Page 21 of After You Returned

Ian and Thomas rush into the kitchen but screech to a halt when they notice Weston helping Scarlett with the potatoes.

“What are you doing up here helping?” Ian asks.

“You were supposed to bring us beers,” Thomas adds.

Weston motions to the refrigerator. “Help yourself.”

“Or do you need me to show you how to open the door?”

Thomas scowls at me. “Don’t be a brat.”

I bat my eyelashes. “I’m the brat? I’m not the one who was lazing on a chair watching television while the rest of his family works in the kitchen.”

He shrugs. “Dad and Ian aren’t helping either.”

“Not helping your case,” Weston mutters.

“Let it go,” Mom insists.

“Why should I? Do you realize what century we live in? It’s ridiculous to expect women to do all the cooking and cleaning while the men sit around watching television and farting and scratching their balls.”

She gasps. “Hazel Edith!”

“Someone got the middle name treatment,” Ian sings.

Guess what? I get the middle name treatment a lot. When I was younger, I tried to keep my middle name a secret. Who wants to be called Edith these days? But it was impossible considering Mom’s tendency to give me the middle name treatment.

Dad strolls into the kitchen. “I hear complaining. Hazel must be here.”

“I wasn’t complaining. I was pointing out the inequality of gender roles during Sunday family meals.”

Thomas groans. “Here we go again. Does the feminist need her soapbox?”

“What I need is to get out of this kitchen.”

Ian sighs. “I don’t know why you’re bitching. It’s not as if you’re never in the kitchen. Especially since you’re still working atSmuggler’s Cove Restaurant.”

Dad grunts. “No daughter of mine should be working at a restaurant.”

I throw my arms in the air. “Where else am I going to work? There aren’t enough people on this island for me to work full-time as a therapist.”

“I told you the physical therapy degree was a waste of time.”

Scarlett squeezes my hand but I shake her off. We are not the same. While I stayed on the island and pushed back against our parents, Scarlett escaped for a decade. She nearly didn’t stay, even after she fell in love with Weston. Dad has no idea how hard he is on us girls.

“Disagree. What I do helps people. For example, I helped Caleb learn to walk again without a limp.”

Dad scowls. “You said it yourself. You don’t have enough therapy work.”

“First of all, thank you for acknowledging what an awesome job I did with Caleb. I’m pretty proud of it.”

Mom clears her throat. “Hazel.”

“What? Am I not allowed to be proud of my work?” I ask even though I know exactly why she’s scolding me.

I’m not allowed to toot my own horn. And I’m definitely not allowed to sass Dad. Two things I do often. And well if I do say so myself. And there I go tooting my own horn again. I guess it’s a habit.

“You should find a good man to marry.”