Page 37 of Dirty Legend

"Amara! Come in," my mother beckoned me to the kitchen, where she stood over a pan. The scent of cumin wafted through the air and I barely suppressed a gag. My mom wasn't much of a cook, but her butter chicken had been my favorite as a kid.

Apparently, my kid felt different. I tried to breathe through my mouth. If I tossed my cookies at the smell of my mom's cooking, she'd get suspicious and ask questions I'd have no choice but to answer.

"Hi, mom." I bent down and wrapped my arms around her in a light hug. "Smells good."

Her eyes crinkled with her smile. "You're too skinny, Amara. I'll send you home with a plate." I could already feel a headache coming on and rubbed my temples. My mom forever thought I was too skinny, no matter how much she saw me eat or how much I actually weighed.

"Where's dad?"

"He's in his office. You know how it is." She waved the wooden spoon in her hand around precariously, flinging a few bits of sauce onto the stovetop.

The office would be safer for me right now away from the disgusting odor that'd taken up residence in the kitchen. I turned on my heel and tried to slow-walk my way out of the room. All I really wanted to do was run.

My dad's office door was only open a sliver, but I rapped my knuckles lightly on the wood before pushing my way inside. He looked up, his phone pressed to his ear and smiled. I gave him a little wave and lowered myself into the chair by the window. Normally I'd pour myself a drink. Alcohol was almost a necessity for these dinners with my parents. The pressure they put on me was insane, and the judgment in their eyes made me want to crawl out of my skin.

After a few minutes, he ended his call and came around to take the chair beside me. "Hey, dad."

He leaned back. "Hi. How was your trip?"

I could kiss my dad for asking me about my trip here instead of in front of my mom. My mom hated Kennedy's new life. She'd barely approved of our friendship before Kennedy married a rock star. Now, she was worse than Voldemort in my mom's eyes.She Who Must Not Be Named.

I sighed. "It was lovely. I didn't want to come home."

His glasses slipped down his nose, and he pushed them back up. "Oh?"

"I love the warm, ocean air," I lied. Well, it wasn't a complete lie. I did love that. But I also loved my girlfriends and having True around.

He chuckled. "I could see that. If you'd gone to medical school, you could have your choice of any hospital in the country instead of being stuck in Seattle, making your computer programs."

I clenched my teeth together because he still didn't really know what I did for a living. "I didn't want to be a doctor, dad. I know that's what you and mom wanted me to do, but I didn't. Blood grosses me out, and you know that's not even close to the grossest thing about the human body."

"You're right about that." He chuckled. My dad was a cardiothoracic surgeon, and I knew he'd seen some shit. Some clogged arteries and squirty blood shit that I tried to avoid thinking about at all costs. My stomach rolled.

"Besides, I like what I do. Have I told you about the new app that I'm-"

"Dinner's ready!" My mom popped into the room, and my dad hopped up out of his seat. He completely ignored what I was saying and followed her out of the room. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had no idea how I was going to make it through this without crying, throwing up or both.

Following my parents to the dining room, I breathed through my mouth to avoid smelling the food. I sank down into the chair next to my dad, who sat at the head of the table. My mom sat across from me. She stood and grabbed my plate, scooping food onto it for me. This was how she'd always been and probably always would be. I'd tried to tell her a thousand times I could put my own food on my plate, but it was like she didn't hear the words that came out of my mouth. Ever.

"Here," she said, sliding a heaping plate of food in front of me, and my eyes watered a little as I tried not to gag.

"Thanks, mom."

"Amara was telling me about her trip last week." I shot my dad a glare, but he ignored it.

My mom sat down, lifting her fork and spearing a bite of food. "Oh? And how are things in laid back Californialand?" It might not have sounded that bad if her tone wasn't completely mocking and snotty at the same time.

I pushed the food around my plate and hoped it looked like I was eating. "Good. Kennedy's store is doing so well, and Grayson's on the verge of opening his restaurant."

My mom huffed. "I don't know why those kids moved down there. They had so much going for them up here. Just think about what Grayson could have done if he'd gone to school for more than just cooking."

"Gray's opening his own restaurant, mom. That's a huge deal. He's won all sorts of awards and is doing really well for himself."

"And Kennedy. That husband of hers was on the cover of a magazine at the grocery store the other day again." She was on a roll now, and anything I'd say would just be ignored.

"Mmhmm." I grabbed my napkin and scooped some of my food into it, wrapping it up and holding it in my lap.

"Apparently, he's been cheating on her with some up and coming model." For someone who didn't approve of Zen or his fame, my mom spent a lot of time reading headlines and forming opinions.

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