The weekend flew by too fast, and my Sunday Scaries are starting to kick in. The only good part about Sundays are dinners with the fam because we pick up loads of food from my favorite Mexican restaurant, Calle's.
"Remi!" the hostess Paula greets me as soon as I walk in. I've known her ever since I was little.
"Hi, Paula! I'm a little early for pick-up, so no rush if the food's not ready yet."
"Let me go check on it for you. I'll be right back."
Paula returns holding two plastic bags, one in each grip. She sets them on the counter and rings everything up.
"$102.09 is your total, Remi."
I hand her dad's credit card, which he lent me, and she swipes it through the machine.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but the transaction didn't go through. Do you have another card that I could try?"
I scrunch my forehead together, confused. I've never had a problem with dad's card before.
"Could you try it again, Paula?" I politely ask.
"Of course, sweetie," she says with a sympathetic smile.
She runs the card through again, but shakes her head. "Nope, not working."
I reach for my wallet, which only contains a few dollars bills, some coins, and my debit card. I reach for the card, removing it from its slot and hand it to her.
"Try this one," I tell her.
She takes it from my grip and swipes it through the machine, looking at the screen, waiting to see if it worked. "Ah, there we go," she says, and my tense body relaxes.
She hands me back my debit card and asks me to sign the tablet with my signature.
"Thank you, Remi. Tell mom and dad I say hi."
"I will," I say, grabbing the bags from the counter. "Have a good night, Paula."
I drop the bags of food in my bike basket and pedal my way home.
The entire way back all I can think about is the fact that my dad's credit card just got declined; that I paid for dinner with my work savings. I don't mind paying, I'm happy to contribute, but I feel bad for my dad, and I can't help but wonder when he's going to start being honest with me about how bad things really are.
"I'm home," I shout as I push the front door open with my knee, balancing the heavy bags in my grip. "Mom, dad?"
"In here," mom calls from the kitchen.
I walk in and immediately drop the bags down on the kitchen aisle.
"Thanks for picking up dinner, sweetheart," she tells me.
"Not a problem."
I take a seat on the counter stool and dad walks in, looking down at his phone before picking his head up.
"Hi, honey," he greets me, planting a kiss to my forehead.
"Hi," I smile, handing him his credit card. "Here you go."
"Thank you, dear. Did you get a receipt by any chance?"
"I didn't. I'm sorry," I lie. Because I did. But the receipt says that dinner was paid for with my debit card, and I don't want my dad to know. Otherwise, he'll feel terrible.
At dinner, I stay awfully quiet, even though my mind's racing. I understand that my dad wants to protect me and my mom, but keeping things from us isn't helping the situation. We're a family, a team. One of us struggles, we all struggle. But I can't help my dad if he won't let me in.
I give him another shot at opening up to me. Mom had to leave dinner a little early to take on her night shift, so dad and I are sitting out back noshing on a homemade cake that mom baked earlier today.
"This is delicious," dad says as he bites into the piece that's on his fork. I haven't touched my slice yet. I can't when I'm too focused on other things.
"Dad," I begin, and he turns to look at me. I reach for my back pocket and take out the dinner bill from Calle's, sliding it towards him.
"What's this?" he asks as soon as he picks it up. I don't say anything and instead let his eyes do the scanning. "Is this for tonight's dinner?"
"Yeah," I answer.
"I thought you said you didn't get the receipt," he says as his eyes continue to skim. "Do we always spend this much at Calle's?"
"Mhm."
He picks his head up to look at me. "Did you pay for this?"
"Yeah," I hesitantly whisper.
My dad turns flustered, rubbing his cheek with his palm. "I'm sorry, honey, I thought I gave you my credit card."
I pause for just a few seconds because it pains me to be truthful when I know that my honesty is just going to embarrass him.
"You did," I admit.
"Oh. Then why'd you pay for it?"
I don't respond. I don't know how to. So, I just look at him, hoping that my eyes will explain everything. He looks at me, trying to understand, and after several seconds, it finally clicks.
"Oh," he states, humiliation in his tone. "I'm so sorry, Remi."
I immediately reach for his hand in an effort to console him. "Dad, why are you sorry?"
He drops his head down, holding the sides of it with his hands, and my heart breaks when I see a tear fall from his eye.
"I just feel like I'm failing my family more and more as the days go on."
"Dad..."
"I'm so sorry, Remi," he repeats.
"You have nothing to be sorry for." I hold onto his hand even harder. "I love you."
He finally picks his head up, tears streaming down his face, but I get a hint of a smile.
"I love you, too," he says.
YOU ARE READING
Under the Stars (Sequel to Across the Pond)
Romance*The sequel to Across the Pond* Brooks Caldwell is the bane of my existence. Has been ever since I've known him. And, of course, luck would have it that I'm forced to spend my entire summer in his presence when I'm offered a job at the posh country...
