Chapter 1 - THE WORD THAT ENDED DINNER
“Your brother is coming with his two kids, so you need to leave, you parasite.”
My mother said it while passing me the potatoes.
That was the part I would remember later.
Not the insult.
The way she expected me to take the bowl afterward.
“You’re joking, right?”
She laughed.
“No, Naomi.
I’m serious.”
Across the table, my father cut another piece of pot roast.
His knife scraped the plate.
He did not look up.
I was thirty-three years old.
I had moved back to Oak Ridge three years earlier after Dad’s surgery, planning to stay six months.
Six months had become a furnace.
Then overdue property taxes.
Then a leaking roof.
Then a kitchen full of appliances that apparently belonged to everyone except the person paying for them.
“Derek needs a fresh start,” Mom said.
“His situation in Seattle has become impossible.”
“We have a guest room.”
“The kids need that room.”
“The office, then.”
“No.”
She placed her fork beside her plate, lining it up neatly.
“He needs to feel like the head of a household again.”
I looked at my father.
“Dad?”
He took a drink of water.
“Your mother has thought this through.”
Something tightened beneath my ribs.
“I paid four thousand dollars for the furnace.
I covered the taxes when you got the final notice.
I’ve been paying for repairs and groceries and—”
“And you’ve been living here.”
“I also paid the monthly amount we agreed on.”
Mom leaned back.
“Listen to yourself.
Keeping score against your own parents.”
“You brought up what I cost you.”
“You always make everything difficult.”
The kitchen clock clicked.
A cabinet door I had repaired hung straight behind her.
“I used my savings so you wouldn’t lose this house.”
Her expression did not change.
“Parasite.”
Dad reached for the salt.
I waited for him to say something.
Anything.
He seasoned his potatoes.
I stood.
Mom watched me take my keys from the counter.
“Don’t storm out.
We’re having a family discussion.”
“No,” I said.
“You’re giving me instructions.”
“Be out by the weekend.”
I drove until Oak Ridge disappeared behind me.
Then I pulled into a grocery store parking lot and opened my laptop.
The shared household email account was still logged in.
A subject line caught my eye.
ROOM SETUP.
Derek had written:
Make sure Naomi is out before the kids arrive.
I don’t want her ruining the vibe.
Mom’s reply appeared beneath it.
I’ve already started packing her things.
Once she’s finally out, this house can feel like family again.
It will finally be ours.
I scrolled down.
May you like
There was an attachment.
And my name was on it.
