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“Jenna, enough!” my mom yells, throwing her dishcloth on the counter. “If you are going to keep nagging me about this, you can go to your room!”
“But—”
“Not one more word!” My mom points to the hall. “Go to your room!”
Jenna shoves up from the table and storms off. “I hate this family!”
My mom closes her eyes and takes some deep breaths. I glance at Nova. She’s staring at my mom, her fork frozen over her plate like she’s afraid to make a sound.
“I’m sorry about that,” my mom says, picking up the dishcloth and continuing to clean. “She’s been testing my patience and I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Mom, it’s okay,” I say. “She drives all of us crazy. It’s just her age.”
“It’s more than that,” my mom says, shaking her head. “We’ve spoiled her to the point that she doesn’t even consider other people or how their lives are compared to hers. She has no idea how lucky she is and I’m afraid she never will.” She drops her dishcloth in the sink and goes to the laundry room.
“How’s your breakfast?” I ask Nova, trying to lighten the mood.
“It’s good. I’m not hungry, but I should try to eat more in case…” She doesn’t say it, but I know what she’s thinking. She’s afraid she’ll soon be back to being hungry all the time. I won’t let that happen, and I told her that, but she doesn’t believe me.
I hear the front door open. “Did my mom just leave?”
“I thought she was in the laundry room.”
“I did too.”
“Anyone home?” I hear my dad yell.
“Fuck! My dad’s here!”
“What do we do?” Nova drops her fork on her plate, looking around like she wants to hide but doesn’t know where to go. She’s panicking. I am too. I can’t have my dad walk in here and see Nova.
“Be there in a minute!” my mom yells as she runs out of the laundry room. She races through the kitchen to the hallway that goes to the front door. “Honey, what are you doing home so early?”
“I took an earlier flight.”
“Should we leave?” Nova whispers.
“No. Wait here.”
“Daddy!” Jenna yells. I hear her running down the stairs. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too, honey.”
“Jenna, go to your room,” my mom says. “I need to speak with your father.”
“But I want to talk to him. He’s been gone all week. Daddy, can I get a manicure?”
“Sure, honey.”
“Stephen, don’t give her money. I already told her no.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed at how Jenna plays them against each other.
“Did I miss breakfast?” he asks.
“No, but I need to talk to you first,” my mom says.
“We can talk while I eat. I’m starving. I didn’t have a chance to eat before I left for the airport and you know how I refuse to eat the food on the plane.”
