“We don’t swear, honey,” Mina says between her sips of wine. “And stop teasing your brother. He’ll be a software engineer soon.”
Billie snorts. “Yeah, a software engineer who failed remedial math- hey!” There’s a bang from under the table. Locke’s face doesn’t give anything away, but Billie scoffs. “Jerk!”
“Young lady.” My father’s voice, booming and stern, calls from the head of the table. She stiffens up immediately, stares back down at her dinner, and mumbles an apology.
Keller waits a second before breaking out into another proud smile. “After Locke graduates, he’ll be working in the family business, like I always wished my son would. Walking in the footsteps I laid out for him.”
Heat reaches the tip of my ears. I want to spend my night literally anywhere else. Even at home alone, drowning in art pieces that aren’t going to see the light of day.
Usually, I would try harder to dodge one of these dinners, especially one meant to praise my father’s golden child. ButKeller put down a lump sum for my own graduate education a few days ago. Knowing my semester of university is settled convinces me to bite my tongue and show face.
These occurrences are happening more often. Keller signing a lease so I can live in one of the nicest apartments in the city, then asking me to show up at a business gala. Or sending a top-of-the-line computer set up to my doorstep, then inviting me to one of their weekend getaways.
All I’ve ever known my father by were the large checks he’d send my mom every month. The only thing I’m familiar with when it comes to him is his money. I don’t feel bad for taking advantage of that. It makes my life easier and gives me the smallest sense of temporary satisfaction.
“Grant.” His tone shifts from sharp to uncomfortably sweet. “Don’t you find it admirable that your brother is going into engineering?”
I slowly chew through what’s in my mouth to hold off on answering.
The answer is no, I don’t find it outstanding that he does whatever Keller wants and gets every opportunity because of it. I don’t have the nerve to say that over the dining table, though.
Instead, I mull over the nicest, most level-headed thing I can come up with.
“Yeah, sure.”
Keller smiles. Thin, barely a pull at his cheeks. I don’t offer him one back, and he lets the topic die.
I mentally will the minutes to pass quicker. It feels like hours before everyone finally finishes their seafood dinner amongst mindless small talk. When I think the end of the night is near, waiters replace our empty dishes with earl grey cake and honeycomb toffee, and I fight back a groan.
Keller flashes a larger grin this time. “It’s been so long since we got together for dinner. I love having all my kids in a room.”He sighs with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “We should do this every week!”
A chill runs up my spine. Occasionally, I can bite my tongue through these sorts of nights. I can keep my mouth shut for a better apartment or for some nice clothes and accessories.
But constantly? On a schedule? Weekly?
Some things money can’t buy.
I bite into the bitter cake and avoid eye contact with everyone.
Someone snaps, someone claps happily, and Mina says, “Great idea, sweetie. Locke will be back in Boston very soon.”
I glance up for a second and catch Locke placing his fork onto his plate. “Next semester, then?”
“Who says we have to wait?” Keller speaks again, and I stare back down at the overly intricate dessert plate. “Don’t you have an internship I set up for you in the city, son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what days of the week does that happen?”
Locke coughs. I force another bite of cake into my mouth.
“Every Thursday. I started today.”
It doesn’t surprise me that Locke is in the exact position he needs to be to make our father happy. He was born into it, after all.
I’m painfully chewing through the last bite—isn’t cake supposed to be sweet, not smoky?—when Keller’s cheery tone cuts through again.
“And you, Billie?”
