The Haunted - Jessica Verday [31]
“What’s involved in Christmas-tree farming?” Dad asked. He took his seat and lifted his fork.
I bit into my food as I waited for Ben’s answer.
And two seconds later I almost spit it back out again. Good Lord, that was nasty.
“I’m not really sure,” Ben said. He took a big bite of his lasagna and chewed enthusiastic-ally. “I’m guessing it will be a lot of digging holes and planting trees. Then watering, and maybe fertilizing them?”
Dad nodded, and I took a second to look down at my plate. White filling oozed out of the bitten edges, and my stomach turned.
Great. Another thing Mom had screwed up.
I peeked over at her, but she seemed blissfully unaware of her mistake.
“I think ish verrry exciting to have a Christmas-tree farm here. It will be an asset to our community!”
Ahhh, she wasn’t wasted enough to stop thinking about her precious town council, though.
A lump started forming in my throat, and I had to blink back tears. Nice, Mom. This birthday sucks.… My food sucks.…
“I know that my dad is looking forward to it,” Ben said. “I just hope he’ll be able to share his trees with the rest of the town—”
Suddenly, Mom sat straight up. “Oh, no!” she wailed. “No, no, no!” Ben, Dad, and I traded puzzled glances. What’s wrong now?
“This has ricotta cheese in it!” Mom held up her fork with a piece of the offending meal on it. “Abbey hates ricotta cheese!”
And she promptly burst into tears.
All my feelings of hurt and anger immediately left, and I was filled with shame instead.
“Mom, no.” I put out a hand, but Dad was already reaching for her. “Look, Mom, I love it.” With Herculean effort I lifted another forkful to my mouth. Don’t grimace, don’t grimace… I shoveled it in and gouged my thumbnail into my leg under the table at the same time.
Focus on the pain. Something else to think about…
Chew, chew, swallow… done.
I reached for my water glass, took a very large sip, and smiled widely at her. “See?” She stopped crying and gazed at me through wet eyes. “Are you… sure?” She sniffled once. “You really like it?”
I nodded. “It’s great, Mom.”
She clumsily got up and came to give me a hug.
When she sat down, I looked at what was left on my plate. It’s times like these we could really use a dog. After cutting up the remaining piece into smaller bits, I pushed them around a lot, moving them from side to side to make it look like I’d eaten more than I actually had. I think it worked. Mom didn’t seem to notice.
Mercifully, everyone ate quickly, and then Dad suggested that I open my presents. I wholeheartedly agreed. He came around and gathered the dishes, starting with mine first, and I mouthed a silent Thank you. Then he sent Mom off to get the gifts.
I leaned across the table to Ben. “I’m so sorry.” I had to fight back tears. “My mom’s totally not like this. It’s just that today was an emotional day for her, and…” He just shook his head. “It’s cool, Abbey. Don’t worry about it.” It looked like he was going to say more, but then Mom came back in with a small pile and sat it in front of me.
“Here we go,” she announced, grinning from ear to ear. “Happy, happy birthday, Abbey!” Dad finished with the plates and came to stand beside her. Discreetly, he pushed her half-full glass of wine out of her reach.
“Happy birthday, Abbey,” he said. “Go ahead and open the small one first. Leave the big one for last.”
I reached for the present on top, a flat, rectangular box wrapped in bright blue and red paper. It was the cherry on a bizarrely colored birthday sundae, adorned with carefully curled ribbons in a multitude of colors. I ripped open one end, pulled out a smaller brown box, and slid back the lid. Nestled on a plump square of white cotton was a gift card for a clothing store at the mall.
“I picked that one up,” Dad said proudly.
“Thanks, Dad. It’s great.”
Next up was an iTunes gift card, a new messenger bag, a pair of shoes… and then I got to the big one on the bottom. It was square and kind of heavy, and wrapped in green polka-dotted paper. As I tore off the wrapping, I was absolutely shocked