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“Merlot goes better with roast than beer,” she said dismissively.
I took the offered glass from her; I took a careful sip. Wine was usually hit or miss for me. I wouldn’t be having another glass, but I didn’t turn my nose up to alcohol. I took a generous sip and almost immediately regretted it. Getting drunk with my parents would be a horrible idea.
I put the wineglass on the counter. “Does he come over often?”
“More often than you do,” she said as she put the glass down. She pursed her lips as she looked out into the living room. “He’s been your father’s shadow for a while.” She glanced down at me, her brows furrowing. “But you were never my shadow. If anything, you’ve done the absolute opposite of what I did as a child.” She picked her wine glass back up and gave it a generous sip. “You always found trouble.”
“I never looked for trouble, it just usually found me,” I said, this time not bothering to resist the urge to gulp down half the glass that Mom had given me. “There’s no fun in being grounded or worse.”
“I didn’t ground you just for the sake of grounding you,” she said, watching me gulp down wine. “Slow down before it goes to your head.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured her as I finished the glass. “The benefit of working at a bar is you learn to hold liquor.”
“Oh, don’t tell me that,” she huffed out. “I worried so much that I failed you as a mother. I was just waiting for you to be found on stage at a club.”
“Thanks,” I grumbled. “I really appreciate the blows to my ego.” I sighed, putting the glass on the countertop. “I considered it. They make good money in tips. But I don’t have the rhythm for it.” Plus, Shay wouldn’t have let me. There wasn’t much she would rat me out to my mother about, but if I had gone the stripper route, that would’ve been it.
“Most of those girls get caught up in drugs,” Mom said as she gave me serious attention. “You aren’t on drugs, are you?”
I patted a hand on my stomach. “Nope. Though if it would help me lose a few pounds, I might consider it.”
“Grace Marie Blake,” Mom barked out. “That is not an appropriate joke.”
“It was just a joke,” I assured her. That was a reminder of why I didn’t visit often. How often could I get away with visits? Hopefully, I could get away with just once a month. “I don’t have that disposable of an income.”
“You’re not appealing to me to twist your father’s arm into giving you a raise,” she said with a sigh.
“She hasn’t worked there long enough for a raise,” Kyle spoke up. He had the rest of the six-pack in hand. “That’s something she has to earn, Mom. She lives with Shay. It’s not like she’s pressed for money.” He looked down his nose at me. “And if it gets that bad, she can just move back in.”
“I’ve offered it to her,” she said to him with a sigh, appealing to the son because I didn’t give her what she wanted. “But she acts like I was going to send her to her room without dinner.”
“Brats are like that,” my brother said, giving me a frown. “There’s no pleasing them.” He went to the fridge and deposited the beer into it. “Nothing is ever good enough for her.”
“Are we describing me or you?” I asked. “Because it seems like that’s a description for you. I mean,” I paused and gestured to the kitchen we grew up in, “you were given everything. Being popular in school, your first car, your first job. There wasn’t anything that you weren’t given.” I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t have that same story here.”
“No, but the school you went to was expensive and prestigious. If you had gone to college, it would have looked great on your application,” Mom protested. “It was an all-girls school, otherwise I would have sent your brother to it too.” She turned to look at Kyle. “It would have benefited you and the car lot if you had gotten at least a business degree.”
“I learn better hands-on,” he said, grimacing. “If Dad decides he wants me to get a degree before he retires, I’ll look into it. But so far, I’ve managed just fine without it.”
“Running a business is more than just selling things,” Mom said pointedly. “You have to manage employees, keep track of the books, and there is so much room for error.”
“He seems to manage it just fine,” I assured her. I didn’t enjoy being the target of her judgment. The best thing I could think to do was distracting her. “He’s been an asshole of a boss, but it seems like he knows what he’s doing.”
“What’s for dinner?” Kyle asked, before Mom could keep going. “It smells delicious.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding startled. She turned to the oven and got her oven mitts. “It needed an hour when Grace got here, but I could start carving it now.” She looked at me. “Set the table for me.”
I went for plates, not questioning the choice.
“Are we eating at the table?” Dad asked from the living room. “I thought you were going to let me watch the game tonight.”
“I have both of my children here for once,” Mom snapped. “Let’s eat at the table.”
Kyle huffed, but after a beat he came to help me set the table. Whatever made this go by more quickly was fine by me. We exchanged awkward looks but didn’t say anything. Our parents went back and forth for a moment before it was decided that Dad would eat in front of the TV.
Kyle was given the option to eat in front of the TV. I wasn’t. I wasn’t going to let it bother me, even as Mom dished a healthy serving of roast with potatoes and carrots. It felt awkward with just the two of us at the table. Mom didn’t hold a conversation, she just spent the entire time harping on about how much of an injustice it was that all of us weren’t at the table.
“There’s always next time,” I offered gently.
