“What are you talking about?” Elliot demands.
He uses a different tone with Mom than he does with me. He handles her with kid gloves. Me? He’s always growling at me.
“They’re having a father-daughter dance at the country club. Brookie found out and was upset that you didn’t mention it or invite her.”
I roll my eyes as I hear Elliot snort.
“Don’t call her that,” he scoffs. “She’s not five. She’s practically grown.”
“There’s no practicality about it,” Mom says. “In fact, she’s a little too grown. Is that why you don’t want to take her?”
Mom’s voice has gone up.
She’s getting totally worked up. She has no problem telling me I need to lose weight, but she can’t stand anyone else saying it. Like it’s okay for her to be embarrassed about me, but no one else is allowed to do it.
“She’s b
