Page 84 of It's in the Contract
“I’ll get it.” Caroline stands. “You dig in.”
I dish Mia a portion before adding a heaping pile to my own plate. I would normally not eat so much in one sitting, but I am literally starving. I add a big scoop of salad, too, because balance.
I’m passing the lasagna to Zeke when Caroline walks back into the room. Her face is slightly unsure, and she’s toying with her wedding ring. Mom steps out from behind her, her arms crossed, her lips in a tight frown.
A jolt goes through me at seeing Mom. It feels like it’s been a long time since we had more than a passing conversation, and she does not look happy. For once she’s wearing jeans and an orange hoodie with the words “Trim & Fit”—the name of the gym where she teaches—written in swirling letters across the chest.
“I need to talk to Callie,” Mom says. She eyes my plate. “That is way too much food, Cal.”
I swallow and set down my fork. My initial shock and embarrassment morphs into anger, boiling up within me. My stomach clenches from hunger and rage, and my fingers curl into fists underneath the table. My cheeks are on fire.
How dare she?How dare she?
“I can decide how much to eat, Mom,” I say. My voice is taut, my words clipped. I’ve had enough.
She sighs, her brows furrowing together in barely contained irritation. “Where have you been all day?”
I guess we’re doing this here. Mia attacks her food and Caroline takes a seat. Zeke glances at me, worry on his face.
“I was helping Caroline and Zeke with their church fundraiser. I told you about it.”I wish you could’ve seen me,is what I don’t add.
“I don’t remember hearing about this.” Her eyes stare me down.
My hunger is forgotten, the lasagna getting cold in front of me. “I know I told you. You were probably rushing off to teach cardio kickboxing instead of really listening to me.”
“Zeke, Mia, we should probably—” Caroline begins, but Mom cuts her off.
“I listen to you, Callie, and I would know if my daughter was going to be gone all day helping some church!” Her voice is rising in volume, and some part of me knows that we shouldn’t do this here, not where people can see, but that part is getting smothered by the fury blistering within me.
“You would remember if you actually paid attention to me!” I shout. Tears sting my eyes. “You tell me what to eat, how much to work out, and what to wear. You never ask what I want or how I feel. Nothing I ever do is good enough for you. Nothing!”
I sit down, the poisonous words finally out of me, the words I’ve been holding in for so long finally in the open. I feel wrung out, like dough kneaded and stretched.
Mom’s jaw drops. She blinks. Then she clamps her mouth shut, her eyes shining with rage. She glances at the surprised and embarrassed faces around the table, and I know what’s going through her head. She’s worrying about what these people will think of us more than she’s worried about her own daughter’s feelings.
I grind my teeth and stare at my plate.
“You’re coming home with me, now,” Mom says.
I shove my chair back and push past her on my way to the door.
“Callie—” I hear Zeke’s chair scrape against the floor, but I’ve already slipped on my shoes and am halfway out the door.
Thirty-One
Are you okay?
Text message from Zeke Harris to Callie Carter.
The car ridehome is silent. The resentment within me wars with gnawing hunger. Now that the adrenaline is leaving my system, I’m starving again. I still haven’t eaten all day, and now I’m annoyed that I left a delicious plate of Caroline’s lasagna on the table when all we have at home is protein bars and celery sticks.
Mom doesn’t say anything, and the silence builds until she pulls in the driveway.
Finally, she parks the car, but neither of us gets out. I’m too exhausted. It’s been such a long day, with a few highs but so many lows, and I want to be able to share it with her. But she will never understand me.
Mom sighs. “Callie, look at me.”
I turn, and I wither under her blistering stare.
