Page 6 of Building What's Meant to Be

“Numbers with foreign denominations and global leaders attached to them.”

“So you looked into the case?” I ask.

“Of course I did. My sister was taken in for questioning after the arrest of a man accused of extortion, embezzlement, and espionage.”

“Because it could damage the family name?”

“You’ve already made quite a dent, Tinsley.”

“By living in Hollywood? Going to concerts? Parties? Traveling all over the world?”

“Let me remind you that our father grew up approximately seventy miles from here in a building that has since been condemned. Until he went to grade school, he only got one meal a day. At the age of nine, he was too young to have his own paper route, so he talked the neighborhood kid who had it into letting him take over for seventy percent of the earnings. When things started looking up, he was sent to an orphanage. There, he organized the other kids to make felt Christmas ornaments and sold them on the corner. I could go on to how he learned to fix cars, became a lifeguard, and studied law at night even though it was doubtful he’d ever go to college.”

“I know the story. I also know that Mother had an affair and Father has been married to his job my entire life.”

My brother flinches at my accusation but plows ahead with his defense. He’s a great lawyer, but we’re not in the courthouse. “Our father has worked exceedingly hard for all of this,” John spreads his arms wide, “and you’re out there—”

“Yeah. I’m out there.” Tears pierce the corners of my eyes as I glance over my shoulder, ready to leave. “But that’s because I’ve never felt welcome here. Maybe Dad worked hard for all of this, but I’d be happy in that condemned building if I’d ever even had ten minutes of his time and attention. And as for Mom? She married into it. She hasn’t worked a day—”

“And you think all of this just holds itself together?” John asks, voice even.

“She’s never lifted a finger except for that time I walked in on her and—”

Again, he overlooks my comment about our mother. “You really don’t know how Mother and Father met? She was a maid at a hotel he stayed at in Texas while on a tournament trip thanks to his basketball scholarship in college. You think our parents look down on people who aren’t as wealthy as they are, but the truth is you look down on Mother and Father.”

“Then you’re saying she has a Cinderella story?” I snort, imagining our mother in a maid’s uniform instead of the designer clothing and pearls she ordinarily wears.

“Their story is even better. It’s the American dream.”

“You don’t understand, John. I’m pretty sure that dream includes fidelity and family. When was the last time Dad called me? Never. He has never called me to say hi.”

John blows by what I said. “No, you don’t understand because you’ve never wanted for anything in your life.”

“Not true. I wanted to be in movies.”

“I said you never wantedforanything, meaning you’ve always had access to three meals or more a day. You didn’t have to get a paper route at the age of nine to help pay rent. You weren’t orphaned.”

“No, except right now.” I cock my head sharply, jarring my brain which throbs with a headache.

He tilts his head with irritation. “Tinsley, you have no idea what Mother and Father went through to get here.”

Because they’ve never told me. Because they don’t talk to me. Because I mean nothing to them.

“But I don’t want all of this.” I indicate the estate with a flip of my hand.

“Then what are you doing here?” His voice is what I imagine a shark sounds like.

“Good question.” But again, the answer comes as if on the breeze.

Because I don’t have anywhere else to go. Because I just want a family. To love and be loved.

But the other answer from earlier is on its tail, rising out of my internal chasm like a fire-breathing dragon. The thing has the potential to burn it all down.

If I want all that, I’ll have to change.

“There’s a box in the garage containing some of your stuff,” John says.

“Just going to pack me up and ship me off like Mom and Dad did when they sent me to boarding school?”

---