AC/DC's Highway to Hell sounds through the speakers of the car and I turn it up letting the tunes reverberate at a higher decibel because it is oh so fitting for where I'm heading, furthermore, I start to regret my decision and wish I had just taken my mom's offer on Uber Eats.
Stopped at the black wrought iron gates I type in the code to the gated community of my parents' neighborhood. Slowly it creeps open and I drive through, tapping my fingertips on the leather of the steering wheel mimicking the beat of the drums. The most spectacular view invades my eyes as it does every time I come to my parents' house, beautiful Lake Washington.
Ma and Dad's house is straight down and at the very end of the street, lakefront, lucky bastards. The white vinyl with blue shutters is in my line of sight now and my stomach twists because I can see Nicole's red Honda in the driveway. While I don't hate my sister, I don't particularly like her though either. I park my white Audi S7 behind Nicole's car and turn the engine off. Ma has noticed my arrival because the blue front door of their slightly over-the-top home opens and she appears.
As I stand corrected, Mom is unnecessarily dressed up. Her Carmel hair is perfectly curled in loose waves bouncing at her shoulders as she greets me from afar with her white smile waving at me from the open doorway. I exit the car, slamming the door a little harder than I intend, and walk the short distance to her. She embraces me in a hug and the familiar soothing scent of lavender vanilla envelopes me. She kisses my temple before releasing me and I'm quite certain she left deep rose colored lipstick as a souvenir. The smell of lasagna permeates the air, my belly reacting with a grumble. I internally scold my stomach for such dramatic cues in front of mom but thankfully she didn't hear, one less worried lecture to deal with.
I hear distant chatter coming from the kitchen which would indicate the besties are in there.
"Hey Dad," I say as I enter the extravagant kitchen, seriously though, it should be in a magazine. High cathedral ceilings with hickory and chestnut hues of exposed wood beams, matching hickory cabinetry line the sandy colored walls and the dark wood floors give the perfect contrast to the pale marble countertops and island that Dad and Nicole are sitting at.
"Jessica, it's been a while, how's work?" He asks. Not how are you daughter just how's work?
I love my dad but considering he's a pediatrician he tends to lack in loving parenting skills. Dad has always been the "tough love" type of parent and Mom the opposite, she's the coddler so I suppose with both of them they pick up where the other lacks.
Faking a happy smile, "It's fine, good, how's work with you guys?"
I come from a line of healthcare workers. Dad and Nicole work together and while Mom quit not just the field but work altogether to become a stay-at-home mom when I was five. She used to be a pediatric intensive care nurse. Back in the day dad was a pediatric surgeon, and mom a nurse at the same hospital. This is where their love story began. Give or take ten years ago Dad left the hospital and opened a family practice office of his own, specializing in peds, and employs four other doctors. Nicole is also a nurse but currently juggling classes to become a doctor, specialty unknown. While Nicole is not a nurse for my dad because yeah, ethical disasters, she works under Dr. Peterson, my dad's close friend and partner. Nonetheless, Dad and Nicole work in close proximity on a daily basis, bringing their previously close relationship to nearly being attached at the hip now.
Mom speaks up, flowery oven mitts covering her hands as a pan of lasagna lies in the grip, "Sit at the table, dinner is done."
Relieved to escape work convo I take a seat at the oversized wood slab table and the others shortly follow suit. Nicole takes the seat across from me, gently and annoyingly swiping her perfect chocolate brown locks over her shoulder. She straightens her posture for elegance making me acutely aware of my slouching. Her big brown doe eyes set on mine and judgment radiates in the four feet between us.
Let's be frank, Nicole is a condescending bitch to me because only god knows why. Unbeknownst, we're competitive in every form of the word. We clash in every possible way. Golden child, while I hate to admit is gorgeous and always has been. To the rest of the world, she's God's gift to this earth, beautiful, intelligent, go-getter, volunteers, and regularly attends charities. She's as sweet as apple pie to everyone but me. To me, it's all a facade.
"It's unfortunate Dylan couldn't join us tonight," Mom says to Nicole surely noticing the tension between us and trying to cut through it with her statement.
Cold silver gripped in hand, I stab at the lasagna on my plate, mom's focus zeroed in waiting for me to take a bite as if life depends on it.
