Spin

Thirty-Two

[RORY]

"It's so rad. She's always wanted to be a chef and she applied to this local program in Columbia, got in, and the rest is history. I flew down for a few days after Christmas to check it out, beautiful country. But yeah, I told her my daughters were coming by for dinner and she was kind enough to whip us up something on the fly. Totally sweet of her."

I avoided eye contact with Cal across the table, nodding my head as my dad rambled on and on, per usual. My chewing was labored as I impatiently watched him grab his empty plate, excusing himself back to the kitchen to get seconds.

"This is..."

"Bad, so bad," I responded immediately, spitting the food into my napkin. "He's fucking her, he has to be."

"No, I don't think–"

"Cal," I smirked, immune to any counter argument she had come up with in her head. My dad could have blood on his hands and a dead body in his trunk, and she would have some sort of rationale as to why he was innocent. "I'll bet my life savings."

"You'll go broke."

"Ask him."

"No."

"Ask him, I dare you."

"Ask me what?"

Cal offered me an unimpressed look before directing her attention to my dad as he took his seat at the head of the table.

"Did you know Rory is having an existential crisis?"

It was my turn to be annoyed, glaring across the table as my dad looked between the two of us expectantly. I eventually set my fork down, thankful to keep my mouth busy – no matter the difficult topic – with anything besides whatever was sitting on my plate.

"I am not. I'm just in a bit of a creative rut."

"That bitch of a boss giving you a hard time again?"

"That bitch of a boss is an extremely successful and inspirational female in an executive position in a traditionally male-dominated industry," I responded monotonously before nodding my head curtly. "But yes."

"Why don't you quit?"

"That's what I'm saying," Cal chimed in, pushing a piece of broccoli around on her plate. "I think you get off on complaining about it."

"I think your hair looks bad curled like that."

"Girls," my dad calmly scolded, Cal giving me a snide grin. "More love, less hate, makes the world go 'round. But your sister has a point, Rory. Maybe it is time to call it a day at SoundSystem."

"I know this may be a foreign concept to you both, but I can't just up and quit. I have bills to pay, I'm trying to make a name for myself. Until I earn that respect on my own, I highly doubt running from Marisol is going to do me any favors."

"Well, fine then," my dad responded, chewing his food slowly and swallowing before pointing his fork at me. "What are you listening to right now? Maybe that's your problem."

Even I was a bit perplexed, realizing I didn't have a response. I'd been so caught up in my own world that the one thing that had previously been my everything, had slipped through the cracks. I blinked at my dad, hating that he was right.

"Do you have any recommendations?"

He motioned with his head towards my lap, silently encouraging me to my phone.

"Four Treasons, Sad Teacher and Grim. I think they're all somewhat in your vernacular but have something I've not found anywhere else. I'm disappointed in the scene these days but find solace in the underdogs."