“I’ve been offered a job, in LA. I’m taking it, and the firm covers relocation costs.” I say this quickly, meeting my father’s eyes.
My mother drops her spoon in her soup. Zev stays silent.
My father simply scoops up a spoonful of soup, bringing it to his lips. “A job? I hadn’t realized you were looking for one.”
“I wasn’t, I saw an ad, and as they say, the rest is history. It’s a really great PR firm.”
My father nods, but his eyes don’t meet my gaze.
“That’s wonderful news, then.” He raises his wine glass, tipping it toward me.
“Eliana, whatever do you mean? You’re going to work with your father,” my mother snaps. Her face is a shade of red I haven’t quite seen before.
“No, mother, that is what you and Father want. I never said that was what I wanted to do,” I counter.
“That is absurd. Tell her, Diego. Your company is hers,” she argues.
“That company is Zev’s just as much as it’s mine,” I spit.
My mother gasps. “Why you-”
“Eliana! Serafina!” my father’s voice booms.
Zev looks at me over his soup bowl which he’s quietly sipping from. Something he should not be doing at this table.
“Are you saying that you don’t want to work for Hernandez Corp?” my mother questions despite being reprimanded.
My father looks over at me. His gaze is steely.
“No,” I answer, sitting straighter in my chair.
“But, Diego-” my mother starts.
“Silence.” my father growls. My mother flinches. Zev and I look at each other.
“I am not asking, Father. I am merely informing you so you can make the necessary arrangements. Maybe get Zev to help out for a while before he heads off to college or get someone else on board until Zev gets his degree,” I suggest without any fear or intimidation, confident in my plans. “I’ll be moving to LA at the end of the month.”
My father looks at me, nods, and continues eating. It disturbs me that he seems unperturbed. Mother, on the other hand, stares daggers at me throughout dinner. I ignore her, the way I usually do, but I know this isn’t over. She is not done. In her eyes, this is the height of betrayal.
After dinner, Zev corners me. “You’re quite the rebel, huh?”
“I just want my own life, Zev. You’re the one that wants all this bullshit. I don’t.”
He shakes his head. “Just be careful, Ella, the Hernandez name isn’t something we can run away from. And besides, Daddy dearest was a bit too accepting of it.”
“I know, that freaked me out too. But I am not letting them stop me from following my dreams.”
“You’re a spitfire, Ella. Come here.” I wrap my arms around my brother, snuggling close to his chest.
“Are you gonna be okay?” I whisper into his chest.
“Of course, I will. You’ve always tried to save me, since we were kids, but maybe it’s time I return the favor. I’ll stay here and keep an eye out.” He kisses my forehead, and we say goodnight.
I watch him walk away, slightly swaying from all the wine he had. I smile, grateful I stuck to just one glass, not wanting to distort my view on anything.
I remember the day they brought Zev home, he was three years old, terrified at being in a new place. My father gave no explanation, he simply commanded that we welcome Zev into the family. I was five and felt an immediate need to protect the boy my father introduced as my brother. When my mother didn’t step forward, I did, taking the little boy’s hand and leading him into the kitchen. I heard the shouting behind us but ignored it. Zev tried to look back, but I tugged him along with me.
“Let’s go get cake,” I’d told him, and his eyes had lit up, momentarily distracted.
