“Good.” He takes his steak knife fork, cutting off a small section of pork chop.
“It’s such a dangerous neighborhood.” My mother shakes her head. “I don’t know why anyone would live in that area of town.”
“They can’t afford to live somewhere else.”
“Then, they should work harder.” She shrugs like life is as simple as making a statement, and it happens.
“It doesn’t always work that way. Many people living in those neighborhoods are dealing with generational poverty. They were raised by parents and grandparents who worked physical labor for paltry sums of money and had to find ways to survive on that. So school wasn’t a priority. Getting out and hustling was. Whether that was finding places with free food and clothing. Or working from a young age. Or stealing, they had to find ways to survive. When that’s how you were raised, that’s all you know. They can’t magically become doctors and lawyers.”
My face heats as the amount of word vomit, I just laid down sinks in. I got on my soapbox. I never get on my soapbox with my parents. Somehow, I’ve got to save this. “Just as I would flounder if someone told me to live with no job, no home, and no family to lean on. I wouldn’t know where to start because I lived a blessed life.”
“I get it.” My dad nods. “Which is why you must get your medical degree. It’s what you were raised to do.”
Of course, that’s what he got out of it.
The doorbell chimes, interrupting our awkward conversation and filling me with relief. I wipe my hands on my jeans. Hopefully, this throws them off and gives me the chance to leave before I say something extremely stupid.
My mother opens the door, escorting my aunt, uncle, and Heather into the room. “Join us. We were getting ready for dessert.”
Oh, peachy. This is fantastic.
“Great,” Aunt Maye says and joins us at the table. My mom and her sister were named after months of the year. Although neither of them was born in the month that they were named after. My grandparents just liked the names.
“It would be a pleasure to join you. Mrs. Taylor only had cheesecake for dessert, and I hate the consistency of cheesecake.”
Mrs. Taylor? Alexander’s mom?My heart thunders in my chest. She can’t mean Alexander’s mom. Can she?
Heather sits beside me and smirks. “Don’t eat too much. You don’t want to have too many carbs again, like at the wedding rehearsal dinner.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I’d get up and leave if my parents wouldn’t find it rude and disrespectful. I’m open to standing up to Heather in appropriate circumstances, but in front of them and my aunt and uncle, when it’s not provoked, is a bad idea. I also believe in respect, even when it means suffering through dessert with my cousin.
“You should have been at Professor Taylor’s parent’s house tonight.” She waggles her eyebrows. “But you weren’t invited.”
“Oh?” I lick my lips and plaster anI don’t care about what we’re talking aboutexpression on my face when I clearly do.
“Yes.” She bites her bottom lip and eyes me up and down. “Your stupid little crush on the teacher is about to crash and burn.”
“I don’t have a stupid little crush on the teacher.” Heat floods over my face at the lie. Here’s to hoping my nose doesn’t grow.
“I think you do. You protest too much.” She laughs and accepts a plate of dessert from my mom. The scent of chocolate fills the room, making my stomach clench. The last person I want to know Alexander and I are together is Heather. She’ll stop at nothing to blow everything up until only shards of my heart remain.
“Daisy and Alexander sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S.I.N.G.”
“You’re ridiculous.” God, her voice is as annoying as her face.
“Stop!” My father glares at both of us. “Heather, you’re being childish. You’re twenty-three years old and singing a kid’s song at the dinner table. And Daisy is not interested in her professor. She knows that would destroy everything she’s worked for. Besides, she doesn’t have time for a relationship. Not until she has her Ph.D. The sheer amount of focus and attention it’ll require to pass these classes is unlike anything she’s previously experienced.”
That sounds so fun. What if I don’t want to spend every waking second studying? Surely there are people who’ve gone to medical school and been in a relationship simultaneously. There must be.
“It doesn’t matter, Uncle Daniel. The party was so Professor Taylor’s parents could find him the perfect bride.” She slides her fork through the chocolate cake.
“It was like an episode ofThe Bachelor, but without the roses or the cameras.” Aunt Maye scoops a dollop of cream onto her cake.
“Don’t forget this camera.” Heather pulls her cell phone out of her clutch. “I have an image of the upcoming bride and groom.” She swipes the screen as the world crashes around me.
How did this happen? Why didn’t he tell me?
She shoves the phone in front of my face to a photo of a perfect blonde woman standing inches away from Alexander with her boobs shoved in his face. Why didn’t he tell me about the purpose of this dinner? He said his father wanted him to marry to get the company, but it was supposed to be to me. Wasn’t it? Or was that a lie?