The Ignore Daughter Have True Honor Chapter 02
Friday. I flew into Providence and drove down to Newport.
No one came to meet me.
I took a black car service straight to my parents’ house.
Melanie opened the door.
She did a small double take, something flickering behind her eyes.
“Hazel… I almost didn’t recognize you. The city’s been good to you, huh? That outfit doesn’t exactly scream two grand a month take-home.”
I didn’t respond. I walked past her into the house.
Serena’s eyes tracked to the watch on my wrist, then swept over my coat. She pressed her lips together.
“Hazel, come on, we’re family. You don’t need to put on a show like this. How many credit cards did you max out?”
Elliot glanced at me. “Ten years away, and you haven’t picked up a single skill. Just the ego.”
Ethan chimed in, laughing. “Impressive, Hazel. You used to be so plain in high school. Now you’ve learned how to work a knockoff.”
I looked at them.
Ten years, them had changed.
Elliot had put on weight. Melanie had lines at the corners of her eyes. Ethan’s hairline had retreated visibly.
Serena was the exception. Porcelain-smooth, immaculate, styled to within an inch of her life.
But one thing was the same across all four faces.
That same faint, casual condescension when they looked at me.
I raised an eyebrow.
“From the day I graduated until now, I have never once mentioned my income to any of you. I have never sent any of you a private message complaining about money. So where exactly are you getting your numbers from?”
Nobody had an answer.
My mother came out of the kitchen carrying a serving dish. She glanced at me.
“With no college degree, what kind of job could she possibly get in New York? Three grand a month, tops.”
My father clapped me on the shoulder. “Alright, alright. We’re family. Nobody here’s going to judge you for struggling. Let’s just eat.”
Eight dishes.
Ethan and Melanie both cooed over them.
“Mrs. Whitmore, you remembered I love the ribs!”
“You made the lemon cream salmon again! Mrs. Whitmore, that was my favorite last time.”
I glanced across the table.
Every person at the table had their favorite in front of them.
Even the golden retriever curled up at the foot of the couch had a small bowl of beef set aside by my mother.
Every person except me.
At the table, my mother sliced the tenderest piece of prime rib and pushed it onto Serena’s plate.
“We’ve made a few real estate investments along the Newport coast over the years. One property for Elliot. One for Serena. One we live in. And a smaller one we’re renting out.”
She looked up at me. “Hazel, Elliot and Serena both went to top schools. It’s only right that they get property. If you got one too, when you didn’t even finish college, it wouldn’t be fair to them.”
I set down my fork and let out a small laugh.
“So the way this family divides property is by GPA. Not by how many biological children you have.”
The table went dead silent.
My mother’s face flushed red. Her palm came down on the table hard enough to rattle the glasses.
“Hazel! Ten years, not so much as a phone call, and you walk into this house and start attacking me?!”
“If I’d known you’d turn out this ungrateful, I should have given you up for adoption at the hospital!”
Exactly like ten years ago.
The day my mother saw my SAT score report.
The mug flew straight at my forehead. Hit hard enough to split the skin above my eyebrow.
Blood ran down the side of my face and dripped onto the hardwood.
She’d worn the same expression. “The one thing I regret in this life is not giving you up at the hospital. It would have saved me the embarrassment.”
Ten years was long enough to give up on whatever thin sliver of maternal love I’d once hoped for.
Right now, I didn’t feel a thing.
My father tried to smooth things over. “You know how your mother is. She says things she doesn’t mean. Don’t take it personally.”
He forced a laugh and changed the subject. “Serena, I got my hands on a bottle of Macallan 25 through a friend. We’ll give it to Mr. Ashford tomorrow. He’ll love it.”
Serena smiled tightly. Something guarded moved behind her eyes.
“Dad… Mr. Ashford might not be able to make it.”