Chapter 2The Wish

Mrs. Gable mumbled an excuse and hurried out with her grandson. The second the door closed, my mom was in my face, her voice dripping with fake concern.

"Jessie, be honest. Don't you want a real brother?"

"No," I said, flatly.

"It's for your own good! You'll have someone to look out for you." She was trying to paint a rosy picture of family bonds.

"I have friends. I have a boyfriend. I don't need a brother messing things up." I picked up an apple from the table and took a loud, deliberate bite.

My dad jumped in, using his authoritarian parent voice. "What do you know! When you get married, you'll be at a disadvantage if you don't have a brother at home to back you up!"

"Oh, well, then I just won't get married." I chewed my apple, my voice muffled but clear. "Just date, no marriage. Way less drama."

"Even better!" my mom blurted out. "Then your brother can take care of you when you're old!"

And there it was. The mask finally slipped. They didn't give a damn about my happiness. They just wanted a son.

"Expecting my brother to take care of me in my old age?" I said with a humorless smile. "I'd rather just drop dead now."

"Even if you don't think about yourself, think about us," my dad pleaded. "A son is our security! Without a son, people will look down on us. Your mother and I have been pushed around our whole lives. It's time we had some respect."

I had an answer for that one, too. "Don't worry. By the time your 'security' is grown up, you'll be in your seventies. At that age, no one's going to be pushing you around. You could fall flat on your face and no one would even dare to help you up."

My dad's face turned beet red. He slammed his hand on the table. "How dare you! Is that how you talk to your parents? It's our right to have a son! We've raised you, fed you, clothed you! It's not your place to tell us what to do!"

Finally. The act was over.

I put down the apple core and slowly wiped my hands. "You should have just said that from the start. You want a kid, fine. Why drag me into it? What's the matter..." I leaned forward, staring into their evasive, guilty eyes. "Were you planning on popping him out and then dumping him on me? Making me a free nanny and ATM for your perfect little family of three for the rest of my life?"

Their faces crumpled. He'd hit the nail on the head.

My dad was shaking with rage, pointing a finger at me. "You ungrateful brat! We wasted our lives raising you! What's wrong with a man wanting a son to carry on the family name? You're the older sister! It's your duty to help your brother! It's the natural order of things!"

I threw my hands up. "The only way I'm helping him is by preventing him from being born in the first place."

"We're broke. You two don't even have retirement savings. Bringing a child into this is just cruel."

Seeing that yelling wasn't working, my mom switched tactics instantly. She clutched her still-flat stomach, her eyes welling up with tears. "Jessie, look at me, I'm not young anymore. The baby is already four months along, I can feel him moving. And an abortion would be so hard on my body... can't you have a little sympathy for your own mother?"

"Sympathy?" I scoffed, my voice sharp as a razor. "Did you think about how 'hard on your body' it would be when you were getting it on? You don't use protection, you have your fun, and now you want me to feel sorry for you? You deal with the consequences of your own carelessness. Don't you dare try to guilt-trip me."

They were stunned by my bluntness, their faces a spectacular kaleidoscope of red and white. My dad was practically apoplectic. "We're having this baby!"

The fox was finally out of the bag.