dad said. “He’s never once came to me for money. Never once. He paid for his own schooling, then went off and staked his own claim.”
“I’m not my brother!” I yelled.
“Damn right you’re not. You’ll have to come up with your tuition for this year. We can’t do it,” Dad said, dropping the letter to the floor as he made his way over to my mother, who sat there, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed into her hands. He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort her.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” I cried. “Please, let me explain.”
Just then Zach stepped into the sitting room. He was the last person I wanted to see—their perfect son. He bent down and picked up the letter my father had dropped and read it over, his eyes meeting mine. He had known that Dad had paid the entire two years’ tuition upfront because I’d told him.
“What have you done now?” he asked, looking at our parents and then to me. No doubt he already knew about their financial situation.
“Well, I’m not you, that’s what I’ve done,” I bit out.
Zach shook his head, then looked down to the letter he held and back to me. “It’s time you grow the hell up, Tristan. That’s all I’ve got to say. Now I think it’s time you leave the room,” he said, looking to our parents.
I didn’t wait. Instead, I stormed out of the room and stopped in the hallway, anger coursing through me as I listened to my brother talk to my parents, offering them help if they needed. He always was the perfect son, and in their eyes could do no wrong. I’d always been the fuckup. I couldn’t stand there and listen to them talk anymore. Instead, I ran up the stairs to my bedroom. I flopped down on the bed and placed my arms behind my head and stared up at the ceiling.
* * *
I blinked hard. Tears had blurred my eyes at the memory of that summer, and I stood there quietly, not sure I wanted to tell Brooke what had happened. I placed the grated cheese on the bread and then placed them onto a baking screen, switching the oven to broil.
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“Well, my parents, they lost everything that summer. I just couldn't afford to come back to school. I had to take care of them and make sure that they were okay.”
“Oh…”
“Besides, after seeing how much work goes into a small bakery and diner, I’m not really sure I would have lasted in some major restaurant, to be honest. I started work atFestive Treasuresshortly after that summer. I started as a food critic writing a small column under a pseudonym, and just went from there.”
“You would have lasted,” she answered. “You’d have put your mind to it, put your soul into it, you would have been fine.”
