Chapter 4
FOUR
ALLY
I gaze out the bus window, wishing the driver would speed up. But even if she breaks the speed limit, I’m going to be late for dinner with my parents. Probably only twenty minutes late, which isn’t terrible, but my dad will probably see it as an insult.
And since my new boss dismissed me at ten-thirty this morning, I don’t have a good excuse for my lateness.
I won’t tell my parents I left work early, of course; they’d think I should have stayed and found something useful to do.
But I didn’t see how I could be useful without a chair and a computer, so I went to the grocery store instead.
If my only responsibility is to make lunch for Dr. Malone, I’m going to make sure he has the best damned lunch of anyone in the hospital. Fortunately, I’m a pretty decent cook, if I do say so myself. Since I love food and can’t afford takeout, I’ve had to figure it out.
By mid-afternoon, I’d planned and prepped his lunches for the rest of the week, so I went for a run.
It was the nicest day we’ve had all spring, so I ran a longer than usual loop that took me down by the lake.
It was beautiful, but I underestimated how long it would take, and now I’m going to be late for dinner.
The bus crosses Duke Street, into a different world. Locations in Somerset are often described relative to Duke Street, which cuts a clear division through the city. South of Duke is home to the nice neighborhoods, as well as the waterfront, the university, and the hospital.
I live in a basement apartment north of Duke, which is the rougher part of town.
My apartment itself isn’t bad, especially for a basement, and I get along pretty well with the upstairs tenants.
The biggest issue is the neighbor two doors down, who I’m pretty sure is a low-level drug dealer.
There are people coming and going from his house at all hours, and a lot of them look pretty desperate for a fix.
I’m always careful to lock my door, and so far no one’s bothered me. But I’m still hoping to move south of Duke as soon as I can. If I manage to keep my job at the hospital, I should be able to move when my lease is up in October.
The bus finally reaches my stop, half a block away from my parents’ house, and I hustle off.
My parents live about as far south of Duke as you can get, in a lovely old neighborhood close to Lake Ontario.
The house is an old Victorian and a money pit, but it’s got a lot of character.
If I ever win the lottery, I’ll probably buy something just like it.
My father answers the door, dressed like a stereotypical academic in corduroy pants and a plaid sweater. His style’s been the same for as long as I can remember.
“Alexandra,” he says. “We were starting to worry you weren’t going to make it.”
“Hi, Dad,” I say, forcing myself to smile. “Good to see you.”
I get a stiff nod in reply.
Mom hurries down the hall from the kitchen. She’s still in her work clothes, a white ruffled blouse and navy pants, and her blonde hair is up in a sleek French twist. You’d never guess she just cooked dinner from scratch.
“Hi, Alexandra,” she says, pulling me into a hug.
“Hi, Mom. It smells delicious in here.”
“I made baked salmon with lemon dill sauce,” she says. “The sauce recipe was new, and I’m not so sure about it.”
“I’m sure it will be great.” My mother makes a success of just about everything she tries. The only thing she hasn’t managed yet is a reconciliation between my father and me, but she hasn’t given up hope.
“I made a spinach salad,” I say, handing her the bowl I brought.
“Oh, thanks,” my mother says, taking it out of my hands.
“We’re about ready to eat,” my father says pointedly. “Hayley and Justin are already at the table.”
“Great.”
“Hi, Alexandra,” my sister Hayley says as I walk through to the dining room. “This is my boyfriend, Justin Benedetti.”
Justin stands to shake my hand. He and Hayley have been together awhile—over six months, I think—but it’s my first time meeting him. He’s tall and athletic looking, with blond hair and a cleft chin, and it’s clear he thinks he’s a catch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Justin,” I say.
“You too, Alexandra,” he says. His eyes sweep down my body and linger a little too long on my chest. Maybe he’s trying to find my breasts; since they barely fill out a B-cup, I can see why he might have trouble.
When his gaze returns to my face, I give him a look that makes it clear I caught him checking me out. He blushes a little and averts his eyes.
If Hayley and I were closer, I’d tell her about this later. Justin is not a good prospect—a man who ogles his girlfriend’s sister at a family dinner is unlikely to be faithful. But as things stand, Hayley would probably think I made it up to make trouble.
Hayley’s two years younger than me, and we’ve never been particularly close.
