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The brothers whoop and laugh, and I shake my head. He has to be voted in and he’s doing nothing that resembles a campaign. I wonder what his plan is.
I don’t know what comes over me, what compels me to ask, but I do. “Can I go?”
It’s like the needle on the record stops. They all stop talking and I feel three sets of eyes on the back of my head. The silence lasts a while and I move around the kitchen, gathering the rest of the supplies so I can make their dinner, all while keeping my eyes averted.
Then James laughs. Long and hard, and eventually, Fallon and Conrad join in. My shoulders slump and tears prick my eyes, even though I knew he would say no. Why wouldn’t he? They don’t like me in private, so why would they pretend we’re one big happy family in public?
I successfully blink back the tears when James says, “The invitation is for family only. You are not my family. You’re lucky to still have a roof over your head and that job at Velli Corp. If you keep pushing my buttons, you’ll have neither. Stop asking dumb fucking questions and appreciate that you have somewhere to stay while I make my senatorial bid.” He dismisses me with a tsk and I nod, even though I don’t think he’s looking at me anymore.
Dinner is ready a few minutes later and I rush out the door, hoping traffic doesn’t hold me up from the high-end boutique they got their suits from. Luck is smiling down on me, because I get there ten minutes before it closes. The manager chides me, telling me I’m cutting it close. I hunch my shoulders and I nod, embarrassment for being chided washing over me..
Handing over James’s ticket, I keep my eyes lowered, hoping to be out of here soon so I can get home and lie down to shake this dark mood.
“Here you are,” the manager says, opening the garment bags for me to see the suits. I’m not sure what I’m looking at, so I nod, hoping that’s sufficient. “You’re all paid up. Do come back, Mr. Cambridge.” I wince, hating that name. I still have my mother’s name, thankful she didn’t ask me to change it after she and James got married. Gathering up the suits, I thank the manager quietly and head for the door.
I’m about to leave the store when I see a suit by the window, with a tag that says, “fifteen percent off, sold as is.” My feet move on their own accord, and I stand before it, lightly brushing my fingers over the lapel.
“Nice cut, right?” I hear behind me, and I jump a foot off the ground, whirling around quickly. A brown skinned man with a low-cut fade and pretty smile holds his hands up. “Sorry, my man. I thought you heard me.”
“It’s okay,” I mumble, taking a step around him to leave the store.
“Hey,” he yells before I can push the door open. He closes the distance between us, looking over my body with a practiced eye. “That suit looks like it would fit you perfectly. With your thin frame and longer legs, I think it would look really good on you. Do you need a suit for any reason?” He steps closer and lowers his voice. “I can get the commission off that if I can get rid of it. We need to make room for new stock.”
Glancing around him, I eye the suit again. It’s a nice, slim fit dark blue jacket with black lapels and black pants to match. There’s a corresponding double-breasted vest that looks like it would be a great addition, even though I’ve never worn a vest and don’t know shit about fashion. It’s a really nice suit, but is it ball worthy?
Wait, why am I thinking about the ball? James already said I couldn’t go. I shouldn’t even have thoughts of the ball in my head, or I’ll hurt my own feelings.
I know I should tell him a suit would be wasted on me, but instead, I nod. The smile spreads across his face and he reaches out to me. I flinch and he immediately drops his hand, but his smile remains. “Great! You got an event coming up? You know, this would be perfect for that function they have coming up at city hall. More and more people are getting away from the penguin suits and wearing bolder colors, even though the black and white is a classic.”
My head whips in his direction. Is this a sign? The city hall event he’s talking about is the ball James is invited to, with his family. “Oh,” is all I say.
The salesman—Kirk is what his nametag says—carefully removes the suit from the mannequin and puts it in a new garment bag. “I’ll throw the bag in for free, since you just got me a good commission. I’ve been trying to get someone to buy this suit for weeks. The guy we fitted for it wanted to go with another color, but only after this one was complete.” He shakes his head in irritation, I believe. I give what I think is an understanding look, but I’m not sure I pull it off. I’m not good at talking to people. The only person I hit it off with immediately was Abel, but he was a ray of sunshine. It was hard not to want to be his friend.
After Kirk has me all set up and I pay, I fly out the door, not wanting James to give me shit about being late with his, Fallon’s, and Conrad’s suits. I put mine in the trunk of my car, hoping to be able to sneak out and get it later tonight.
Before I go inside, I lean back against the seat to take a few deep breaths. I look in the rearview mirror, taking in my features and marveling like I always do about how much I look like my mother. The same brown skin that glows under the right light, same wide, dark brown eyes—though mine are usually hidden behind my glasses—and the same round cheeks. I even have her bow shaped mouth, which is pursed in a frown right now. The only thing different is our hair—my mother kept her curls cut short where I love my long and sometimes unruly tresses. I sigh, turning away from my reflection, not wanting to be reminded of my mother and how much I miss her on days like this.
When I step inside, James is on the phone, but walks over to me and snatches the hangers from my hands. “About time.”
“Traffic,” I whisper. He grunts, buying the lie since rush hour is in full swing. I missed the worst of it and arrived in good time.
“Yeah, whatever. Go clean the kitchen. You know I hate a dirty house.” He turns on his heels and breezes away, shutting himself up in his office.
From the sound of it, no one is in the living room, no sounds coming from the television. Finally alone.
I gather the plates and silverware from the island, as well as bowls from the living room and go to wash everything. James forbade me from using the dishwasher when I was thirteen. He wants everything washed by hand, so I start the dish water and clean the counter while I wait for the sink to fill.
On the counter beside the stove is the ball invitation. I lick my lips nervously and look around, not believing what I’m seeing. The fine print at the bottom says, “must show invite at the door,” but I know James can get another one. The function is being held by his boss, so he doesn’t really need it.
Am I considering taking it? Would he find out? Would he suspect me or think he just misplaced it?
I make a deal with myself. If I’m finished with the dishes and he doesn’t come back for it, I’m taking it as a sign that I’m meant to go to this ball and I’ll take it. If he comes back for it, I’ll just hope there’s an office party at Velli Corp that I can wear the suit to. And not gain weight in the meantime.
I wash dishes as slowly as possible, alternating between talking myself out of and into taking the invitation. I’m not this bold. I don’t do things like buy suits just because I see them and lift invitations because they’re left on the counter. This isn’t me. But dammit, I needsomething. I need to not feel like my life is a trap and all I’m meant for is to stay here with my stepfamily and be miserable.
Not only do I not have the money to leave, but I’m also afraid no one will want me. After years of hearing it from James, Fallon, and Conrad, I don’t think I’m worth it. That’s why they let me go out to clubs to hang with the few friends I have—they know no one will be interested in me. My stepbrothers have their friends watch me to make sure if anyone hits on me, they don’t stay interested.
If I could just pluck up the courage to leave, I wouldn’t look back. But I can’t, no matter how much I want to.
