“Giselle!”Ma threw down her broom and marched over to us.
I looked down in horror at the toppled end table and the shattered vase on the floor.Christabella was wailing, clutching her bleeding finger.
“Mama, it huuuuurts,” she sobbed.
“I-I’m sorry Chrissy, I didn’t mean to,” I said.I looked down at my skirt.The side seam gaped open, the stitches already coming undone from catching on the end table.
Ma took Christabella in her arms and rubbed her back.“Hush now, it’ll be fine.”
I looked on with a twinge of envy as Ma held Christabella.Pa startled awake, reaching for his spectacles.
“What’s going on?”he asked.
“Your daughter made a mess, that’s what,” Ma said, shooting me a piercing look.Her eyes flicked to the hole in my skirt.“What’s that?What are you wearing?”
I looked to Christabella, but she was still sobbing passionately and couldn’t come to my aid.“I...I made it,” I said quietly, already feeling hot tears sting the back of my eyes.
Ma stood, the bodice of her dress stained with Christabella’s tears and other fluids.My sister toddled over to Pa, who gave her a comforting pat on the head.
“Is that your bed sheet?”Ma grabbed the fabric of my dress.
“Wait!”I stumbled forward, but the damage was done.The seam unraveled, the edges fraying.
“How can you destroy perfectly good things like this?”Ma demanded, her face going red.“Do you think we have an infinite amount of resources, like those humans aboveground?”
“It was already wearing down—”
“I cannot believe you would do something sofoolish,” Ma said.
Grandma entered from the kitchen, a mug of tea in her hands.“Now what is this, Nasha?”she asked, setting the mug on the table beside Pa.
“Giselle destroyed a perfectly good bedsheet,” Ma said, shaking her fistful of my dress.“Explain yourself, young lady.”
I began to cry.Explaining was pointless—Ma never listened to what I had to say.
She shook her head in disgust.It seemed she was always looking at me in that way, whether I behaved or not.
That was the day I figured Ma hated me.
“Let it go, Nasha.”Grandma crossed the room and took my hand, her skin warm and papery around mine.“We have plenty of bedsheets.I’ll give her one of mine.”
“Plenty?”Ma said, incredulous.“You’re always saying that we have nothing to waste!You spoil her, Mother.This is why she’s acting this way.”
Grandma merely shook her head and led me up the stairs to her room.
“Come, Gigi,” Grandma said gently, wiping my face.“Let me show you how to sew a seam properly.”
