Family Dinner

As I walk out of the bathroom, I see Kelly disappear into her bedroom next to mine. Kelly is, as other kids might put it, popular. At eighteen years old, she is model gorgeous and the leader of her school's cheer squad. Every boy clamors after her, but she doesn't pay them any attention. Or maybe she does, and I just don't hear about it. In any case, I barely see her as she closes her door behind her.

After getting dressed into a pair of khaki shorts and a new-ish T shirt, I go downstairs to help Mom prepare. She's dancing around the kitchen, cooking, while listening to some music on a speaker. I set the table for her. A plate for each of us, plus a knife and fork. I smile at her as she twirls across the tile floor, not paying me any attention, lost in her work.

As I finish, I hear the front door open. My other sister, Ashley, walks in and tosses her bag onto the couch. "Dom?" she asks, as she sees me standing by the table.

I walk over and give her a quick hug. "Hey, Ash. How've you been?" Despite living at home, Ashley is often away for work. This is the first time I've seen her in almost two weeks.

Ashley is a beautiful woman, a few years older than me, and not at all like my mother. Not physically, not emotionally. Ashley is petite, barely coming to my chin, and barely weighs a hundred pounds. Despite that, she has a fierce personality. She works in software sales, and she's damn good at it.

She smiles at me, and I am struck by her beauty. Not in the way I was struck by Mom's earlier, but still. I can't help but notice the way her eyes sparkle against the overhead light. She brushes a strand of her black curls back behind one ear. "I'm good," she says. "Landed a good deal this week. Looks like we make it another month." Another grin.

"Ashley!" I hear Mom shout from behind me. She runs around the counter and wraps her oldest daughter in a big hug. "Just in time for dinner, too," she says, and plants a kiss on Ashley's cheek. "I didn't expect you to be home quite yet."

"Yeah, well like I was telling Dom here, I landed a deal. That means I got paid, but also that I was able to come home a little early." Ashley travels for her work, usually only within the region, but enough that she often lives out of a suitcase. Whispers of a thought tickle my mind, but I can't focus on the fleeting idea and it escapes me.

"Ash!" I hear another voice behind us yell. Kelly rolls into us like a bowling bowl, knocking Mom and me out of the way to hug her sister. She's already changed into fresh clothes, a white tank top and pair of yoga shorts.

Unlike Ashley, Kelly inherited Mom's curves. Her blonde hair matches Moms exactly, and I can't help but imagine how she and Mom could have been twins if Mom was younger.

Kelly finally releases Ashley, the latter girl mocking oxygen deprivation at being smothered by her younger sister's chest, and looks at me. "Hey, Dom," she says, her voice noticeably less warm than it had been with Ashley.

"Hey, Kelly," I say back.

Kelly and I were never particularly close. Neither were Ashley and I, for that matter. But after Dad's ****, it got worse. We went through a phase where we fought constantly, every day, until it fizzled out with mutual disdain. Well, I say disdain, but it isn't like I don't love my sister. I do. But she chose to focus on sports and popularity, two things I had completely ignored. It's no surprise that we didn't get along very well.

Shit, I know Ashley barely tolerates me despite her greeting earlier. Both girls are hyperaware of my status as the money-leeching son, and I can't blame them. Before, maybe, but not now. My sober brain sifts through the thoughts my nootropic one created, albeit much more slowly. I know what I am. What I've been. A frown stretches across my face, and Kelly gives me a funny look.

"You alright? You look constipated."

"Err," I murmur, my thoughts returning to the present. "I'm okay. Sorry."

Kelly shrugs, then moves past me to sit down at the table. Ashley sits directly across from her, leaving two spots for Mom and me.

"Mom, let me help you with that," I say, returning to the kitchen with Mom to carry over the dishes she prepared. Pan-seared chicken, couscous, and oil-sauteed vegetables. A healthy dish, as always. Mom carries the chicken, while I grab the sides and follow her.

She places her dish on the table and slides into her seat beside Ashley, and I follow, taking my seat beside Kelly. Both girls give me a strange look.

"What?" I say, looking between them.

Neither say anything, and I look at Mom. She gives me a soft smile and shakes her head, indicating I should leave it alone. I recognize that look. What she really means is, "Hey, please don't start a fight. I don't want to deal with it right now." So I don't, instead grabbing the tongs on the plate of chicken and grabbing some food.

As the moment passed, Ashley starts into a longwinded description of her most recent sale and how much money she made from it. It may seem strange to outsiders, but Mom doesn't work. We don't have any income, except for Ashley. Something I always took for granted, but that now eats at me with each passing moment. I resolve to help her, even more so than just providing some income to our family. Somehow, I need to make up all of the time she has lost working eighty-plus hours a week for our family. I don't know how she did it: how she still does it. Whereas I've allowed myself to be withered away by life, she has done the opposite.

I look up from my plate, watching her animated explanation of the application tool she just closed a six-figure deal on. I feel a newfound respect in my chest. A string of words catches my attention, and I realize what she is actually talking about.

"Well, I didn't have much choice. We have a mortgage to pay, and he made the offer." Her eyes are sad, and I realize I had zoned out at the wrong time. "I need the money." She looks at Mom. "You need the money. It wasn't a big deal, only a quick touch." With a sinking feeling, I stay quiet.

"Ashley, you should never have to do that on our behalf. Please, never again. We'll make things work. I can sell this house if I have to. Nothing we have is worth losing your dignity over," Mom says, her tone sad but supportive. "I'm sorry, dear, that you experienced that."

I look at Kelly. My younger sister is sitting quietly, visibly stressed. Shit, I really should have been paying attention. Or on the nootropic. Maybe then I could piece together what is happening, but my sober mind is too dumb and too slow!

"It's okay, Mom," Ashley says, offering a weak smile. "We got paid, and that's what matters. If I hadn't done it, we would have defaulted on our mortgage this month and you know it. Now, I'd really rather not talk about this anymore."

Mom only nods in response, then returns to her food. Even without my enhanced senses, I see the sadness in her movements. I have to find out what happened to Ashley and make it right.

Kelly finishes her food without speaking and quietly excuses herself, no doubt upset by what Ashley shared. Ashley tries to carry the conversation into a different area, but it only ever fizzles out and eventually, she leaves too. Mom and I sit at the table alone, surrounded by dirty dishes.

"I'll clean up," I say, and carry the first load of dishes to the sink. As I return to the table for the remainder, I see Mom hasn't moved. Her shoulders are dead still. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Yes, I am," she murmurs back, rising and turning. A single tear streaks down her cheek, which she quickly wipes away. "Sorry," she says, and grabs the last few dishes. "I have this tonight, you can go."

My heart wants me to stay and help, to live up to my promise, but even my sober mind can tell she wants to be alone. "Alright, Mom. I'll be upstairs if you need me. I love you."

"I love you too, dear."