Chapter 6 - THE CRUMBLING OF THE MATRIARCH
Pamela tried to regain her footing,
her voice trembling with indignation.
You shouldn't be so transactional,
Jenna,
she stammered.
Family is about love,
not spreadsheets.
Jenna laughed,
a sharp,
metallic sound that cut through the room.
Love?
she asked.
Is love coming into my home every week and taking hundreds of dollars of food without a thank you?
Is love filling your bags with my hard-earned money while you tell my husband to keep his finances separate so I don't "take advantage" of him?
You wanted independence,
Pamela,
she said,
leaning in close.
And now you have it.
Scott is independent,
and so am I.
And since I am independent,
I am no longer obligated to host you,
feed you,
or tolerate your presence in this apartment.
Alicia and Greg looked at each other,
their eyes darting toward the door.
They had come for a free meal and a week’s worth of groceries,
and they were leaving with nothing but a headache and a sense of shame.
Scott sat with his head in his hands,
the weight of his own stupidity finally crushing him.
He had listened to his mother’s prideful whispers,
never realizing that the lifestyle he enjoyed was a gift,
not a right.
Jenna walked to the front door and opened it wide,
the humid Florida air rushing in.
The Saturday feast is officially over,
she announced.
Forever.
Pamela stood up,
clutching her bag of empty containers as if they were a shield.
You’re a cold woman,
Jenna,
she hissed as she walked past.
I’m a woman who knows her worth,
Jenna corrected her.
And it’s far more than you could ever afford.
The family filed out one by one,
their heads down,
the children quiet for once.
When the door clicked shut,
the apartment felt massive and empty.
Jenna turned to Scott,
who was still sitting at the table surrounded by grey meat and spreadsheets.
The receipts are yours to keep,
Scott,
she said.
Maybe they’ll help you understand what it actually looks like to "support" someone.
May you like
She walked into the bedroom and locked the door,
leaving him alone with the cold leftovers and the hot truth.
