Chapter 2: The Dinner Nobody Wanted
My father found me in the guest room twenty minutes later.
He stood in the doorway with his work jacket still on, his tie loosened, and a tired smile that disappeared as soon as he saw the cardboard boxes stacked beside my bed.
“Emily?””
I looked up from the box of photographs.
“Hey, Dad.””
He glanced around the room.
“Why are you down here?””
I almost laughed.
“You tell me.””
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could smell the coffee on his breath and the faint scent of the cedar soap he had used for as long as I could remember.
Then he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Laura told me there was a disagreement.””
“A disagreement?””
“She said you were upset about Madison moving into your room.””
I stared at him.
“She didn't mention that my things were thrown into boxes? Or that she plans to dispose of whatever I don't collect within thirty days?””
His expression changed.
“Dispose of your things?””
I reached for the inventory sheet, which I had retrieved from Laura's pocket after she left it on the kitchen counter.
Dad read it.
His jaw tightened.
“I didn't know about this.””
“But you knew about the room.””
He lowered the paper.
“Yes.””
The single word hurt more than I expected.
I folded my arms.
“Why?””
Dad pulled out the chair beside the desk, then seemed to think better of sitting down.
“Madison has been struggling with her space. Laura thought it would help if she had the bigger bedroom. You were away, and we assumed you wouldn't mind switching to the guest room when you came back.””
“You assumed?””
“You're twenty-two, Emily. You're building your own life.””
“So that means I don't get to come home anymore?””
“That's not what I said.””
“You didn't have to.””
He looked toward the boxes.
“Your stepmother made it sound reasonable. Madison is finishing high school, and she needs somewhere to study. The guest room is perfectly usable.””
“Then why didn't Madison get the guest room?””
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I pressed my fingers against the edge of the desk.
“Dad, I had that room since I was ten. Mom painted the walls with me. She helped me choose the curtains. Her things were in there.””
His eyes softened at the mention of my mother.
“I know, sweetheart.””
“Then why did you let them do this?””
He sat down at last, elbows resting on his knees.
“Because I thought it was a small change. I didn't realize how much it would hurt you.””
I looked at him, searching his face for the man who used to promise that nobody would ever make me feel alone again.
“Did you ask me?””
“No.””
“Did you tell Laura she could move my things?””
“I agreed to the room change. I didn't approve of throwing anything away.””
“But you agreed to the room change.””
He looked down at his hands.
“Yes.””
A bitter silence settled between us.
I wanted him to say he had made a mistake. I wanted him to tell me that Laura had pressured him and he hadn't thought things through.
Instead, he said, “Can we please have dinner before this gets any worse?””
I stared at him.
“Dinner?””
“Your stepmother cooked. Let's sit down and talk like a family.””
I almost refused.
But a small, foolish part of me still wanted to believe that we could sit at the same table and find a way back to normal.
So I followed him upstairs.
The dining room was set with four plates, candles, and a bowl of roasted potatoes. Laura had changed into a cream blouse and gold earrings. Madison sat beside her, scrolling through her phone.
When Dad entered, Laura immediately stood.
“Daniel, thank goodness. I've been trying to explain to Emily that nobody meant to upset her.””
She kissed his cheek, then placed a serving spoon in his hand.
“Let's not ruin our first family dinner in weeks.””
I sat opposite Madison.
She glanced at me and pushed a plate of vegetables in my direction.
“Here. You look like you need some vitamins.””
“Madison,” Dad warned.
“What? I'm being nice.””
Laura set a glass of water in front of me.
“Your father and I discussed the room situation. We think everyone needs to compromise.””
I waited.
She continued, “Madison keeps the upstairs bedroom, and you use the guest room. In exchange, we'll make sure the guest room is comfortable.””
I looked at the narrow hallway visible beyond the dining room.
“That's not a compromise. That's a decision you've already made.””
Laura's smile tightened.
“Emily, you're old enough to understand that families have to adapt.””
“Then why does only one person have to adapt?””
Madison put down her fork.
“Because you don't even live here full-time anymore!””
