Which Comes First?

“You’ll work yourself to death!”

“And how do you expect to keep living a life like this without me supposedly working myself to death?”

“What about family dinners, outings, weddings? We never go anywhere as a family! Everywhere I have to make up some excuse! Sometimes it’s a meeting! Other times you have to meet with a client! My brother hasn’t seen you in nearly a year because you’re never around! This has to stop Richard!”

“You’re not my boss Emily!”

“Yeah, I’m not! Apparently, your boss is your bank account! Get your act together before I take the kids and leave!”

Dad’s face dropped. “You wouldn’t. You can’t.”

Mom’s voice dropped to dangerously calm. “Yes, and I am dangerously close to it. I will win the custody battle. No judge will hand Charlotte and Archie over to a workaholic and neglectful father.”

Mom stormed out of the living room and dad collapsed onto a couch as he called for their butler to bring a bottle of whiskey. This had been happening for a while now. Dad would spend long hours at work, sometimes even sleeping there. Mom had been restless and moody with most people and downright furious with Dad. I dragged Archie upstairs.

“Will Mom actually leave Dad? You remember how she used to talk about him when we were younger. She won’t give up all that because he works a lot. Right? Charlie?”

“I don’t know Arch. You know Mom. She loves Dad to the ends of the Earth, but she has had to lie to everyone at every social event recently. Dad sleeps at the office for heaven’s sake! Maybe Mom isn’t completely wrong.”

I collapsed onto my bed as Archie tossed himself onto the beanbag. We contemplated in silence. We had to do something. Dad didn’t want to lose any of us. He didn’t yell back at Mom. He looked devastated when she mentioned leaving with us.

“Hey, do you think that we can mix chocolate ice cream and Doritos?”

“Archie!”

We both laughed. Archie wasn’t exactly a deep thinker. I did the thinking. He did the charming. Dad used to joke that together we could crush the entire business world in a day and have time left over for an 8-course dinner at Rico’s. Neither Dad nor Mom joked these days. They spent a good amount of time avoiding each other. No one had mentioned the upcoming summer. We had a tradition for an annual vacation. Mom said that it had been a non-negotiable event since she married Dad twenty-four years ago. We would eat breakfast, always waffles, and then cut a cake on the jet for Mom and Dad’s anniversary. As I reminisced about past vacations, a brilliant idea shot through my mind.

“Archie! Ibiza! Archie!” My twin rolled off of the bean bag and face-planted onto my plush rug.

“Yes, Charlie?! I know Ibiza is your favorite place to party but why did you have to interrupt my daydreams of vanilla sundaes?”

I chuckled. “No Arch, Mom, and Dad went to Ibiza for their honeymoon. We’ve only been there for parties but Rylie told me that there are some pretty spectacular beaches too. Maybe they could get some quality time in and work out issues while I check out the local bars and you clean out the hotel kitchen.”

“Hey! I love food so sue me!”

“Y’know what, maybe I’ll join you. Then we have to go for a run in the morning.”

***

Mom and Dad were eating dinner in the kitchen together for the first time in weeks when we walked in. We would have to bring up the vacation delicately. The tension was palpable and both of them tended to turn their anger onto us when they were tired of yelling at each other. We waited for dessert. All of us shared a love for Neapolitan ice cream. After the tension had lessened to breathable, I nodded at Archie. The charismatic one would be leading this proposal.

“Hey so Mom and Dad, Charlie and I were talking about the vacation for this summer.” Both of our parents swiveled, ready to give us a piece of their mind. But Archie continued in a calm, steady tone, “We were thinking Ibiza. We could keep ourselves occupied, maybe visit Aunt Victorie, while you two work out some problems.”

I stood up. It was smarter to let Archie convince them diplomatically but I had had enough. “Don’t try to pretend that everything’s fine. We have been witness to every bitter glare you shot out windows on the way to charity galas. We need this vacation. I can’t keep cool like Archie and make everything seem like sugar and spice and everything nice. You don’t look Dad in the eyes anymore yet you always call him for some outworldly reason whenever he stays late. And Dad, you sleep at the office at least once every two weeks yet you always get Mom her favorite flowers and chocolate when that happens. You care. Both of you. And don’t pretend otherwise. Dad, you are working yourself to death! Mom, maybe you should get yourself to the office and get back into work mode. Ever since Remy’s mother mentioned how she ran away to LA, you have been hovering over us. Maybe blindly following money is bad, but maybe you should help instead of yelling. Dad, you’ve gone through 5 bottles of Jack in the past month and Mom rosé doesn’t vanish from the wine cellar on its own. I’m sick and tired! Both of you need to get your act together!”

Mom and Dad looked shocked to their very cores. Archie’s eyes had been widening throughout the speech but now they were filled with pride. He was going to stand beside me. Anyone who was planning on fighting me would face him first. He rose and stood beside me. There was no mistaking that he would protect me. Emotions were running high. After about 5 minutes of tense exchanging of looks, Mom and Dad lowered their gazes as if ashamed. Arch turned at looked at me confusedly. I shrugged then jerked my chin towards the door. They needed to talk.

***

It was June 24th. Archie and I had been staying at a friend’s for the last week. It was bad at home. But we had returned last night with a small bit of hope. My alarm rang promptly at 6 and I went through my morning routine mechanically as I considered how the day could go. When I got to my closet I looked back and forth between my traveling clothes and my day outfit. Once again that kernel of hope won out and I pulled on a Pink tracksuit.

Archie was wearing sweatpants and had his headphones slung around his neck. We both hoped. As we slid down the stairs, the smell of maple syrup assaulted our sense and our faces broke out into grins. We ran into the kitchen. Dad was putting waffles into a plate as Mom attempted to squirt whipped cream straight into her mouth. The woman could boss around a roomful of businessmen but couldn’t work the whipped cream can. Dad laughed and wiped some cream off the lapel of her jumpsuit.

I grinned at my brother. Together we yelled, “Happy anniversary Mom and Dad!”

Mom shot Dad a smile before yelling back, “Ibiza, here we come!”

Dad smirked before going, “Remember sunscreen and to drink plenty of water!”

All of us groaned. Everything was going to be okay. No more workaholism and no more one-track-mind.