I dragged my bags through the front door on Christmas Eve. The heat hit me first, then the smell of roast turkey, and
the hum of voices.
The living room was packed with relatives. My cousin raced around the furniture, waving his new toy blaster.
Mom leaned out of the kitchen doorway. “Look who finally decided to join us.” She wore that practiced smile she saved for
company.
“Come on, take your boots off so you don’t track mud everywhere. And fix your face, everyone’s waiting for you.”
Her voice was soft and sweet, like she hadn’t ripped my ear open just this morning. The relatives drifted over when they
heard me come in. I kept my face blank and murmured hello.
Before I could finish, something smacked into the back of my neck. The sting was immediate, sharp.
My cousin sprang up from behind the couch, grinning and waving his toy gun. “Got you! Florence, you’re so dumb. You
stand there like a zombie!”
Everyone laughed. “Nice shot! Florence has always been such a pushover. She just stands there and takes it. Look how well
Linda has her trained!”
They laughed like I was the entertainment. I couldn’t smile. The sting in my neck cut through the numbness I’d been
wrapped in.
At dinner, everyone passed drinks around as they ate. My uncle’s face was already flushed from the wine.
“Linda really knows how to raise kids! Look at Florence, so well–behaved, smart, responsible. Not like my little terror!”
My mom waved the compliment away, but I could see the satisfaction in her smile. “Kids need discipline. Florence is too passive, though. You can yell at her and she won’t even talk back.”
“She takes after her dad,” my uncle said, snide. “He was the same way. You could shove him around all day and he
wouldn’t say a word.”
I kept my head down and pushed my food around. My fork trembled in my hand. If I cried, she’d only hit me harder.
My cousin knocked his Coke over. The liquid spread across the table and ran onto my lap.
“Oops!” my cousin yelled. Everyone turned to look.
Mom’s face darkened. “Florence, what is wrong with you? You need to watch your cousin
‘I didn’t.”
Talking back?” Her voice went cold. “Clean that up, right now! You’re an adult and you can’t even watch a kid? Go get
him another drink.
I got up without saying a word I grabbed a towel for the spill and refilled my cousin’s cup.
Chapter 2
DO’S
My cousin stuck his tongue out at me. The adults went back to their drinks and conversation.
“I don’t know how Florence is ever going to survive in the real world. She’s such a doormat. Who’d want to hire someone
like that?”
“Exactly. Good grades won’t help if she has no backbone….”
This happened every year. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped the glass I was holding.
My aunt took a sip of wine and picked up right where she’d left off. “Last year, Linda asked her to perform for us and she
refused. You know what happened?”
She let it hang. My uncle jumped in.
“Linda put her foot down. Sent her straight to the basement. When I went down there later looking for more wine, I saw
the marks on her legs. Linda really took the belt to her. But hey, she didn’t make a sound. Linda said it was ‘building
character.”
Some people sighed. Others laughed under their breath. My mom’s face stayed blank.
“Spare the rod, spoil the child.”
She set down her fork. Then she looked at me with an expression I knew too well. The story about the beating had just
been the opening act.
My hands started shaking worse. I knew that look.
It happened every Christmas, every family gathering. When everyone was drinking and my mom needed me to perform.
that was when she’d give me this look.
She’d given me this speech a thousand times, fingers tracing the bruises, her voice still soft. “If I go easy on you, people
will think we’re weak. They’ll think I can’t handle my own house. They’ll walk all over us!”
“Florence, you’re my daughter. Your father died when you were young. It’s just the two of us now. You have to
understand, I need you to back me up. If I don’t look strong, people won’t take us seriously. You understand?”
Every time she said it, my throat tightened. I could barely swallow.
I wanted to ask if protecting herself from bullies meant she got to make me her punching bag instead. Did she have to
humiliate me in front of everyone just to prove she was in control?
But then I’d see the lines around her eyes and the words would die in my throat. So I’d cooperate, like I was doing now
My mom saw I wasn’t going to fight. She turned back to the table.
“Oh. Florence. I ran into Mr. Ward from your internship the other day.”
‘He mentioned you left early. Said you weren’t feeling well?”
Ice flooded my veins, and then my pulse started hammering in my ears. Here we go. Time for another round