“I've been away for three weeks.””
“And you're going back to work soon, aren't you?””
I didn't answer.
Dad looked at me.
“Emily, is there something about the internship you haven't told us?””
I hesitated.
“I was going to tell you tonight. They offered me a permanent position.””
His face brightened.
“They did?””
“Yes. In Chicago. It's a good opportunity.””
For one wonderful second, I saw pride in his eyes.
Then Laura spoke.
“Well, that makes everything easier.””
I turned toward her.
“What does that mean?””
“If you're moving to Chicago permanently, there's no reason to fight over a bedroom. Madison can settle in, and you can focus on your new life.””
I put down my fork.
“That's not the point.””
“Then what is the point?”” Laura asked.
“You can't expect the house to remain frozen in time forever.””
“No. But I expected you to ask before giving away my room.””
She sighed dramatically and turned to Dad.
“See? This is what I've been dealing with. Every little change becomes a personal attack.””
Dad set his glass down.
“Laura, please.””
“No, Daniel. I'm tired of walking on eggshells. Madison has spent years feeling like a guest in this house because Emily's things are everywhere.
Her photographs, her decorations, her memories. Everything has to revolve around what Emily wants.””
My fingers tightened around my napkin.
“Madison has never been treated like a guest.””
“She has had to share a house with the memory of your first wife.””
The room went still.
Dad's chair scraped backward.
“Laura, that's enough.””
But Laura had already gone too far.
“What? It's true. Every hallway has a picture of Sarah.
Every holiday has to include one of her traditions. I can't even redecorate a bedroom without being reminded that I came second.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
My mother had been dead for ten years.
Laura had married Dad six years earlier. I had welcomed her into our lives. I had tried to build a relationship with Madison. I had even helped Laura choose the flowers for their wedding.
And now she was telling me that my mother's existence had been an inconvenience.
I stood up.
“I didn't ask you to replace my mother.””
Laura's eyes flashed.
“And I didn't ask to spend the rest of my life competing with a dead woman.””
Dad slammed his hand against the table.
“Laura!””
Madison stopped scrolling.
I couldn't look at any of them.
I walked out of the dining room and returned to the guest bedroom, closing the door behind me.
A few minutes later, someone knocked.
“Emily, it's me,” Dad said.
I opened the door.
He looked older than he had that morning.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“She shouldn't have said that.””
“But she did.””
“I'll talk to her.””
I shook my head.
“That's what you always say when she hurts me.””
He looked stricken.
I continued, my voice shaking despite my effort to control it.
“You tell me you'll talk to her. You tell me she didn't mean it. You tell me things will be different. But then she makes another decision, and somehow I'm the one who has to understand.””
Dad stared at the floor.
“I never wanted you to feel that way.””
“Then stop making me prove that I belong here.””
He reached for my hand, but I stepped back.
His phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and frowned.
“It's the bank. I need to take this.””
I nodded, feeling foolish for expecting anything more.
He walked into the hallway, answering quietly.
I was about to close the door when I heard him say something that made me stop.
“No, that can't be right. I never authorized that transfer.””
A pause.
Then, more urgently, “How much money are we talking about?””
My father turned away from me.
I could only hear fragments.
“Fourteen thousand dollars?””
Another pause.
“Send me the records. Please don't freeze anything until I understand what's happened.””
He ended the call and stood motionless in the hallway.
“Dad?”” I asked.
He turned toward me.
His face had gone pale.
“Emily, have you used the money in your college savings account recently?””
I frowned.
“No. Why?””
He swallowed.
“Because someone withdrew fourteen thousand dollars from the account I set up for you.””
My heart began to pound.
“That account was supposed to be for my future.””
“I know.””
“Who took it?””
Dad looked toward the dining room, where Laura and Madison were speaking in low voices.
“I don't know yet.””
But the way he said it made me wonder whether he already suspected the truth.
Then his phone buzzed again.
A bank notification appeared on the screen.
May you like
Dad read it, and his hand began to tremble.
“Emily,” he whispered, “I think you need to see this.””
