Chapter 6 - The Uninvited Guests
Two days later, at 10:00 AM on a busy Thursday morning, the bell above the front door of Ruth’s Bakery chimed.
I was behind the counter, piping meringue onto lemon tarts, when the atmosphere in the front of the shop shifted completely. The hum of morning conversation died down.
I looked up.
Standing near the pastry case was my mother, Diane, my father, Gerald, and my sister, Clarissa.
They looked terrible.
My mother had aged ten years; her eyes were sunken, her clothes slightly worn. My father looked bent over, staring at the floor with his hands shoved deep into an old windbreaker. Clarissa was holding her toddler on her hip, wearing stained sweatpants and an expression of pure, desperate entitlement.
My staff looked at me nervously.
I set my piping bag down, wiped my hands on my white apron, and walked around the counter.
I didn't run. I didn't tremble. I stood six feet away from them.
"This is a place of business," I said, my voice carry clear across the quiet shop. "You need to leave."
My mother took a step forward, her lower lip trembling, pulling a crumpled handkerchief from her purse.
"Athena... please," she whimpered, trying to sound frail. "We didn't know where else to go. You blocked our numbers."
"Because I told you I was done," I replied.
"Athena, look at your nephew," Clarissa snapped, thrusting her toddler forward like a shield. "He’s going to be homeless in forty-eight hours! Is that what you want? You’re sitting here in your fancy bakery selling ten-dollar cupcakes, and your own nephew doesn't have a roof over his head!"
"Clarissa," I said, looking her dead in the eye. "You are thirty years old. Where is your husband?"
Clarissa’s face turned bright red. "Brad is... he’s between opportunities right now!"
"Brad is a lazy grifter who hasn't worked a full year since you married him," I said without an ounce of hesitation. "And you have spent your entire life expecting everyone else to pay for your choices."
My father finally spoke, his voice hoarse and quiet. "Athena... please. Just $50,000. To save the family home. The house you grew up in."
"The house where I lived in the room beside the loud water heater while Clarissa got the sunny bedroom?" I asked him. "The house where you sat quietly and watched Mom bleed me dry for eight years?"
Gerald flinched as if I had struck him.
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"Athena, we made mistakes!" my mother sobbed, stepping closer. "We know we should have gone to your wedding! We were wrong! We admit it! Please... we are begging you. You’re our daughter!"
"I wasn't your daughter when I was standing in my wedding dress alone," I said, the words cutting through the air like a steel blade. "I was 'her older sister.' You made your choice. You chose her birthday party. Go ask her birthday party for $50,000."
