Steel Me Away by Vivian Lux Page B

mother pressed her cheek to mine.  I wanted to recoil from her embrace.  But I couldn't.  There was a spell that had been cast upon me the moment I crossed the threshold of this house.  I felt inert, like I was moving through water.  My limbs felt like they weighed a million pounds each.  The effort of holding up my head was getting to be too much for me, and the added weight of her hands on my shoulders was more than I could bear.
    "Thank you," I choked.
    "Andrew, will you lead grace?" My mother sat down at the foot of the table.  My father was already seated at the head.  Andy slid forward in his chair like he felt the same weight pressing onto his shoulders that I still felt on mine.
    "Thank you God for family and friends and for this food," he mumbled.  He darted his head up hopefully.  "Amen."
    "And what about your sister coming home?" my mother prompted.
    He ducked his head.  "And thank you for Emmy coming back," he muttered again.  But this wasn't quite so quick.  I shot him a smile before I noticed he hadn't said I'd come home.
    The murmured 'Amens' melted into the clinking of silverware as we passed the dishes in silence.  My mother cooked with no regard for the season.  Tonight's dinner was roast beef, mashed potatoes and frozen peas. As if it wasn't hot enough outside.  The heat of the oven made the kitchen even hotter. 
    The steam rose from my plate and I felt a little dizzy.  The weight on my shoulders was still pressing down.  I could barely summon the energy to lift my fork.
    "Looks delicious, Mom," I croaked.  Ever the diplomat.
    She smiled tightly and cast a quick glimpse at my plate.  I looked down at the abundance of food I had piled on and felt the flames of embarrassment heat my already rosy cheeks.  Her own plate was more white space than food.
    "You always did enjoy my cooking, Emilia."  She looked downward as if this was something I should be ashamed of.
    Andy made a small noise into his plate.  My father shot him a furious look, then took a small swig of the sweating tumbler at his elbow.  The amber colored liquid reminded me of my first time drinking with J. and the Sons of Steel. 
    I hadn't even told him where I was going.  I had just run away. 
    I felt a twinge of guilt in my stomach. Some fucking fighter I was.  J. was probably furious with me.  And rightly so. 
    The weight on my shoulders pressed harder.
    "So Em," Andy piped up.  "Anything interesting happen in the past two years?"  He looked at my parents challengingly.
    My mother sniffed and put down her fork. "Emilia broke her engagement."  She spoke the words to my father, but her gaze was fixed furiously on her plate.
    I opened my mouth to speak, to tell my side of the story.  But my father made the coughing noise that signaled he was about to talk.  To say anything now would be akin to interrupting him.  A mortal sin.  We would all have to wait while he gathered his thoughts.
    I took a sip of my water.  It really was too hot in this kitchen.  The wheezing window unit in the living room barely reached us over here. 
    The sweat prickling on my upper lip had nothing to do with the heat.
    "So you're telling me," my father finally spoke, "That you have no job, no college  degree and now no marriage prospect either?"
    The newborn fighter inside of me stirred to life. "Actually Daddy, I'm not telling you that, Mom is. I haven't told you anything about what happened."
    He stared daggers at me. Andy made another little noise and shifted forward in his seat. I flicked my eyes to him and saw the excitement on his face.  He was ready for the show.
    "Then what do you have to say for yourself?" The sappy Daddy of five minutes ago was gone. 
    All traces of him were wiped clean the minute it had become clear that I wasn't doing what I was supposed to do. I snuck a look at my mom and saw something positively gleeful on her face. She was delighted by my father's anger. It shifted focus. I was going to be the target