Everyone in My Family Remembered What I Did, Except Me Chapter 01

Everyone in My Family Remembered What I Did, Except Me Chapter 01

My parents loved to eat, so I made sure they could.

Every month, I sent them $2,500 for food.

Six months ago, they got into the restaurants everybody was posting about.

I raised the food money to $4,000.

A month ago, my mother, Sylvia Shaw, called me, and there was something apologetic in her voice.

“Maddie, could you bump the food money up a little more?”

“Those places charge a fortune and the portions are tiny. Your father and I never leave full.”

I didn’t think twice about it. I raised it to $5,000.

Not long after that, they came back asking for another increase, and the reason was the same. They still weren’t getting enough to eat.

Something about it felt wrong.

I was afraid something had happened, and they needed money urgently and were keeping it from me.

I booked a flight home that same day.

I’d barely walked into their complex when I spotted two familiar figures.

I jogged to catch up with them.

Then they turned around, and I froze where I stood.

“Dad! Mom! What happened to you?”

*****

Both of them were gaunt, and their skin had gone a sallow yellow.

Each of them was carrying a plastic bag stuffed with wilted, half-rotten produce.

“What are you doing digging this out of a bin?”

“I send you plenty of money for food. Why on earth are you eating this?”

My chest ached, and my voice shook when I got the words out.

They stood there stiffly, and their eyes were full of panic.

“Maddie, what are you doing back here out of nowhere?”

“I was worried about you, obviously.”

“You kept telling me you weren’t getting enough to eat, so I assumed something was wrong.”

“Oh, so this is your daughter?”

Before I could finish, a neighbor passing by cut me off.

She looked me up and down.

There was accusation in her expression.

“I don’t mean to stick my nose in.”

“Your parents worked hard to raise you. You ought to treat them better.”

I let out a long breath and put on a polite smile while I explained.

I told her they got $5,000 a month for food.

There had to be a misunderstanding somewhere.

“$5,000? You have to be joking.”

“Every vendor at the farmers market around here knows your parents. They come by every single day to pick through the discard bins.”

“Look at them. Look how thin they are.”

I didn’t argue. I pulled out my phone and showed her the transfer records.

The neighbor’s face went stiff.

Her eyes moved between my parents and me.

I looked at them too, confused.

I caught the two of them trading a glance.

When they turned back to me, their faces were full of conflict and a kind of pity I couldn’t read at all.

Sylvia Shaw wiped her dirty hands on her pant leg and reached over to take my arm.

“Maddie, let’s talk about this at home.”

I was uncomfortable standing out there, too.

I took the bags out of their hands, and I walked fast toward the apartment.

Once we were inside, I set the produce down in the kitchen.

Then I opened the refrigerator.

There was a dish of pickles gone black and two dried-out dinner rolls in there, and that was all.

I looked around the kitchen.

Every one of those supplements and nice little snacks they’d shown me on video calls was gone.

The questions in my head kept stacking up like a tower.

I couldn’t hold it in. I turned around to go find them.

But the living room was empty.

There was a low, rustling conversation coming out of the bedroom.

“Maybe we should just tell her. We can’t keep this up forever, and she’s going to find out sooner or later.”

“Let’s wait a while longer. If we tell her now, I don’t think she can handle it.”

“It doesn’t matter if we go without. Let’s just wait.”

I stopped where I was.

So they were hiding something from me after all.

I shoved the door open and looked at the two of them, and they both jumped.

“What exactly are the two of you keeping from me?”

My father, Gordon Shaw, opened his mouth and closed it again while he searched for an excuse.

“Dad, don’t even try to lie to me.”

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll call my brother. He can tell me just as well.”

Sylvia shot to her feet at that and hurried over to stop me.

“No, no, no. Maddie, don’t call your brother.”

“He isn’t well, and he’s buried at work. Don’t put this on him too.”

She let out a heavy sigh, and it was a long time before she finally spoke.

“It isn’t that we have to have more food money.”

“Your father and I can go without. We’ll survive.”

“But if something is going wrong for you, you have to tell us.”

That made no sense to me.

I was the one who should’ve been asking that question.

$5,000 a month for food, and they still weren’t full. They were skin and bone and picking through discard bins.

They were the ones hiding something.

But when she heard me say it, Sylvia’s eyes went red.

“Maddie, let’s not talk about this.”

“You do send us $5,000 every month.”

“But every time, you take all of it right back.”