Growing up, we had vastly different strengths—I was the athlete who struggled in school, and she was the brainy one who hated gym class.
You might think that meant we didn’t compete with each other, but we were still rivals for our parents’ attention.
Of course, our parents insisted they didn’t have a favorite daughter.
But for the past few years, there’s been no doubt that Hayley’s the favorite child. My dad and I had a blowout fight a few years ago, and we haven’t been able to move past it. My mother tries to play peacemaker, but Dad and I don’t make it easy.
And I know that deep down, my mother thinks I’m the one who should apologize.
Everyone sits down, and we pass the food around.
There’s an open bottle of white wine in the middle of the table, and I help myself to a glass.
I don’t drink a lot of alcohol—if I’m going to splurge on a drink, I’d rather buy coffee—but I’ve found wine greatly improves the Parker family dinner experience.
“How’s your new job going, Ally?” my mother asks. “Today was your first day at the hospital, right?”
“First day after the orientation, yeah,” I nod. “It was okay.”
“What kind of work do you do?” Justin asks. “No, wait, let me guess. I’m going to say you’re . . . not a nurse, but I bet a lot of people make that mistake.”
I try to jump in here, because there’s no way this guessing game will end well. “Actually, I’m a—”
“Pediatrics resident?” Justin asks.
“Admin assistant,” I say, and it comes out a little too loudly.
Justin blinks. “Like a secretary?”
Next to him, Hayley tries to hide a smirk of amusement.
“A lot like a secretary, yep,” I say evenly. Although so far, the job seems more like that of a personal chef, but I’m not going to mention that.
Justin’s clearly surprised, but I can hardly blame him for it. I’m the outlier in a highly educated family. My dad’s a Greek history professor at Somerset U, and my mother’s a senior partner in an accounting firm.
And Hayley’s a student at Somerset U, finishing up a physiotherapy degree. She’s never liked sports, so I was a bit surprised when she chose physio, but apparently the job prospects are great.
And then there’s me, with my one-year community college diploma in medical office administration. I could have gone to university—I had scholarship offers from top schools—but I chose a different path, over my parents’ strong objections.
You’ll regret this for the rest of your life, Alexandra.
No one will take you seriously without a bachelor’s degree, Ally. It’s today’s equivalent of a high school diploma.
You’re throwing away a great opportunity, Alexandra.
My parents might have been right, but I’ll be damned before I’ll admit it.
“So, Justin,” I say, in an effort to change the subject. “Hayley mentioned you’re a physiotherapist?”
“Yep,” he says. “Hayley and I met at a physio conference in Halifax last fall. We got talking and realized we both lived in Somerset. It seemed like fate, right babe?”
“Definitely,” Hayley agrees, smiling at him. “Justin’s family owns a physio clinic.”
“Premier Physio, out by Maplehurst Mall,” Justin supplies. “I’ve been working there for the past year. Hayley’s going to join us after she graduates.”
“That’s great,” I murmur.
“We’re always accepting new patients,” Justin says. “So if you’ve got anyone looking for a physio recommendation, keep us in mind.”
“For sure,” I reply, although I doubt anyone’s going to ask me to recommend a physio clinic. In my current job, I doubt I’ll ever meet a patient.
As it often does in my parents’ house, the conversation shifts to Greek history. My dad’s writing another paper about the Peloponnesian War. It sounds pretty dull, but I’m probably not the target audience. I find most Greek history boring, except for the mythology.
When I was little, my dad read me Greek myths instead of the usual bedtime stories, and I loved them. My favorite was the abduction of Helen, which launched a thousand ships and started the Trojan War.
And I can still picture my dad sitting next to my bed, his deep voice bringing the stories to life. It’s hard to reconcile that memory with the man at the head of the table, droning on about Spartan war strategies.
The man who thinks I’m a disappointment.
I glance down at my plate and try to focus on my food. Mom’s a great cook and I love to eat, but I’m not enjoying it tonight.
Justin’s staring at my chest again. I glare at him but he doesn’t notice, probably because he isn’t looking at my face.
Hayley notices, though. Her eyes flicker from me to Justin, and she frowns. At me, of course, not at Justin.
“Something wrong, Alexandra?” my dad asks. He must have noticed my expression too.
“No, I’m fine.”
My father nods and resumes his lecture.
I leave as soon as we’ve finished dessert.