chapter 2 • stupid.
888 Words
“Dana?" Dana's mother's voice rang out as soon as she stepped into their suburban home. Her airways were instantly invaded with the scent of potpourri.
"Yes, mom, it’s me."
Her face contorted into a grimace at the soreness in her fingers from the weight of the plastic bags. The earlier she could drop them, the better.
She quickened her pace, hurriedly walking past the white-walled living room and into the state-of-the-art kitchen.
A half-full wine glass and a bottle of Pinot Gris sat in front of her mother who was perched on a tall stool by the kitchen island. She had her blonde hair in a ponytail atop her head, her pale pink night gown hanging loosely on her body.
"Hey, mom," Dana breathed out.
A huff left her lips as, finally, she dumped the bags onto the counter top.
"Dana!" Her mother's face, flushed from having a bit too much wine, settled into a frown. Dana avoided her wide blue eyes, focusing on sorting the groceries instead.
"There's eggs in there… except you forgot to get them?"
"I didn't," Dana muttered before putting the produce in the fridge.
The stool scraped against the floor as her mother leaned forward, checking the things Dana had bought.
“This isn't probiotic."
Maybe you should have gone to the store yourself.
Dana bit her lip. She could never say that out loud. Her mother didn't deserve that.
"Did you really go out like that, Dana?"
At that, Dana lost her restraint and pulled at her hair. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" These were her favourite jeans.
Her mother's frown deepened. "What's not wrong with it? Those jeans are way too tight, not to mention faded. That top leaves nothing to the imagination. You know your breasts are big, you've got to make the extra effort to look decent at least, not distracting."
Dana sighed to herself. It was times like this that she wished her mother had a more time consuming job like her father. She'd have been away on a trip instead of getting tipsy and criticising her daughter's clothes.
Too bad people didn't need caterers more often.
She exhaled sharply, stopping her train of thought.
Her mother only wanted her to be presentable.
If someone asked for probiotic, they ought to get that.
She shook her head, clearing her mind and began preparing dinner.
As she chopped the vegetables, her older sister, the carbon copy of her mother, strolled in. Except, she held a laptop in her hand and not a glass of white wine.
"Hey, Dan-ey." She dropped her laptop on the counter and went to the refrigerator.
"Hey, Cora," Dana said lowly.
She held her breath as she waited for Cora to find out about the yoghurt. Her mother hadn't said much but she couldn't say if it would be the same with her elder sister.
After a few beats, Cora spoke, "so you got zero percent fat? In what world is that the same as probiotic?"
"I don't know the difference, really," Dana said as she poured the vegetables into the pan on the stove.
Cora closed the fridge and stood next to her. Tall and skinny, she kept her blue-gray eyes on Dana. "Google, maybe?" Her lips were in a small smile, her voice teasing.
"I-I thought I'd find it."
"But you didn't," she quipped.
"It was really hard to." Dana spoke despite herself. There was no point, the conclusion was the same; she hadn't been smart enough, again. She shrank into herself, feeling her stomach curl.
"You could have asked a*****e worker... looked harder. If it wasn't there, I wouldn't have asked for it," Cora said dryly before going back to her laptop with the yoghurt and a spoon.
Dana's throat tightened. She swallowed and kept her mouth shut, continuing to stir the food.
Stupid.
The word jumped at her, forcing itself inside her mind.
She shut her eyes tightly. No.
Yet, it wouldn't stop and while she cooked, the word endured in popping out at her despite her attempts to rid her mind of it.
Dana dished the soup and placed a bowl in front of Cora then did the same for her mother.
"Thanks, honey." Her mother's eyes shone as she smiled at her. Dana felt the tightness in her chest easing and the corner of her lips tugged upwards in a small smile.
She picked up a spoon from the cutlery rack and turned to give it to her mother, except, she had turned too fast and her hip hit the long handle of the pan.
Then the soup was all over the floor.
"Oh, Dana!" Her mother's voice dumped the curtain of dread over her.
Dana didn't bother looking at her face or Cora's. No doubt, their lips would be downturned, eyebrows scrunched together because she had messed up yet again.
Her stomach growled as she rushed to grab a rag. If she could clean the floor fast enough, it would be like it had never happened. Now, she just had to find something else to eat.
How could she have left the handle facing outwards?
Then she scoffed at the thought. As if she was ever careful. No, she was stupid.
And she was even stupider for trying to convince herself otherwise.
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- Writer
