served precisely at seven-thirty on the dot. That was the agreed-on time that worked for all parties involved. Eating together was a tradition that allowed for everyone to recount their days, fill the family in on upcoming events, vacations, new projects or even the weather. Dave knew Samantha hated these dinners more than everyone else put together, but his twin wasn’t too far behind her.
Harmony was a sullen woman, just as she had been as a child. She often complained to Dave about how he had been given all the good genes. Harmony always played with her food. She ate like a bird and probably weighed as little as one. Dave watched as she picked at one single pea despondently, her hair hanging limply around her face.
She’d spent most of her life indoors, and occasionally locked behind them. But self-isolation was natural for his sister. She was sensitive to even the most basic emotions with a neurotic nature that convinced his parents that she was inescapably possessed. Dave stood up for her over the years, attempted to educate his parents on the importance of mental health and the possible conditions that Harmony showed signs of exhibiting. They were reluctant for her to go to therapy. June continued to insist that what her daughter really needed was to speak with God. Georgette intervened at this and insisted that she would personally cover the cost of Harmony’s medical bills. His parents eased up after that, but only a little.
Dave sat enjoying his salmon as he listened to Georgette rattle away about her day of rescuing women and children before turning her attention to her daughter. Samantha was surprisingly animated this evening. She was smirking quite a bit too. Dave knew what a smile like that meant—he’d seen the exact same one playing around Desiree’s mouth at work yesterday after she successfully subdued an upset client. It was victory.
“How did that test go, babes?” Georgette asked as she refilled Sam’s wine glass.
Drinking was a regular thing in their home. Georgie insisted that if Samantha were allowed to drink now, she would be infinitely more well-adjusted for when she went off to college.
“Aced it,” Sam gloated as she twirled the wine glass around, grinning at the disapproving, though silent, mouths of June and August.
His parents made it very clear to him on several occasions that they worried about such a disturbed child. Dave promised them she was mature for her age—Sam gave them no reason to worry about her behavior. Dave couldn’t help but feel as if his stepdaughter might do well with a bit more structure, but he wasn’t about to challenge his wife’s ability to raise a daughter that she’d taken care of long before him.
Georgette beamed with pride. “Course you did, my love. You and those big beautiful brains of yours!”
June cleared her throat, unmistakably needing to express herself post-haste. Dave’s mother was unable to stop talking unless she was asleep or in church. Even during the latter, she would still sing, recite and pray.
“Work was extremely busy today,” she began with her ever-present sweet yet softly patronizing tone.
Georgette raised her eyebrows and exchanged a look of mock surprise with Harmony, who snorted into her water glass. Georgie was the only one who could make his sister laugh and coax her out of her shell. Dave loved her a little bit more for that.
June droned on about her “job.” Doing the Lord’s work—as she put it. August sat beside her, nodding at everything she said as he shoveled food into his mouth at an alarming rate, moaning and groaning with every bite.
His father was a large and sedentary man, only one rib eye away from needing a new stent. Dave attempted to cook healthy meals every night—especially when his parents were over. But he couldn’t control what they did when he wasn’t around. It was naïve for Dave to consider that his sister might show an interest in his parent’s health—that relationship, he feared, was passing the point of being repaired. If only his parents could listen to Harmony, try to understand her, instead of shoving their religion down her throat and choking her with it.
Georgette privately referred to his mother’s place of employment as a “Jesus Pop-up Shop.” But every day, whether rain or snow or the heat of the baking sun, June stood by her little booth in the center of downtown with her religious pamphlets. Offering guidance and an ear to all who needed protection and love, all but her own daughter—at least that’s how Harmony saw it.
“Dave,” Dave’s attention turned back to his wife, who’d just cut across his mother’s monologue, “What have you got going on this weekend, darling?”
Before Dave could respond, June jumped at the question. “He’s coming to ten a.m. Mass with August and I, aren’t you? Of course, all of you are invited to attend, as well.” June reiterated this little speech at least once a week. It was usually on Pizza Fridays.
June and August attended church daily, but Dave usually joined them on either Saturday or Sunday, out of respect. He himself was not particularly religious. It was probably because it was all he and his sister ever heard about growing up. God was life, and in a way, his parents overdosed their children on the subject, in some ways abandoned them for their beloved savior. Harmony used to say as a child how jealous she was of Him.
Dave just preferred not to think about it altogether. If God was real, great, and if he wasn’t, that was fine too. There was nothing Dave could do to control that. He only controlled his own actions, which allowed him to live a guilt-free and happy life. He didn’t need church, but it made his parents happy and so he complied. Relationships were all about balance, the give and take. If those requirements shifted out of fairness, that was when things could deteriorate.
No one else at the table would set foot in a church, even if they were being held at knifepoint.
“I was thinking about painting this weekend,” Harmony piped up.
“That’s wonderful, Har!” Georgie looked genuinely excited at this news.
“My therapist says it’s good for calming the mind. Focusing.”
June made a face at this. Georgie frowned but leaned forward, encouragingly,
“Is this the same one you’ve been seeing regularly?”
Harmony nodded. “For six weeks now, twice a week. She’s absolutely wonderful. I feel like I’m actually starting to—”
“—David what did you say you were doing this weekend?” June asked loudly.
Harmony’s face went red as she slowly receded back into herself. Before Georgette could say whatever was likely to ruin the rest of the meal, Dave cut in.
“Harmony, please, finish what you were saying,” he encouraged, frowning at his mother, who looked anything but contrite.
His sister shook her head vigorously with denial and returned to her pea, now stabbing it with resentment. He heard his wife huff impatiently beside him.
“To answer your question, yes, Mom, I’m coming to Mass with you. Like I always do.”
“Like he always does,” Georgette reiterated, glaring daggers at the pleased and plump smile smacked across her mother-in-law’s selfish face.
Dave sighed to himself. He tried to please everyone, he really did. It was one hour out of his weekend that he didn’t mind giving up. Sam was usually out with her friends on the weekends, or cooped up on the third floor writing music and banging away on her instruments. There wasn’t one she couldn’t pick up and not master.
And Georgie worked all of Saturday and most of Sunday. The only time she really took for herself was an hour here or there for ‘tennis,’ which she’d been trying to pluck up the courage to start. She never played any sport, never even went to school but had private tutors instead. His wife spoke five languages fluently but was absolutely terrified of learning a team game. Dave encouraged her to live outside of her comfort zone. He suggested tennis, a sport with minimal contact. One he enjoyed in his youth. Georgie bought the clothes, the racket, joined a country club—yet still had not scheduled her first lesson. Instead, she went and watched other people play, while enjoying a cocktail. Dave knew she’d get there eventually.