Page 4 of Whiskey and Regret

I heard myself telling my parents to back off and let me find a job on my own. Again…cringe.

“Wait…wait you cut me off three months ago?!” My words squeaked out louder than I expected.

“That was the deal. Three months and you didn’t even try to find a job. You’re only noticing now because things are finally catching up with you.”

“Wow, you could have told me you were going to cut me off. I’ve seen you countless times in the past three months.”

“Yup, and you never once asked what the state of finances was. Maybe it’s abrupt, Xari but you needed it. Me and your father have always coddled you because you were so gifted. This will teach you to pay attention and to honor the agreements you make…especially with your parents.”

“Mom, where am I supposed to live? I have until the end of this month to come up with the rent and it’s…” I looked down at the letter from the rental office and gagged on the price. “Nine thousand dollars.”

“Wow. That’s a lot, baby. You know how to sit down and budget though. We’ve shown you.”

“Yeah but I’ve never had to actually…do it.”

“No time like the present. Listen, I have to go. Me and your father are having dinner at our favorite restaurant.”

“The one with the cream puffs and blackberry tea?” I asked, pouting.

“That’s the one.”

“Can I have an order of cream puffs?”

“Do you have cream puff money, Xari?” I looked at the phone like I was speaking to a stranger. Who was this woman?

“No, Mom. I can’t even afford to live in this apartment. Oh my god, why did y’all let me rent this place? It’s so expensive. How was I ever supposed to afford it?”

“Your father mentioned that to you but you told him you’d find a way or did you forget about that?”

“Okay, thanks for rubbing that in my face. Have fun at dinner.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

She really hung up. Just like that.

Everything crashed down around my ears and I felt helpless. It wasn’t like all of this hadn’t been staring me in the face ever since I was offered the Julliard scholarship though.

Even though I was fifteen at the time, Mom and Dad sat down and told me by the time I graduated with my bachelor's degree, I’d be a grown woman and they’d have higher expectations even though I was still their little girl.

I should have taken their warnings seriously. Navy told me to look for a solid job while I was still in school but I brushed her off. Evidently, I’d brushed everyone off that ever made even a lick of damn sense.

I was living high off my accomplishments in school though. Nobody did what I’d done at such a young age. I played the French horn, the piano, the violin, and a multitude of other instruments but the harp was my true love. I’d been on so many talk shows and morning news spots that I’d lost count. I was the epitome of a child prodigy. I was used to being fawned over.

Having the rug snatched from under me was foreign. It made me feel ordinary and basic. It made me feel like…Navy.

Now, don’t get me wrong…my big sister is kick-ass but she had to fight tooth and nail for everything she got. Nothing came easy to her and when we were little, she used to resent the fuck out of me for just…knowing things.

Navy was dyslexic in school and by the time Mom and Dad realized it, she’d already started to force herself to work twice as hard as everyone else because she thought she just didn’t understand things. She’d sit up for hours reading a book over and over when I could just flip through it once and practically memorize.

She had to stand by while I got all sorts of offers based on my reputation alone while she had to work her ass off to even get an invite. I understood why I got under her skin. That didn’t stop me from looking up to her though. She was still my big sister. I admired how hard she fought for everything.

Now, being thrust into the real world as Dad called it, I felt like I’d have to work twice as hard to be where Navy seemed to effortlessly be in life. For the first time, I was the one who didn’t get it. Sonatas and concertos were walks in the park for me but bills and budgets? They were foreign and dangerous. I wanted no parts of them.

When I stood from the couch, my stone shoulders tugged at my body. It didn’t matter. I had to relieve some stress.

I walked to the huge floor to ceiling window facing the street and lit all fifteen of my candles. I loved the flicker of the flame and the soft aura of heat candles put off. They lulled me into a state of peace no matter where I was or what was going on.

After they were lit, I sat at my stool and looked up at my well-played Lyons & Healy harp, which I’d affectionately named Sunshine. It had been mine ever since I was ten years old. I was barely big enough to play properly but I managed. I grew up with Sunshine. It was as much a part of me as my fingers.