I yell over to my dad, “Come on old man, let’s all just sit down.”
“Stay out of this,” says mum, in that same voice, which I had never heard her use with me before.
“Guys relax, you’re guests here.”
My dad shouts over to me, “You’re just as bad. You left too, but instead of taking someone precious with you, you left behind a precious opportunity. You betrayed us too.”
My dad’s shouted at me before, commanded me and rebuked me, but never have I heard his spiteful voice, and here it is following my mother’s spiteful whisper. I didn’t realize until this moment that over the three years I’ve been away I’ve become one of my dad’s grudges, one that my mother has no intention of defending.
Jake makes it worse, I think, by defending me. “Don’t blame him, he did what any sensible child would do, got the hell off the East Coast the second he could.”