Part 3The Price of a Welcome
About 2,021 characters · Part 3 is the last of the three Parts printed here; Part 4 continues in the official app.
I put the chicken down and walked out of the kitchen.
In the guest room, Dad had opened all three of my suitcases. Their contents were strewn across the floor.
"Dad," I asked, stunned, "what are you looking for?"
He kicked at a can of formula with his foot, his face a mask of annoyance. "Three huge bags, and not a single thing for us! You're a college-educated woman, for God's sake. Don't you know basic etiquette? Who shows up to their parents' house empty-handed?"
I stared at him in shock. I had never heard of bringing hostess gifts to your own home. The reason I used to show up with a car full of presents was because I loved them. I wanted to spoil them, to make them happy. I never knew they saw it as an obligation.
So it wasn't just Mike. My own father saw me as a visitor now. An outsider.
I stood there, frozen, watching my mom kneel on the floor, frantically trying to tidy the mess.
Dad grumbled something under his breath and stormed out of the house.
When Mike heard I hadn't brought gifts, he took the entire pot of chicken soup and carried it next door to our grandma's house.
"You show up with nothing and expect a free meal?" he called over his shoulder. "Have you no shame?"
A hot rush of anger surged through me. I started stuffing all of Lily’s things back into the suitcases. I'd grab my daughter and leave. I had money; there were hotels in town. If this house didn't want us, somewhere else would.
Mom grabbed my arm, her voice choked with tears. "It's getting dark, honey. How will you manage with the baby and three suitcases? Please, I'm begging you, just stay the night. Your father is a stubborn old man and your brother is being a jerk, just ignore them. I've waited so long to see you. Just stay with me, please?"
My resolve softened. She was right. This was my home, too. Why should I let them chase me out?
Not only was I going to stay, but I was going to demand the same treatment as my brother.
I turned to her. "Mom, are there any more chickens? Because I'm still hungry."
"Yes, yes, of course."