“Great,” Erin grumbled as she slammed down her pencil.
Two days of detention and she’d earned an extra punishment for her language at home, which led to more time out of school and a big fat SEE ME on her math test the following week.
“I’m not raising lazy fools!” her father yelled when she was required to get a parent’s signature on her test.
“I missed a lot of school, Daddy. It’s not my fault.”
His cold glare caused her to shuffle back a step. “And whose fault is that?”
The breath in her lungs chilled and she trembled, pulling into herself without moving an inch. Her bones hurt at the mere thought of him hitting her again. “I’ll do better, Daddy.” The words rushed out, a shaky plea for mercy.
“You better.” He crumpled the test. “Throw this trash away.”
“No, don’t rip it! I have to return it with a signature.”
“Tough.” He tossed it in the bin on top of the soggy garbage. Shoving back from the table, he jerked open the fridge. Erin flinched when he slammed it shut and all the jars rattled. “Where’s your brother?” He yanked open the cabinets and slammed one after another until he finally pulled out a can of SpaghettiOs and tossed it on the counter. “Heat this up. Your mother left no food in the pantry.”
When he left the kitchen, she stared at the can, not a clue how to work the stove or how to cook food. Her jaw trembled and fury rose inside of her.
Since starting middle school, Harrison was never around. He was on the football team and Dad liked when customers talked about his games. He never lit up with pride when he talked about her, mostly because he didn’t talk about her. He only yelled at her when she was in his way or doing something bad.
Erin’s fury shifted to resentment when she cut her finger on the SpaghettiOs can. Resentment boiled into anger when she burned her palm on the metal handle of the saucepan. Sitting across from her father as they ate the overcooked mush was excruciating and she wanted nothing more than to escape to her room.
“You’ll have to make the crumb cake.”
A boulder filled her stomach and she blinked up at him. “I…I don’t know how.”
“So, you’ll learn. It’s about time you contributed around here. The recipe’s in the book. You have to follow it exactly and make one every day after school. The customers at the hardware store count on it, and if you want somethin’ better than canned noodles to eat, you’ll give the customers what they want. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t leave a mess in the kitchen.”
She didn’t understand the abbreviations in the recipe, had no clue what tbsp or c might stand for. And they didn’t have enough butter in the fridge. She somehow managed to get a version of batter into the pan and mix a crumble topping that looked something like her mother’s.
However, the oven wasn’t cooperating and she didn’t know what she was doing wrong. Afraid to wake her father or upset him, she called Finnegan. He asked his mom and she told Erin which buttons to push and where the dial should be set. By the time Erin figured it out, she was exhausted and still had a worksheet to do for science homework.
Harrison came home long after dark and glanced at the crisped pudding that looked nothing like a crumb cake. “What’s that?”
“Where were you?” Erin snapped.
He scowled. “Out. What’s your problem?”
“Do you even care that Momma’s gone?”
“Yes, I care, but what do you want me to do? It’s his fault she left.”
Her jaw locked as unshed tears danced in her eyes. They both knew the monster he was. When he hit Harrison, her brother sometimes fought back, which only made their father angrier. The last time he beat Harrison it had been worse than ever before, and her brother had barely been home for more than sleep since.
She loved Harrison, so she couldn’t blame him, but in his absence, she took the brunt of their father’s abuse.
He jiggled the glass dish. “You can’t let people eat this. They’ll get sick.”
Her shoulders hurt and she just wanted to lay down. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
Harrison sighed and washed his hands. “I’ll help you.”
For the next hour, they deconstructed and reconstructed the sludgy ingredients in the dish. Adding more flour and sugar and baking it five minutes at a time until the mush finally stiffened to the consistency of cake. She never got to do her science homework but, luckily, Finnegan let her copy his answers in the morning.
Erin pushed her lunch tray away and held her stomach.
“Your belly hurt again?” Finn asked, brows drawn in concern.
It had been a year since her mother left and Erin often carried the stress of her abandonment in her stomach, but this felt different. “I’m not hungry.”