No way will I ever call this thing a home.
The layout is as familiar as a worn pair of kicks, but the shiny new electronics are like neon laces added to dirty old sneakers. Only distracting for a moment.
I stride through the living room, straight back into the kitchen. Vivian leans against the counter, sipping some fruity cocktail as she watches a reality show on the TV mounted over the sink.
If we had a normal mother-daughter relationship, I might ask if she’s tried K-dramas. My roommate in college turned me on to them, and now I’m just slightly addicted. For a time, I wondered if maybe I was Korean. But when I finally found Wai Po, I learned about my Taiwanese heritage. Not that the discovery dampened my adoration for South Korean dramas.
When Vivian sets her glass down, she doesn’t acknowledge me, just reaches for a bottle of nail polish and shakes it hard.
I wonder if she’s imagining my face when she does that.
My mom blames me for the fact that we don’t have a relationship. I blame her ability to gloss over parts of reality she’d rather not acknowledge. Parts I started pointing out to her when I got tired of playing her dress-up baby doll.
“So,” I begin, “about a year ago?—”
The sound of the front door opening cuts me off.
“Mom?” The voice is deep and familiar.
“In the kitchen!” she shouts back, and her beautiful face splits into a wide smile when my brother strolls in.
“Leo.” I say my twin’s name in greeting with as little emotion as I can manage.
“Luna?” He stops mid-step, every bit of his shock showing on his face. The man is a terrible poker player.
“Wow. You still remember my name. I’m flattered.”
He regains the ability to move and rolls his eyes, then throws a quick glance behind him before moving farther into the kitchen.
“There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry, baby.” My mother scoops her drink up and gestures with the glass before taking a sip.
Of course, she didn’t bother asking me if I wanted pizza.
“Thanks, Mom.” Leo dodges around me, heading straight for the food. Not acknowledging in any way that it’s been close to two years since we last saw each other. It takes everything I have not to pick at him as he settles his ass at the kitchen table without another look my way.
Now that I’m back here, I can’t help noticing the strange difference between this house and the Herberts’. Take away the actual appearance of the places, and you get down to what makes a home. The people. In Paige’s childhood home—which I have an open invitation to visit whenever the whim takes me—you’ll find everyone joyfully, if frantically, in the midst of wedding preparations. It’s been that way for months, with Mrs. Herbert working to ensure the day is perfect for her daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law. And despite the stress that comes with all the planning, love fills every joke and bantering comment exchanged in those four walls.
Here though, there’s no sense of urgency. Neither of these people know about the massive life event taking place in less than a week. That the baby of the family has excluded them from his celebration.
Mom sets down her drink and strolls over to my brother, where he sits, devouring the leftover pizza without heating it up. She claps her hands on Leo’s shoulders and gazes at him with so much fondness that I can guess at least half is a show for me.
That’s my mother. Displaying affection to one child in an attempt to hurt another.
“Look at you! Still a growing boy, even at your age.”
I fight off the urge to mime gagging.
“Worked up an appetite on the job, huh? Uncle Mike had better appreciate all the hard work you do.”
Leo grunts, and I shove my clenched fists into my pockets. Yeah, I’m sure Uncle Mike has him real busy.
Before a comment can snap off my lips, the front door shoves open, and my nerves tighten to pure steel. I need the reinforcement to deal with the new arrival.
“Fuck, I’m hungry,” a deep voice announces a second before the owner steps into the kitchen.
My father, ladies and gentlemen.
His blue eyes land on me, then widen, and when he paints on what other people have labeled as a charming smile, I just feel sick.