Suri’s Sure Thing – Chapter 9

I sleep like the dead, and by the time I climb out of my dreams, it’s the middle of the afternoon. This is not how I wanted to spend my time off. When I imagined these few days, I saw myself helping Tilli pick out hairstyles for the ball or eating dinner with Myra, or going for walks with Mom and Winta. And especially hanging out with Erik, reading, laughing, hitting the gym, and maybe catching a movie together. This is the absolute last thing I expected to happen.

I stare at the ceiling again and listen to the noises of the house. The room Tilli and Winta share is next to mine, and Winta’s voice rises and falls as she chats with someone via her tablet. A door opens and closes, and Rosa’s heavy footsteps proceed down the hall. A moment later, the front door slams shut. Rosa is probably off to some sports event. The girl never stops moving.

Finn’s head pops up when he realizes I’m awake. “I have to go outside,” he says, his tail thumping on the bed.

“Okay, buddy. Let me get up.”

Get up, Suri. The bed is nice and warm, but you have a dog to care for.

Dragging myself out from under the covers is torture, but I do it anyway. I wrap myself in a blanket and crack open the door to let Finn into the hallway. He’ll wind through the house and let himself out the back. I yawn and scratch at my head and wonder how I’m going to spend the evening.

But now, with the door open, I can hear voices in the kitchen.

“It’s not fair to us at all. You have to let up a little,” Mom says.

I hold my breath and wait to hear who she’s talking to.

“There is no letting up. You know that’s not how I was raised,” Dad responds. “In our culture, you wouldn’t even be talking to me about this.”

My stomach hollows out. Dad was born and raised here on Orihimé, whereas Mom was born on Earth and immigrated here in her late teens. I always thought it was surprising that two very different people could get married, but I’ve come to accept it over the years.

“That’s not your culture anymore, and you know it. When we married, you said you wanted to live a life of open-mindedness. That does not mean you dictate to our children what they can and cannot do. They have lives of their own, decisions of their own to make.”

Dad grumbles for a moment, and the refrigerator door opens and closes.

“When I became mayor, though, the populace put our lives under a microscope. Daily. Everyone in town has heard about Suri’s behavior at Izakaya Tanaka last night. They all say she was drunk and belligerent. And what does that say about you and me? The kind of parents we are? I’m already hearing talk of who will replace me in the next election.”

“Good!” Mom’s voice is exasperated. “My gods, quit. I never understood why you went into politics in the first place. It is driving a wedge into our family, and we will break if you keep this up.”

“It is not, and we will be fine. I wanted to do something good for Yamato. I love it here. And having a native Orihiman at the helm was going to be the way to bridge the gap between us.”

“That’s the problem right there. You still think of us as ‘outsiders’ or ‘immigrants.’ We’ll get nowhere if you are constantly dividing us into groups,” Mom counters.

I sigh as I rest my forehead against the doorjamb. This is an age-old argument in this house and one that doesn’t seem to want to die. Dad can’t wrap his brain around our hybrid way of life.

Mom’s voice replies softer. “Quit this job and go back to running the non-profit outreach group. You loved that, and it made everyone happy. That was good work.”

“I handed it off to Ean.”

“Well, maybe you should have asked him if that’s what he wanted to do before bestowing the position on him.”

Ouch. Mom’s voice is bitter. There’s a lot of animosity here I’ve ignored over the years. I’m twenty-seven years old (twenty-eight next month), and I have watched my parents love each other and bicker for more than two decades. But this cuts much deeper than in the past.

“He has never complained to me about his job, ever,” Dad insists. “And if the girls knew any better, they wouldn’t complain so much either. Just look at Suri.” He lowers his voice, but I can still hear him. “What has she been doing these last two years? Sulking around, working all the time, but she’s penniless! Where is all the money going, huh? Gambling? Prostitutes? What?”

“Denshi!” Nothing is good when my mother results to my father’s first name. “It’s none of our business!”

