Chapter 3 - THE FAMILY COUNCIL OF WAR
By Tuesday evening, the fallout had metastasized into a full-scale family war.
Leah and I were sitting in our living room trying to put our life back together when a sharp, authoritative knock rattled our front door. I opened it to find my father, Richard Carter, standing on the porch. He was a stern, retired union electrician who usually stayed out of family drama, leaving the emotional management to my mother. But tonight, his jaw was set like concrete.
“Inside, Liam,” he said, pushing past me without waiting for an invitation.
My mother and Kendra followed right behind him like a tactical unit. Kendra’s eyes were red and puffy, clearly painted on for dramatic effect, while my mother looked ready to declare marital law.
“We are going to settle this right now,” my father said, taking a stance in the middle of our living room. “Liam, what you did on Sunday morning was petty, vindictive, and unmanly. You left your sister completely defenseless.”
“I left her responsible for herself, Dad,” I said, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. Leah came out from the kitchen, standing side-by-side with me.
“She’s twenty-one!” my mother yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “She has no savings! How is she supposed to pay first, last, and a security deposit on a new place in ten days? She'll be on the street!”
“She can get a job,” Leah said calmly, stepping forward. “Or two. Like Liam did when he was twenty-one.”
Kendra let out an exaggerated, theatrical gasp. “Don't you dare talk to my parents like that! You’re just bitter because your stupid dress got a little dirty! It’s a dress, Leah! You wore it for four hours!”
“It was four thousand eight hundred dollars, Kendra,” Leah replied, her voice dropping into a register of cold precision that made even my father blink. “And the cake was three thousand. That’s nearly eight thousand dollars of our hard-earned money that you turned into a joke because Liam wouldn't buy you a half-million-dollar condominium.”
“I didn't push the cake!” Kendra screamed, tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks with miraculous timing. “I stumbled! My heel caught on the rug! Why does everyone always take her side now?! Liam, you changed the moment you met her!”
My father held up a hand to quiet Kendra, then looked directly at me with a heavy, disappointed glare.
“Liam,” my father said, his voice dropping into that deep, manipulative tone he used when he wanted to pull the duty card. “Family fixes things internally. You don't throw your sister to the wolves over a financial dispute. You are going to re-sign that lease guarantee tomorrow morning, and you are going to wire her the moving money.”
I looked at my father—a man I had respected my entire life. I realized in that moment that he wasn't protecting Kendra because he loved her more; he was protecting her because if I stopped paying for her, he would have to start.
“No, Dad,” I said softly.
My father’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
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“I said no. And if you ever bring her into my house to demand my hard-earned money again, none of you will be welcome here.”
My mother gasped, clutching her chest as if she had been shot. Kendra looked genuine panic in the eye for the very first time. She realized the bank was officially closed.
