my eyes. “That’s not what airplanes even sound like, Eve.”
Her brow crinkles. She looks very serious, with her long dark hair and her starched white dress. “Is so.”
She has a lisp on every S because she’s missing one of her front teeth.
“It is not,” I tell her. “Look at what I’m doing. See how I’m holding the plane from the top?”
Eve squints at me, bored. She’s never really had time for any of my bossiness. Her eyes slide to the TV, which is turned on to PBS. ‘Shining Time Station’ is playing, and right now that’s more interesting to her I guess.
Feeling haughty, I reach over and snatch the plane from her hand. “If you’re not going to do it right—”
Eve tosses her head back in a wail. “Mommy! Mommy, Aiden is being mean!”
“Am not!”
Our mother appears in the doorway, wiping off a dish. She looks funny, wearing a fancy dress and yellow kitchen gloves. Eve and I both give her extra long looks as she surveys us.
Mom and Dad have had a lot of fights about her wearing her kitchen gloves outside the kitchen. Violent fights, fights that end with Dad screaming and Mom sporting bruises.
Dad isn’t home, which is why Eve and I are playing and watching TV. I guess this is Mom’s time to wear her kitchen gloves where she wants, too. It just seems like an odd choice of rebellion.
“What happened, Evie?” she asks, her voice soft.
Before Eve can answer, there is the sound of heavy steps on the stairs. All three of us straighten as one, our heads turning toward the sound. We are attuned to every single sound he makes, anxiously watching our father’s face to get a hint of what direction the wind is blowing.
I glance at the TV. It’s the middle of the day. He wasn’t supposed to be home for several hours at least.
He emerges from the stairs, looking for all the world like an old Hollywood star. Handsome as sin, tall and dark haired, immaculately dressed in a navy three-piece suit. He runs his hand over his slicked back hair, a dead-eyed look on his face.
“Michael!” my mother cuts in. “I didn’t know you were even here.”
My dad ignores her, panning his gaze over to Eve. “What’s wrong with you?”
Eve is almost crying already, her chin trembling, her bottom lip sticking out. “Nothing, Daddy,” she whispers.
Please don’t let this upset him, I pray silently. Please. Please.
His glance slides over to me. He sneers. “I’m home early because the school called. Does anyone want to guess what they had to say?”
I break into a sweat, looking at my father with wide eyes. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that this is about me. No one says anything, although Eve does shake her head in response to his question.
In the background, I hear my mother trying to silently strip off her kitchen gloves.
He circles Eve and I, coming around to our other side. Then he grabs me by the scruff of my neck, yanking me up. “Stand up, Aiden. STAND UP! Your principal called to explain why my idiot of a son can’t pass the third grade. Do you know how fucking terrible that makes me look? Huh?”
My eyes fill with tears. He shakes me at the end of every sentence, almost as punctuation. Dad grits his teeth, leaning down until he’s eye level with me. “I asked you a question, boy.”
“I— I’m sorry,” I say, my face crumpling.
He looks disgusted. “Don’t cry about it. Otherwise I’ll fucking give you something to cry about.”
I can't help the tears that leak down my face. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
He slaps me hard across the face, the blow unexpected. I’m stunned for several long seconds, my cheek pulsing. “I don't know why you make me do these things to you. You’re so fucking stupid, failing third grade. And on top of that, you’re bad. You made your sister upset. Look at her!”
I glance at Eve, who is watching the two of us with a horrified expression on her face. She tries to speak up in my defense.
“No, Daddy—”
My dad silences her by pointing a finger at her. “Shut up, Geneviève. No one asked you to speak.”
She instantly buttons up. My dad turns back to me, shaking me again and gripping me hard. “You have to be punished. You know that, don't you?”
Wordlessly, I nod. Tears roll down my face.
“I told you to stop fucking crying. You’d do well to listen better.” He turns me loose,