Dana and Peter Wright arrived home a little before lunch, intent on teaching their youngest child a valuable lesson. The expression they wore had often been pointed at Ami and Leo, but rarely at Elissa. Today looked like a rare day.
“What happened?” Mom asked. “Why weren’t you here?”
“I met a friend after work. Leo’s seventeen, old enough to manage his own treatment.”
“But he wasn’t. How did you let this happen in only four days? I’d expect this of Ami, but you, Elissa, you’re better than this.”
“It’s not her fault!” Leo said from his perch on the barstool.
“Leo, honey…” It was never good when their mom used “honey.”
“You need to take your meds,” her father said. “And last night is a perfect example of why. If you don’t take your long-term medications, you will have attacks.”
Her brother’s face shut down. He’d already tuned them out, and their parents might as well be talking to a wall. Elissa intervened, though her gut roiled at standing up to her parents.
“He knows all this. Telling him again won’t motivate him to take his meds.”
She instantly regretted it. Her mother’s laser gaze focused right on her, her color high. The fear she must’ve been marinating in all morning came pouring out in anger.
“You were supposed to look out for him,” she said.
Leo stood and moved between the two women. “They’re my meds. I chose not to take them. Elissa couldn’t make me. You can’t make me. I hate how you watch me take them each night, like I can’t be trusted.”
“Well, obviously…” their dad said.
Like prairie dogs following a potential predator, three heads turned toward him, irritation plain on three faces. Peter held up his hands and backed away.
“I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t take the medications for a bit. I’ve been so much better, maybe I could go without. I was wrong, but Elissa was there to bail me out.”
Weird having Leo defend her. But she appreciated it, more than she’d ever tell him. She rarely defended herself.
“She shouldn’t have to,” Mom said. “That’s the point. You have to take your medications, and if you won’t do it on your own, I’ll be there to observe.”
“Mom—” Elissa tried to intercede for her brother. This wouldn’t end well.
“Enough, Elissa. This is between us and your brother. Why don’t you go to work? Thank your boss for us, please.”
Leo’s blue eyes pleaded for her to stay.
“I’ll go, but go easy on the dingus, okay? He’s a teenager and they’re supposed to push boundaries.”
“We don’t need you to tell us how to raise a teenager. This isn’t our first rodeo!”
“Dana,” her dad said. “She’s not wrong. Elissa was the easy one, but this is how normal teenagers act. Leo has learned an important lesson, and we’ll talk to him, but calmly.”
“But—”
“You’re scared and it’s coming out as anger, love. Take a breath, and we’ll sort this out.”
Her mom looked like she’d argue for a moment, but she stalked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of water.
“I think we’re good, Lissa. Thank you. You did well.” Her dad hugged her.
“Yeah, thanks. But did you have to call me a dingus?” Leo said, but he let her hug him.
“Yes, because you were. I still love you.” And she planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Ugh, sister germs!” He made a show of wiping off his cheek as she grabbed her purse.
