Promising Young Woman

Out For Lunch

Cassandra walks into the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the air. Susan is sitting in the same chair she always sits in, eating the same runny eggs she always makes. Just like the other day, Stanley is reading the paper. However, there's something off with today's scene.

There's a large present in Cassie's seat, neatly wrapped in striped wrapping paper.

"What's this?"

It's as if she never spoke, as she's met with a deafening silence.

"Mom, what's this?"

Susan looks up from her plate. "What do you mean?"

"This gift."

Susan studies Cassandra—is she joking or not? "It's your birthday, Cassie."

Oh, shit. She completely forgot. "Oh...yeah."

Almost at the flip of a switch, Susan looks like she's on the verge of tears.

Stanley senses this, resting his paper on the seat next to him and consoling his wife of forty-something years. "Hey," he says gently, rubbing his hand on her back.

Susan sniffles. "What kind of person forgets their thirtieth birthday?"

"Sweetheart—"

Susan pulls away. "Don't, Stanley."

"I'm sorry, Mom," she says genuinely. "You know I'm terrible with dates. It's not a big deal."

Susan looks horrified—it's a bit dramatic. "Not a big deal? Not a big deal. You just forgot your birthday! Not a big deal. Okay! You don't want to have a party. You don't want to see her friends."

Cassie smiles and replies dryly, "You know I don't have any friends, Mom."

"Don't joke about it! Don't. Do you know how strange this is? You're still living a home,  working in that stupid coffee shop? You're out all hours of the night doing God only knows what. You don't have a boyfriend. You don't even have any friends!"

"Mom, you should have saved all this for my birthday card."

Stanley interjects, "Just let the kid celebrate how she wants to—"

"Celebrate! Is this a celebration?" Susan lets out a small cry. "My friends all ask about you and I don't know what to tell them. All their children are getting married, having kids. I don't know what happened." She breaks down into hysterics.

When she was little, Cassie was so carefree. Never thinking about anything before she did it. But she never really found herself in trouble. She always knew when too far was too far. Always had an understanding.

There's a tense silence in the air.

They all know what happened. They'll never forget what happened. Who could forget what happened?

Stanley looks at Cassie, a stern look on his face. "Why don't you open your gift, honey?"

She calmly opens her present. She opens it to find a large, pink suitcase.

They might as well have kicked her out of the house on her ass and locked the door behind her.

"Oh, I hope you like it." Susan says in between sniffles.

Cassie can't tell if she's joking or not. She can't think of anything to respond with. "It's nice."

———

"Well, that's direct," Gail says.

The coffee shop is quiet right now. No customers yet. Cassie and Gail unpack boxes from the previous night's shipment. Boxes of cups, napkins, paper towels, coffee blends fill the floor behind the counter.