Tiffany blinked a few times, looking shocked. I was about to point out that she'd gotten a car in high school, when I noticed her look at Lake and tear up. It was as if it'd only just occurred to Tiffany that Lake wouldn't be around next year.
Lake started to put the brochure away, but Charles took it from her. "I can't wait to see which dorm you're in," he said, flipping through it. "We probably won't find out until closer to mid-summer-"
"Oh, we'll get to shop for your room," Cathy said. "Start thinking about what colors you want to decorate with."
"It's a dorm," Charles said, looking at her over his glasses. "She'll have approximately two-hundred square feet to work with."
"Maybe we'll do a beachy theme so she doesn't get homesick."
Tiffany's mouth fell open. "We were going to do a beachy theme. You can't copy us."
Charles turned a page. "Don't be ridiculous."
Tiffany was already pouting, and we still had a long night of USC-talk ahead of us. As much as I soaked up all the details of Lake's life, I didn't blame Tiffany for her frustration. It was always what Lake was doing, what she was getting, where she was headed. "Tiffany has an announcement, too," I said.
She looked up at me. "What?"
"About work." I nodded her on.
Cathy put down her glass and turned to Tiffany. "Did you get a call-back to model for that sunglass company? The one that needed a pretty blonde?"
Tiffany's face reddened. Fuck. Maybe I'd just embarrassed her, and not in the good way I'd intended. "Better," I said, trying to show Tiffany that her achievements at Nordstrom were worth more than getting a job based on looks. "She's one of the top salespeople in her store."
Charles placed an elbow on the table and continued paging through the brochure.
Cathy's face lit up. "Really? Was there some kind of announcement?"
"Wow," Lake said. "Your department or the whole store?"
"Not the store," Tiffany muttered. "Just my section."
"It's still a lot of people, right?" Lake asked.
I cleared my throat, raising my voice. "Charles."
He looked up. "Hmm?"
"Tiffany's got news."
"It's nothing," Tiffany said. "I'm doing well at work. The real news is that I'm thinking about going to school."
I did a double take. I wished she'd think before blurting out things like that to get her dad's attention. When she didn't follow through, it just made things worse.
"And?" he asked.
"Charles," Cathy said.
"What?" He gestured at Tiffany but spoke to his wife. "She's been saying that for years."
"I'm serious this time. I don't want to get passed up for my next promotion. I don't want to be a salesperson forever."
"Good, I should hope not," Charles said. "Look into it and I'll do what I can to help." He showed Lake the catalogue. "Look at Tommy Trojan."
"I know, Dad," Lake said. "I've seen the statue in person."
It wasn't as if I'd expected Charles to order a second bottle or anything, but that wasn't good enough. "You can help now," I told him, "by listening to what your daughter has to say."
He lifted his head finally. The table went quiet, and even Lake's sniffling stopped. I half expected Charles to stand up and throw me out by the scruff of my neck. This wasn't my family; I had no place speaking up. But he'd put enough negative pressure on both girls for too long, and clearly Cathy wasn't going to stop it.
The fact that I cared enough for both girls to attempt to stand up to Charles made me realize maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was my family, in a weird way-and maybe I even wanted it to be.
Charles' gaze slid from me to Tiffany. "All right. Do you have a school picked out?"
"I think so."
"Bring the course catalogue next time we have dinner." He sniffed. "We'll take a look at it together."
In the car on the way home, Tiffany looked out the window. "If I hear about USC one more time, I'm going to lose it."
"Things'll calm down now. This is what they've been working toward for years." I rolled down my window to let some fresh air in. I'd never get enough of that as long as I lived. "I thought you'd be happy after the way I put your dad in his place."
"It was kind of great." I heard the smile in her voice. She turned back to me. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm PMS'ing."
Already, the tension in the car lifted. She sounded lighter. Tiffany just wanted to be reminded that someone cared. Someone noticed. Sometimes I forgot to show it, went days without doing anything special for her. I needed to try harder.