The Family That Never Saved Me a Seat at the Table, I’m Not Saving a Spot for Either Chapter 02

The Family That Never Saved Me a Seat at the Table, I’m Not Saving a Spot for Either Chapter 02

“Clara’s done. Go wash the dishes.”

Not a question. An order.

Exhaustion hit me so hard it felt like every word cost the last of my strength. “I’m tired. Can’t she do it herself?”

Before Clara could answer, Ethan jumped in. “When have you ever seen her wash a dish?”

I lowered my eyes. Didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

Mom’s face hardened. “Why are you so lazy? I have to beg you to wash a few plates?”

Even Dad, who usually stayed completely out of family drama, decided to weigh in. “Your mother works hard every day cooking for you all. She doesn’t complain. And you can’t even wash a couple of dishes without making a scene?”

Mom jumped in fast when she heard Dad’s voice go sharp. “Okay, okay—your father’s upset. It’s a couple of dishes. It’s not gonna kill you. You’ve been sitting around all day.”

She even winked at me, signaling me to back down and not ruin the family harmony.

I stared at the four of them, standing opposite me.

In that moment, they were a united family—against me. I was the outsider.

They didn’t give me a chance to argue. They just left their plates on the table and gathered in the living room, excitedly discussing what to get Ethan and Clara for back-to-school.

Ethan was a junior in college, Clara a junior in high school. And me, a college freshman, was the least important person here.

I went to the table and gathered the dishes. Ice-cold water from the faucet and hot tears hit my hands at the same time.

It took everything in me to shove the ache back down.

Outside the kitchen, their cheerful planning continued. Ethan wanted new sneakers. Clara wanted a new tablet.

I heard Dad hesitate. “That’s gonna eat up pretty much the whole budget. The back-to-school fund was meant to cover all three of you.”

Clara let out a disappointed whine.

Without a second of hesitation, Mom said, “Harper’s working a summer job. She can buy her own stuff.”

The living room went quiet for a long moment before Dad agreed. “Fine. We’ll make it up to her next semester.”

But what Dad didn’t know was that I had never received a back-to-school shopping spree.

Because my “next semester” never came.

I’d long gotten used to those empty promises. And whenever I complained, they’d just say I was being too petty.

I didn’t storm out. I pulled out my phone and checked my balance. Eight hundred dollars. It wasn’t just a number. It was my escape fund.

I dried my hands, walked out of the kitchen, and met Mom’s eyes. I didn’t look away. I stared straight at her and asked, “Mom, can you save a plate for me tomorrow?”

My fists clenched. I’d braced myself for a refusal, or a random scolding.

But she just laughed lightly, like she was indulging a ridiculous child. “We save a plate for you every day.”

“I mean like today.”

Her smile froze for a split second, but she nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”

A tiny, foolish spark of hope flared to life in my chest. Maybe Mom was just careless. With me working late so often, maybe she hadn’t paid attention to the details.

I told myself that, and the next day at my summer job, I felt almost giddy. I couldn’t stop smiling, to the point my coworker teased me about having a new boyfriend.

The second my shift ended, I rushed home. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst. I pushed open the door, didn’t even say hi, and made a beeline for the dining table.

Mom looked at me, amused. “Look, I saved you a plate. You’re acting like you’ve never seen food before.”

Then I saw the table, and my smile died.