The six of us gathered around the table, Mom did the blessing over the candles, and then, the instant our backsides touched our chairs, she clanged a spoon against her wineglass.
“We have an announcement,” she crooned, the pile of curls on her head wobbling with excitement.
“Yes, we know,” I said. “Are you pregnant?”
Mom shot me a very dirty look. With a glance at Dad, who was nodding at her encouragingly, she gathered herself and continued.
“The twins have received a scholarship!”
“Wonderful!” Jane clapped.
“Was this scholarship based on the fraudulent SAT scores or…?” Dad shook his head at me firmly, so I changed tack. “How much is it?” If Mom was going to make this big a deal each time the twins received a few hundred dollars from the Jewish Federation or Burger King Scholars, it was going to be hard to keep up the excited facade.
Mom pressed her palms together and took a deep breath.
“Full. Ride.”
Still waiting for the punch line, I looked around. Jane’s mouth had dropped open. Dad was beaming.
“What?” I was confused. “Full ride to where?”
“The college of their choice! Dear, go get the check.”
Dad obliged and returned a moment later with an official-looking letter and a glossy check. Jane and I peered down at them; the letter expressed bland congratulations for some generic achievements and stated that the organization was committed to assisting families with multiples to afford higher education. Jane gasped and shoved the check under my nose. It took my mind several seconds to comprehend the number of zeroes.
“Three hundred thousand dollars?” I shrieked.
Mom was practically weeping with joy. The twins looked up with vague smiles before returning to their phone screens.
“That’s incredible!” Jane stood to hug everyone in turn.
“But what—how? Did you write the essay for them?” I shot at Mom suspiciously.
“Oh, who knows. We’ve applied to so many I can hardly remember anymore.”
Dad leaned over the table to take the check back, and I gave it one last sweeping look. (I may never see such a large sum of money again.) My eye fell on the branding: Tempest Scholars.
It was like swallowing ice water. Christopher? Had he heard my conversation with Mom that day outside the cabin? Was it possible—would he do this?
I plan to think long and hard about what else I can do with my wealth.Perhaps he had really meant those words. Perhaps—but was it more than generosity? Was he trying to make amends?
I struggled to make sense of my feelings. I didn’t knowwhatto feel: I had no experience with such a vast amount of money, nor with any amount of money being given to my family by a man who had professed his love to me. I did have experience with men falling for me and with rejecting those men; but those episodes usually ended with them making drunken phone calls and spiteful tweets and blocking me on Instagram. Never—never—with a generous gift that would forever alter the lives of my parents and sisters.
But—I took a gulp of wine—I was probably mistaken. Christopher didn’t have a monopoly on the wordtempest. I would have to look it up later.
“What do you know about the organization?” I kept my voice light as everyone began to serve themselves. “Tempest Scholars?”
“Now, now.” Dad chuckled. “When someone gives you a pretty penny you don’t ask too many questions.”
I looked at Mom, eyebrows raised.
“I googled them. Local company. Nice website,” she said, most unhelpfully.
Jane gave me a quizzical look. I mouthed that I would tell her later.
After dinner I took Jane aside and told her my suspicions.
“You know, I bet you’re right.” She sounded thoughtful. “When I saw that check, I wondered. Somehow I doubt it’s usual for scholarship organizations to send three hundred thousand dollars at a time.”