Mouth now full of saucy lasagna, mom visibly releases the breath, it looks like she's been holding for seventeen years. Gesturing to the room around us, fork still in hand and mouth still partially full of food, "Yeah it's a shame he couldn't be here, he really would've livened this whole place up."
Let's be real, Dylan is a fucking dork. While he is nice and courteous he's a total bore. After three years together I still don't know what Nicole sees in the guy. As the son of Mayor Weston, he fits the role to perfection. Dylan is not unattractive by any means but it's almost as if he fights it. His sandy blonde hair is always styled the same, parted way too far over, aging him by at least ten years. He's always in khaki slacks and some sort of polo. The guy is so vanilla, probably partly why Nicole is such a bitch, hasn't had anything other than missionary sex in years.
Nicole glares at me, practically seething.
"Oops, sorry did I hit a nerve? And you should know better than to scowl like that, it'll create wrinkles," I warn.
Subconsciously I'm sure, her face relaxes, although there's no concrete evidence of my statement actually being true, in her mind, even if there's a percentage of truth behind it she won't risk it.
"Why are you so miserable? I think you're just jealous of what Dylan and I have."
Laughable really.
She continues, "When was the last time you even had a boyfriend? Don't you think you're being a little naive Jessica? Holding out for someone who barely notices your existence? Grow up Jessica, It's pathetic. Why don't you stick your finger down your throat again, maybe if you lose more weight he'll finally notice you."
I regret how my body reacts to her statements, visibly betraying myself as I cowered further into my seat.
Retorting to my last question and annunciating every word she speaks through gritted white teeth, "Sorry, did I hit a nerve?"
She did.
Dad slams both of his fists against the wood, causing a shockwave of clatter from the dishes and silverware. He stands to his feet exuding attention to himself. The three of us obeying his silent command.
"That is enough!" He points to Nicole and me.
Dad's already prominent wrinkles that line his forehead deepen, "Your mother worked hard at this meal and put a lot of effort into making it perfect and you are ruining it, you will not disrespect her any longer! Knock it off already with this childish behavior!"
We all stay silently stunned as Dad takes his seat again, rolling his white dress shirt to his elbow all flustered. I always secretly hope he'll spill something on his crisp clean expensive clothing to show a glimmer of imperfection but as always, it never happens.
"Sorry Daddy," Nicole pouts.
Vile.
Mere seconds ago she lectured me to grow up and now daddy's little princess is acting like a toddler. As expected Dad takes the bait, squeezing her hand as an acceptance of her phony apology.
I roll my eyes in annoyance having just about had enough of the act. Dad notices my irritation, "Something you need to say, Jessica?"
I'm about to just let it all go but fuck it, the door is open so why not, I straighten my back and turn to mom, "Ma, I appreciate all the hard work you put into tonight but don't you think these over-the-top dinners are a little much?"
She puts her fork down and pats the side of her beautifully shaped lips with a napkin giving me her full attention. She doesn't say anything so I continue.
"It's just us, why do we have to get all dressed up, sit properly, and act like acquaintances. Why can't we wear sweats, have a frozen pizza, and just watch a movie?"
Dad chuckles at the absurdity, Mom's blue eyes go glassy and Nicole looks like she has a stick up her ass.
"I..uh.." Mom starts but Dad takes over.
"Edith, allow me," Dad says rid of any emotion, shocker.
"Jessica, if you have an issue with our family dinners and if it doesn't align with your preference then you do not need to attend." The coolness in his tone isn't missed.
"Charles," mom pleads for him to stop.
I stand up from the chair I barely warmed, "Okay."
I release the strap of my brown faux leather purse from the chair and slide it over my head as it lands on my hip. I turn my back to my stale family and my mom frantically stands up, "Jessie!"
I turn myself in her direction waiting to hear her out, "You barely touched your food, please just sit and eat."
I shake my head at her request and she proposes an idea, "At least let me pack you some leftovers."
Honestly, would I love a corner piece of leftover lasagna, fuck yeah I would but you know what I really want to leave with instead? Is whatever left over piece of dignity I have left after tonight's shenanigans.
And so I do just that.