“Sounds like a plan,” I told her.
She eased her way down the hall to her bedroom.
After she left, I went into the kitchen, looked at the menu for the week that Cassidy had posted on the old whiteboard stuck to the ancient refrigerator, and started to pull out ingredients to make shepherd’s pie. It was an old comfort food from our childhood that Cassidy had made healthier by replacing the meat with soy products and enhancing the vegetables until they almost overran the sauce, but it was a recipe I could follow.
It was a lot of steps, but it kept my mind off the fact that Cass had lost her job and would still refuse any money I offered to toss her way. It was exasperating to not be able to help my family in ways I helped others. They were so damn stubborn.
The back door slamming shut brought my head up from the pan I was layering with mashed potatoes. Mom came in with a bag of baby supplies I wasn’t sure Cassidy even needed.
“What are you doing?” Mom asked.
“Cooking dinner. Why?”
“Do you even know how to cook?”
“Contrary to what you’d like to believe, neither Cass nor I are little kids anymore. We’re adults who know how to take care of ourselves.”
She snorted, and I couldn’t help the flare of irritation that flamed into existence at her derision.
“What exactly makes you think we can’t?”
Mom looked surprised that I’d call her out on it. “Cassidy got herself knocked up, and you don’t do anything for yourself. You have a team that caters to your every whim.”
“Cassidy had sex with a man, Mom. Did you expect her to be a virgin forever? These things happen, even when precautions are taken. They both?”
“You know who it is! You know and haven’t told me?” Her face squinted with anger.
“Please! You’re the last person who should be holding the you-didn’t-tell-me card over my head.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It means you knew Elana had died and wrote it on a goddamn sticky note instead of picking up the phone to tell me.” The words were bitter, anger and hurt layered in each of them.
She looked momentarily taken aback before defending herself. “You were filming the live episodes ofFighting for the Stars.”
“Jesus, Mom. Do you really think that would have stopped me from coming?”
“No. Of course not! You’ve always shirked off your responsibilities for that woman.”
God. We always came back to this same topic. The times I’d lost myself in my piano or guitar. The times I’d been late getting back from Elana’s. The times that the music driving me had made me forget my family responsibilities. But I’d been a kid. A teenage, hormone-driven, dreams-in-the-eyes kid.
“I missed her funeral, Mom. Her funeral! I didn’t get to say goodbye to the person who taught me how to be the person I am. She’s the reason I made it into Juilliard. She’s the reason for every success I’ve had.”
My words hurt her. A flash of pain coursed across her face before being replaced by nothing. I couldn’t help the fact that what I’d said was true. Elana had molded and shaped me as a musician and as a human being. In that moment, I realized Mom was jealous of Elana. Jealous even though she hadn’t had the time for me. She’d been too absorbed in all things Cassidy.
“I did what I thought was best,” she said quietly.
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? You think you know what’s best for all of us, but really, it’s always been about what’s best for you.”
She went rigid. Arms crossed. Face and body rock-solid.
“Because what would become of you if Cass didn’t need you anymore?” I continued pushing when I knew I should have backed off. But I was hurt and angry, too, and it drove me to say cruel things.
She slapped me.
I stared at her, dazed. My parents had never believed in physical punishment. Never. I’d been grounded, had my instruments taken away, and had been given extra chores, but they’d never resorted to violence to prove their point. Mom looked as stunned as I was that she’d done it.
I stepped away, trying to remember the love that I knew existed between us instead of the harsh words.
