The Moretti Girl They Left Behind

On the first day of summer break, my parents found me another job. "A front counter job at the Moretti family's deli. The pay is decent, and you'll learn how business works." From freshman year to senior year, they had said the same thing for four years. The first year, they sent me to count stock in the family warehouse while taking Sofia to Washington to watch the Independence Day fireworks. The second year, they made me work night shifts at a corner convenience store, then turned around and arranged driving lessons for Sofia. The third year, they pushed me into an accounting course, then took Sofia to the French Riviera. So where were they going this year? "Sicily." My brother pushed the door open and walked in, smiling as he handed me a pair of black leather shoes. "I bought these specially for you. You can stand in them for ten hours and still feel fine." "I'm paying for this trip. Sofia is still young. This is the time for her to see the world." Sofia smiled sweetly and threw herself into his arms. "Vince, I knew you all loved me the most." I looked at my parents. In perfect silence, they both looked away. No one cared how I felt, even though I was only one year older than Sofia. Then I smiled, crouched down, and put on the shoes. They were very light. Light enough for me to walk out of this family. ... My mother was packing Sofia's luggage when she suddenly remembered something and called out to my brother. "Vincent, Sofia will graduate next year. You need to keep an eye out and find your sister a respectable job." "There are college graduates everywhere these days. A good position isn't easy to find. You..." Halfway through, she suddenly stopped. Perhaps she finally remembered that there was another daughter in the room, one who was about to graduate. My brother did not notice. "Don't worry, Mom. I've already spoken to the club. Once Sofia graduates, she can go straight into the back-office finance room." After he said that, he paused, as if he had finally remembered me. Then he asked, almost out of courtesy, "Elena, do you need help?" "No." I had already found a job. An overseas assignment in South America. Once I got my diploma in a few days, I would leave. My brother hummed in acknowledgment and said nothing else. My father noticed the atmosphere turning awkward and tried to smooth things over with a laugh. "Our second daughter has always been independent. She never makes us worry." My fingers froze on my shoelaces. I was not independent. I had simply learned that if I did not handle everything myself, no one would help me. My brother was the eldest son, the heir of the Moretti family, loved on his own for six full years. My younger sister was the baby, the little princess my parents held in their palms. Only I was stuck in the middle, neither here nor there, like an old painting in the hallway of the family estate that no one ever looked at. Sofia put down her cherry soda and ran over to hook her arm through mine. "Elena, is there anything you want? I can bring something back for you." She looked sincere, but a flicker of discomfort passed through her gray-blue eyes. So she did understand how unfair they were to me. But I knew. She would forget. Just like every other trip, she would remember the scarf my mother wanted, the cigar cutter my father needed, and the vintage lighters my brother collected. But she would never remember mine. That trace of guilt disappeared almost instantly. I was used to it. I smiled faintly. "Just bring whatever you think is fine." My mother stopped packing and suddenly smiled at me. "Elena, look how good your sister is to you." "If you're asking her to bring you something, shouldn't you show a little appreciation?" My father seemed to have been waiting for that exact line, and he followed naturally. "How about this? Give Sofia your first month's summer wages as spending money." "Oh, no, I don't need it." Sofia glanced at me and refused in a light voice. My brother patted her head. "Don't be so sensible. Just enjoy yourself." With just a few words, they decided where my wages would go. They did not even ask for my opinion. It had been like this every year from freshman year to senior year. Last year, after paying my tuition, I had no money left for living expenses. I borrowed fifty dollars from Sofia for food. Less than five minutes after she transferred it to me, my mother and brother called at the same time. "How old are you? How can you still trick your sister out of money?" "Act like an older sister. If you run out of money, ask your parents. Why are you squeezing Sofia?" But one hour earlier, I had clearly sent my mother a message. She had pretended not to see it. Yet whenever Sofia messaged her, she replied instantly. My phone vibrated. I carried the shoes I had taken off and went back to my room. It was a message from the company. "The paperwork is complete. Assemble in New York next Monday." "Received." After I sent those two words, someone knocked on my door. Sofia pushed it open and walked straight to my suitcase. "Elena, my suitcase isn't pretty. Let me use yours for Sicily." "No. I need it." "What do you need it for? You're not going anywhere." I said nothing. She did not want my suitcase because it was pretty. She wanted it because she would not feel bad if it got damaged. No matter how carefully I protected it, every time she brought it back, it was dented and scratched. The atmosphere turned strange. She stood there, staring at me with a dark expression. When she realized I would not give in, she turned and slammed the door behind her. I silently counted in my heart. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. With a bang, the door was pushed open again. "Elena Moretti." My parents arrived right on time, with my brother behind them.