doing what they thought was best, taking the only option they
had left to them. Maybe this was their way of giving everyone
what they thought they wanted.
Emily forced herself to pull out the chair in front of the
empty plate. There were two stupid forks, a spoon, and a wine
glass. That made her want to scream too. She’d known for a
long time that their home life was off. That it was stuffy and
just plain strange compared to how other people lived, but the
pretense of this whole thing after the wonderful simplicity of
Dani’s small apartment made Emily want to cry.
She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want this to be her
life. She could see why she was in such a hurry, so very
desperate, to get out in the first place. Now, she didn’t want to
come back to it. She didn’t want to be in this place that
seemed cold and uninviting, a home that wasn’t actually a
home, a place where the walls were all the same color, and the
furniture was all expensive and tasteful and matching.
No one moved to help themselves to the steaming covered
dishes on the table. The smell of the food, which Emily
thought was probably a roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a
vegetable of some kind, a well as bowls of salad, made her
feel sick.
“Emily,” Peter said.
She forced herself to turn her face to her dad. “Dad,” she
said. She faced her mom next, looking directly across the table
at her and meeting her eye. “Mom.” She folded her hands in
her lap and just went for it, even though she knew that her
parents would consider what she had to say a tasteless
outburst. Tasteless or not, it was going to be said. “I appreciate
everything you’ve done for me. How you’ve raised me to be a