Chapter 5 - A New Tide
By 10:00 PM, the guests had long departed my mother's house, leaving behind clean tables, full bellies, and a sense of warmth that had been missing from my life for a very long time.
I helped my mother wash the giant aluminum pot in the sink, the soapy water washing away the last traces of salt and spice from my hands.
"Are you going back tonight?" she asked softly, not looking up from her scrubbing.
"Yes," I said. "I have to face him eventually. But it’s not going to be the same when I get there."
"Good," Elena said, setting the pot on the drying rack. "Because you are worth more than a box of small crabs, Mara. Don't ever let them make you feel small again."
When I pulled into our driveway at eleven, the house was dark except for the single light in the kitchen.
Daniel was sitting at the island, a cold slice of leftover delivery pizza sitting on a paper plate in front of him. The house smelled of stale cardboard and silent anger.
He looked up when I walked in, his eyes tired and rimmed with red. "My family is furious with you, Mara. My mother says she’s never been so humiliated in her own home."
"Your mother humiliated herself, Daniel," I said, setting my purse on the counter. "She tried to play a power game with a gift I brought out of generosity, and she lost. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at her for choosing pride over dinner."
Daniel stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "And what about me? You left me there to take the heat."
"I gave you a choice in that kitchen," I said, stepping closer to him so he could see the absolute clarity in my eyes. "I asked you to have my back. You chose her stress over my dignity. From now on, if you want me at your family's table, you better make sure there is a seat of respect kept for me. Otherwise, I’ll keep eating with people who appreciate what I bring."
May you like
He opened his mouth to argue, but the look on my face stopped him. For the first time in eight years, he saw that the sand had been cleared away. I was no longer buried.
I walked past him, up the stairs to our bedroom, leaving him alone in the quiet kitchen with his cold pizza and the realization that the tides had finally turned.