“It’s everyone’s business. You know how this town talks. Whatever she’s doing with her money, it’s bad for her, and it’s bad for us, too. No daughter of mine is going to get caught up in some illegal activities. The public will just blame her actions on us. I cannot afford that.”

“Denshi, this is totally unfair. She’s a grown woman.”

“She is a grown woman who is going to be living on her own soon enough.” He sighs. “I feel like we’ve failed. Where did we go wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Suri,” Mom insists.

“There is. You just don’t want to see it.”

That’s it. I’m done.

I close the door, whirl around, and leave the blanket on the floor. My eyes skate over the room I’ve lived in for years, and I determine in an instant what I’ll take with me and what I’ll leave behind. I grab my biggest suitcase from the closet and dump my meager amount of clothing into it. The photos get chucked in, too, along with the few trinkets I’ve collected on trips across the continent. I don’t have much, anyway. I pawned off everything valuable to help pay off Tilli’s debt, and I’ve replaced none of it in the intervening years.

Everything else stays. I don’t need it. What’s left in here is from my secondary school and college days. Maybe Mom will put it into storage for me after I’m gone. I decide to take my pillow and blanket from the bed because I don’t know where I’m sleeping tonight, and I’d like to be comfortable. That’s it. This suitcase and bag are all I have.

And Finn.

He comes and scratches at the door. “Mom and Dad are arguing in the kitchen. It’s not good.” He spies my bags. “Are we leaving, leaving?”

“We are leaving, leaving.” His repetition is a habit, but I repeat it because it’s true. We’re leaving, leaving for good.

I’d love to sneak out the back and just not deal with my parents, but that would be the cowardly thing to do. It’s time I face all these accusations head-on.

I approach the kitchen with a heavy step so both of them can see and hear me coming. Mom’s eyes are on my suitcase and bag as I leave them by the front door. Dad is standing still next to the island with a plate of meats and cheese. He loves to snack before dinner.

“So,” I say, smiling and nodding, “as you can probably guess, I’m moving out.”

“Suri —” Mom steps forward, but I hold my hand out.

“Nope. It’s time anyway. I know I’m not wanted here anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Dad says. His face is paler than usual. Perhaps he was only bluffing, and he can’t believe I’m calling his bluff. Who knows?

“It is true.” And though I’m raging mad inside, my voice only sounds sad. “You are a good father.” I press my hand to my heart. “But I will never be this model daughter you seem to want, need… deserve. I have screwed up, many times. Made tons of poor decisions. But I need to live with those decisions on my own now. No one, no one,” I stress, “is sadder than me that it didn’t work out with Leo. I missed him like crazy when he left, and my world fell apart. But we don’t love each other anymore. It’s best if we part ways and go on with our lives. And the same is true here.” I circle my arms out to encompass the house. “Here at home. I should have moved out ages ago, so I guess I’ll do it now. You won’t have to worry about me anymore, Dad. I’ll be quiet and careful. I won’t jeopardize your career.”

“Suri…” Mom’s voice breaks over my name. “No. No. You are an amazing daughter.”

Mom glances at Dad, but he says nothing.

“Right, Denshi?” she insists, her voice hardening to a sharp edge.

Dad snaps out of his head. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out either, for you here and for Leo. And I appreciate you being more subdued for the sake of our family. Please let us know where you move to. You are welcome to come back for family dinner on the weekends.”

I let out a held breath, relieved they haven’t banned me from the house.

“Thank you,” I say, tilting forward and bowing with respect.

I take a deep breath as I gather my two bags and look at Finn. “Ready, boy?”

“Yes, yes, Suri? Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out.”

Mom steps forward. “Finn is welcome here anytime.”

I jerk up a small smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

Turning around, I find I’ve had an audience this whole time. Ean is in the office door, and Tilli and Winta stand in the hallway to the bedrooms.

“Tilli, the ticket to the ball is all yours. Feel free to ping me if you need any help getting ready.”

Tears stream down Winta’s face. “Don’t go, Suri.”

I have no words left. I grab my bags and head out the door.