Chapter 3

3: 3

Over the weekend, the family threw a belated returning-the-principal dinner for my brother.

In Greenhollow, when a child turned eighteen, you had to feed the elders and tell the ancestors before he counted as a grown man.

Aunt Denise Fox, my uncle, my youngest uncle, all of them came.

Incense burned in the front room, red cloth was tied around the doorframe, and the table was packed with people.

Everyone simply assumed this dinner was for my brother's college admissions next year.

As for me, my job was to cook and clear the bowls.

Sitting next to Grandpa, my brother was praised until his face went red.

Grandma dug a red envelope out of her pocket and pressed it into his hand.

"My grandson's got college admissions next year. Grandma's rooting for you! Get into a good school and make the Fox name proud!"

My brother said thank you, Grandma, nice and sweet.

Aunt Denise turned to me with a smile. "And Gladdie? How'd your admissions go this year? Where'd you apply?"

Before I could open my mouth, my mother cut in.

"Don't even get me started. This girl doesn't know any better."

She set her chopsticks down on the table and complained, "She just had to pick an out-of-state school. Do you know that tuition's tens of thousands a year, and that's before living expenses."

"We can barely put her brother through school as it is, and there she goes, flying off as far as she can, not a shred of feeling for us."

The way Aunt Denise looked at me changed.

"What does a girl need all that schooling for? Find a steady job here, marry young, that's what matters."

My youngest uncle chimed in too. "Exactly. Look at the Chavez girl next door. Community-college degree, works at a bank, married a factory owner last year. Now that's a good life."

Every eye in the room settled on me.

The incense smoke drifted up and stung my eyes sour.

My brother stood with his teacup and, following the village custom, went around and served each elder a cup of the returning-the-principal tea.

When he finished, he said with a little grin, "My sister's just read too many books. Got her head in the clouds."

He said it lightly, like it was nothing.

The table broke into agreeing laughter.

I kept my head down over my rice and said nothing.

There was a time a scene like this would have had me smiling, explaining myself.

Today I didn't want to. Nothing I said got through to them anyway, did it?

A few cups of liquor in, my father's face went red, and he suddenly slammed his chopsticks down on the table.

"I'll say it right here! This girl's got no place in her heart for this family! Eighteen years we raised her, and we raised an ingrate!"

My mother's eyes reddened and the tears started.

"Up before dawn, working late to put her through school, and she'll fight me over her brother's tutoring money. She's trying to drive me into the grave…"

Grandma's face darkened as she listened. "Gladdie, is what your mother said true? You begrudge your brother his tutoring money?"

I put my bowl down.

"That was my money."

"Family doesn't split things into yours and mine!" He slapped the table, turned, and walked to the cabinet in the living room.

He pulled a sheet of paper out of the drawer.

A4, printed.

The title read: Voluntary Waiver of Family Property and Shop Earnings.

"Since you think this family's done you wrong, fine. Right here, in front of everyone, sign it."

"From now on the house, the savings, none of it has a single cent to do with you."

The relatives traded looks for a beat, then started working on me.

Aunt Denise said, "Gladdie, your dad's just talking in anger. Hurry up and apologize, bow your head, and this all blows over."

My uncle said, "Quit being so stubborn. What's a girl doing fighting with her own family?"

My brother stood behind our father, head down, sipping his tea, and didn't say one word for me.

So they'd been waiting for this day all along.

I held the pen, my hand shaking hard, and in the end I still signed my name, stroke by stroke.

My mother froze a moment, then slid into a wounded expression. "Look at you. We're family. Is this really necessary…"

I turned and went back to the storage room.

People in Greenhollow say the ancestors see everything you tell them.

But all the ancestors filling that room saw was my brother becoming a man. Not me being driven out of this family.

I sat on the edge of the bed and held it in a long time, then bent forward, buried my face in my knees, and cried.

For as long as I could remember, whenever I cried my mother would call me bad luck.

When my chest ached from it, I took out my phone and sent my homeroom teacher a message:

"Teacher Lane, if my college acceptance letter comes, please keep it safe for me."