My sister kicked me out of the house after our father died, but she didn’t know he planned it.

A disgruntled teenager | Source: Midjourney

Well, most of the time it’s just Dad and me.

At 35, Charlotte had never really been part of that family. She lived in our father’s house, but it was never her home. She was always out. Sometimes it was parties, going out with friends, or just chasing the next “big thing,” as she always put it.

“I’m going to be great, Dawn,” she said. “I’m meant for a bigger life. It’s not a small life where no one knows who I am. Maybe someday you’ll understand.”

A woman stands in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
A woman stands in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

For her, our house was like an apartment and she only came when she needed something, especially if she didn’t have a lot of money.

For my part, I was 17 and had never experienced anything outside these walls. I was Dad’s shadow, following him around the house, helping him with repairs and making us dinner when he came home from work.

“Homemade meals are the best, Dawn,” he said. “No matter how tired you are, you always have to make something.”

A man is busy in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
A man is busy in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Do the noodles in the package count?” I asked.

All I remember about that conversation is how my father looked at me and laughed.

Growing up, I always wondered if Charlotte didn’t hold it against me. She was already eighteen when I was born. An adult with her whole life ahead of her. In the meantime, I was just the baby that came after.

I was the surprise my mother didn’t even stay for. But my father? He adored me.

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

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