“I love my students.”
“Love doesn’t pay the bills,”
Dad said.
“My bills are paid.”
“Barely,”
Victoria sipped her wine.
“I mean, that apartment you live in? No offense, but it’s kind of…”
“Kind of what?”
She shrugged.
“Sad. It’s sad, Emily.”
I set my napkin down slowly, deliberately.
“I’m sorry my life doesn’t meet your standards.”
“We’re just worried about you.”
Mom’s voice took on that wounded tone she used like a weapon.
“As your family, we—”
“Good at being underpaid, maybe,”
Victoria muttered under her breath, but I heard every word.
Then something unexpected happened. Mark cleared his throat. He leaned toward me, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
“For what it’s worth, I think what you do matters. My third-grade teacher changed my life.”
Our eyes met. He nodded once, then looked away. I filed that moment away, the first hint of an ally in enemy territory.
Dessert arrived. I hadn’t touched my main course.
“I should go.”
I stood, reaching for my purse.
“Early flight tomorrow.”
“Already?”
Mom frowned.
“But we haven’t even talked about Victoria’s promotion party. It’s next month. We’re renting out the Bellevue.”
“I’ll check my calendar.”
Victoria smirked.
“Let me guess. Flying economy to your little ceremony, teacher salary and all.”
I paused at the doorway, turned back.
“Actually, the Department of Education covers all travel expenses. First class.”
The table went quiet. Dad’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
“The Department of Education? For a teacher award?”
“It’s a national award, Dad.”
I held his gaze.
“Broadcast live on C-SPAN. The Secretary of Education presents it personally.”
“But you wouldn’t know that.”
“Why wouldn’t I know that?”
“Because you didn’t read the invitation I sent you.”
No one spoke. Victoria’s smirk faltered.
“Anyway.”
I pulled on my coat.
“Congratulations again, Victoria. Enjoy your party.”
