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“Seriously? That’s where I want to go!”
Paige’s ears perked up while my husband wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“It’s a wonderful school. One of the best in the country. We’re having Paige apply there early decision.”
My daughter shot eye daggers at her father. “You know I don’t want to go to Stanford. I want to go to RISD.”
Riz-Dee. The Rhode Island School of Design. The school I once dreamed of attending to become an illustrator. That never happened.
Furrowing his dense brows, Matt deflected the daggers. “There’s no discussion. No daughter—or son—of mine is going to some artsy-fartsy design school. You need a real education to get ahead in this world. Tanya, here, seems to understand that.”
At the mention of her name, our guest lit up like a lantern. She looked at my husband like he was God.
Matt’s eyes were dark, narrow, and cold and stayed fixed on our defiant daughter. He set down his utensils with a bang, but I was thankful he didn’t stab his fork or knife into our rare satinwood table. His temper had gotten worse over time. “Paige, you’re applying to Stanford, so you better get cracking on those essays, which are due soon. End of discussion.”
“Matt, what’s early decision?” asked Tanya, cocking her head while Paige pouted. “I’m not that familiar with the American college application process.”
Matt turned to her. “It’s when you apply to only one school and if they accept you right away, you must commit to going there.” He took another hearty bite of his chops. “Tanya, if you really want to go to Stanford, you should do that. Paige can help you download an application, and if she doesn’t, I’ll be glad to. Or you can ask my son, Will. He’s a computer whiz.”
Will ran a hand through his cluster of auburn curls and rolled his hazel-green eyes. “Sheesh. It’s not hard. Even a dumb girl can do it.”
It was the most words he’d uttered around the dinner table in ages. I caught Paige smirking. Tanya looked affronted, but I couldn’t blame her. I was happy she let the dig go. I wasn’t in the mood for a fight around the table.
“Talking about school, who’s excited about their first day tomorrow?”
Both Will and Paige looked at me as if I’d asked them to clean the toilet or pick up dog poop. Almost on cue, barking sounded.
Will looked up from his plate, his expression perplexed. “What’s Bear still doing in the backyard?”
“Sweetheart, Tanya is afraid of him. We’re going to have to keep him outside whenever she’s not upstairs in her room.”
My son frowned. “That’s so not fair!”
“Totally!” concurred Paige. She always stuck up for her brother, no matter what. “He’s part of the family and should be inside with us. Why can’t Will keep him in his room when she’s around?”
“I suppose that would work.” I looked at Tanya. “Would that be okay with you, dear?”
“Fine.” I detected resentment in her voice. Fortunately, no one made another comment. Issue resolved, I clapped my hands together. “Now, will someone please answer my question? Who’s excited about starting school tomorrow?”
Paige and Will went back to their meals and their normal silence around the dinner table. Sometimes I wanted to shake them.
“I am!” chimed in Tanya. “Coldwater Academy sounds awesome.”
With an approving nod, Matt gave her a thumbs-up. “It’s the top private school in all of Los Angeles. Maybe in all of California. You’d think my two children would be grateful to get such a stellar education, but they’re not. Sometimes, I think we should pull them out and put them in public school. Let them get a taste of the real world.”
“Matt, stop!” I begged. “I’m sure they appreciate everything we give them.”
“Can I please be excused?” asked Paige.
“Me too,” added Will. “I’m bringing Bear up to my room.”
Without waiting for permission, the two of them bolted from their chairs and marched out of the dining room. They were like an army of two. Sometimes, I thought if they possessed a gun, they’d use it on me and their father. I’d read horror stories of parents being shot by their kids, which only fueled my ongoing battle with Matt to get rid of the gun he’d bought. A battle I knew I was never going to win.
“Natalie,” said Tanya, pulling me out of my thoughts, “that was the best meal I’ve ever had. Can I help you clear the table?”
I was pleasantly taken aback. Neither Paige nor her brother ever offered. Nor did my workaholic husband, who always headed straight to his office after dinner for an hour or two. I smiled warmly at her.
“Darling, that’s so sweet of you to offer, but there’s really no need.”
