Behind Closed Doors (Erik Menendez)

Seven

That Friday, the four of us sit at the dinner table eating my mom's famous salmon, a recipe passed down from her grandmother. It's my favorite thing that she makes, and my father's. Sarah isn't huge on fish, but eats it anyway.

Conversation focuses on many different things, from Sarah's sophomore year at school to my senior year to current events. Eventually, we reach a standstill when my mother asks my father about work. He finishes chewing his salmon, a smug smile on his face as he gently places his fork and knife down. He looks up at us all, that smile never faltering.

"There's been a change in plans," he says, pausing dramatically. You could hear a pin drop among the silence, my sister, mother and I waiting tensely. "I've been offered a new job."

The three of us erupt in confused congratulations, quiet and hesitant "wow!"s and "oh!"s, wondering what job this could possibly be.

"Wow..." my mom says, sounding pretty taken aback. "You've been at GE for so long. Where are you going?"

His smile changes to a mix of pride and worry, preparing us for what he'll say next. "You guys are gonna think, 'what the heck?!'. Well, I'd been contacted by that Jose Menendez." Immediately my smile drops and I feel Sarah kick me under the table. "He told me that he'd heard great things about what I've done at GE over the years and wants me to come over to Live Entertainment. Look, I know it's a completely different world, but it's all just business. He made me a great offer... I'll be making twice as much as I do now."

My mom leans over and places a big kiss on his cheek, and he smiles proudly. "Oh, Pat, that is great news! I'm so happy for you."

"That's wonderful, daddy!" Sarah says, touching his hand across the table and taking a quick glance at me. I'm at a total loss for words, but manage a smile.

"You've earned it," I say. My poor father deserves much more of a reaction from me, but I just can't fake it enough.

He goes on to tell us more about how it all happened, and how shocked and confused he was. He said Jose is very convincing and a smooth-talker, but also a big aggressive. However, he said that the position Jose described seemed perfect for him, especially considering the money. It was almost a no-brainer. We all listen intently as my father describes Jose waltzing confidently into his office the other day, a tall man with an intimidating aura, but a charming smile. "A thick accent, too. He's Cuban, you know."

It's an intriguing story until he utters the words: "dinner party." Sarah kicks me again, harder this time. "He wants us all there, he said he's eager to meet the family. And, you know, it was even funnier when he found out that our houses are right behind one another!"

"My, I forgot about that! How wonderful, though. You're friends with his son, aren't you, Jo?" My mom turns to me before sipping her wine. I shrug and cut eye contact.

"I mean, kind of, not exactly. We know each other." I look up and catch Sarah's gaze.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get to know each other more tomorrow night. Both celebrating your wonderful, hard-working dads." She smiles warmly at my dad and plants yet another kiss on his cheek.

The following night, I stare at myself in the mirror until it all becomes blurry. My brain and my eyes work together to hone in on every single detail about myself, critiquing every inch. I made sure to curl my hair perfectly, very loose curls with the adequate amount of volume up top. My makeup is elegant and natural, my ears donning small, chunky gold hoops. A powder blue a-line dress hugs my waist snugly, a square neckline revealing the collarbones I like to proudly display. White, classy pumps make my feet ache with each step but I suck up the pain.