I gave a sleepy smile and accepted a glass of juice from my mother when she handed it to me. She tried to tame my hair with her fingers, but gave up with a whispered, “Oh, my”, as she walked back into the kitchen.
“Good morning to you, too,” I replied to Kira’s comment.
“Indeed it is a good morning,” my father said casually from his seat at the head of the table. I wouldn’t look his way. He never said anything about being nice to him; I just had to be nice to our guests and pretend not to hate him. “How was it sleeping in your old bed?” He added.
Why does he have to push it? “Fine,” was all I said back.
I could feel all eyes on me as I bit into my slice of toast.
“Have you gotten adjusted to college life, Anthony?” Mr. Tanaka asked. “I recall it taking the girls a month or two to become acclimated when they first started last year.”
I nodded. “I’m about as settled as I’m gonna be before I switch over to Charleston in a few weeks.” I tasted my eggs while Mr. Tanaka and my father both stared.
“Charleston? Your parents didn’t mention that you’d be transferring,” he added.
My mother cleared her throat and took her seat at the table. There was the slightest hint of nervous tension on her face.
“Yeah, I’ll be heading there right after Winter Break. Everything’s already set in stone,” I said, making eye contact with my father.
“Was the decision based on curriculum? Or…did you receive a late scholarship offer?” Mr. Tanaka asked.
I shrugged. “No, I-“
“Westwood just isn’t what Anthony, nor my wife and I, hoped it would be,” my father interjected, preventing me from telling Mr. Tanaka why I’d changed my plans. “We believe that Charleston’s program will better meet Anthony’s academic expectations.”
Unbelievable.
Mr. Tanaka seemed satisfied with my father’s explanation and dropped the issue so that he could finish his meal. I, on the other hand, was fuming. At every turn, my father found new ways to belittle my relationship and I was sick of it.
“Reina? Kira? Did you sleep well?” My mother asked to change the subject.
“Yes, ma’am,” they replied in unison.
“Can we help you prepare Thanksgiving dinner?” Kira offered.
My mother gave her a warm smile. “That’d be nice.”
Reina shot Kira a quick side-eye and then looked back at her plate.
“I’ll get a taste of what it’s like having a daughter,” my mother joked. “Anthony’s never been much help in the kitchen.”
Kira looked at me and gave a shy smile instead of sharing one of her usual cynical comments.
“Actually…I think Kira’s on to something,” my father interjected. “Perhaps if we all pitch in in the kitchen, we can pull out the board games when all of the work is done.”
I couldn’t take any more of my father’s ‘family-man’ act and keep my breakfast down. “Better break out the Dust-buster, too, while you’re at it, ‘cause those things have been in the closet for close to a decade,” I said as I stood from my chair, inadvertently letting our guests know that the man sitting at the head of the table today, was not the same man who sat there the day before. He was really laying it on thick. “Board games…” I muttered to myself as I prepared to retreat to my bedroom until time to head over to Sam’s.
“Where’re you going?” He asked, trying to mask his anger.
“My room.”
“You’ll be helping with dinner, right?”
Was this guy serious? “Dad,” I said through gritted teeth, “I won’t even be eating here, so, no…I won’t be helping with dinner.”
It was clear by my father’s expression that this was news to him, although I couldn’t understand why. I watched his expression go from shocked to furious in three seconds flat. When I walked off, he was on my heels as soon as he excused himself from the table. He caught up to me in the foyer just in front of the stairs. The feel of his hand on my arm when he grabbed it prompted me to snatch from his grasp and shoot him a warning glare.