than that for mashed potatoes.”
Grace forced a smile. “This peeler is just too peel-y,” she explained lamely. “I keep peeling more potato than peel.”
“Well, let your mother take over so you don’t ruin all of the potatoes. You know that’s my favorite part of Thanksgiving.”
Grace nodded, swallowing hard. Normally she didn’t mind that her father didn’t help with the cooking and expected she and her mother to do it. Normally she just brushed off her father’s criticisms. But today she found herself thinking, If you’re so concerned, why not actually help for once?
Carl Danvers was an odd amalgam of old, conservative values with the occasional ability to adopt change when he thought it necessary. He was the one who hired Jaime, the one who first had the idea to do events at River’s Bend, and who wanted his daughter to make something of herself instead of simply marrying and settling down. But those conservative values reared their heads often, and in this case, he had the expectation that the women cooked and the men waited to eat the food those women cooked.
Grace watched as her father stuck his finger in the gravy Julia was cooking, and then watched as her mother slapped his hand away playfully.
The kitchen felt small and pressing, the sudden sensation overwhelming. Grace had never minded living at home so much as she had within the last few weeks, when the ground had been shifting with every step. It wasn’t so much a tidal wave of feeling but one that crept up on her, encircling her throat until she could barely breathe.
The thought of having Thanksgiving with her family seemed unbearable now.
“Grace, did you apply to any of the job listings I sent you?” Carl asked, plucking a roll that had just come out of the oven and biting into it. “You can’t keep working at Trudy’s forever.”
Grace turned, staring at the sink full of brown ribbons of peels. She hadn’t opened her father’s email because she didn’t want to work in an office, making coffee and copies and answering phones until her brain melted through her ears.
“No, I haven't had time,” she answered, trying to sound like she was going to look at the email soon. “And I don't mind working at Trudy’s.”
“Of course you don’t,” he said behind her. “You don’t have to pay rent or the electric bill and so you can make minimum wage for as long as you want.”
“Carl,” Julia warned.
Grace picked up a potato and began peeling it with quick movements. “You know I’d contribute if I could. I pay for my own groceries.”
Carl sighed, like Grace were the greatest disappointment in the history of the Danvers family. “And yet who was the one who wouldn’t listen and decided to get a degree in art? Didn’t I warn you this was where you’d end up if you stuck to that plan?”
“Carl!” her mother remonstrated. “It’s Thanksgiving. Can we do this later?”
“I’m only saying what the girl needs to hear. She made a decision that wasn’t a good one, and now she’s going to have to fix it. She can’t live in our house forever.”
Grace peeled and peeled and peeled. She tossed the naked potato in the bowl and picked up another. She wondered why the sink seemed like it was wavering and then she realized she had tears in her eyes. She couldn’t wipe her eyes. She blinked away the tears as best she could so her parents couldn’t see them.
How did you tell your father you didn’t know how to fix the problem you’d made? I just want to paint, she’d told him when she’d decided to pursue her degree. I’ll figure out the rest later.
Grace didn’t know how she could say that she didn’t know what she wanted to do. She didn’t know how she could tell her father that she felt lost lately and like she was walking through a dark forest without any means to find a path.
“Ignoring me isn’t going to make this go away, young lady,” Carl said. “You need to get yourself a real job and stop frittering away your time, painting things nobody’s gonna buy or see.”
“That’s enough,” Julia hissed. “Leave Grace alone. It’s Thanksgiving.”
Carl muttered something and walked out. Thankfully, the front door opened and he was distracted by the arrival of Adam and Joy. Grace could hear Joy saying that she’d brought her famous pecan pie, and Adam ribbing that she’d burned three crusts this morning before finally buying a store-bought