Chapter 1

"You're a grown woman in your thirties, lying around the house all day. How long do you expect us to support you?!"

Carrie pointed at her daughter playing video games on the sofa, trembling with anger.

Without even lifting her eyes, her daughter Eileen said, "So what if I live off you? What job out there pays more than ten grand a month?"

Thirteen years. Watching her husband and younger son scrimp and save for Eileen's sake, Carrie finally gave up for good.

That very night she took her husband and youngest son on a trip and blocked her daughter completely.

Three months later, Carrie pushed open the door to her home, and the sight inside made her crumple straight to the floor.

On the third day of the New Year holiday, Carrie's living room was packed with relatives, sunflower seed shells scattered all over the floor.

The lively New Year's variety special was playing on the TV, but nobody was in the mood to watch it.

Everyone's eyes kept drifting, on purpose or not, toward the shut door of the master bedroom.

"Carrie, Eileen's got to be thirty-five this year, hasn't she?" Aunt Marjorie spat out a seed shell and raised her voice.

Carrie sat on the edge of the sofa, wringing her hands awkwardly, and gave a dry little laugh.

"Yeah, thirty-five. She'll be thirty-six once the New Year passes." Carrie's voice was so faint it was like a mosquito's whine.

"She's not getting any younger. What's the sense in her cooped up in that room all day?" Uncle Harold tapped his pipe and said with a frown.

"Young people these days can't count on their parents to keep them their whole lives, can they? Even if she doesn't get married, she ought to at least find a job."

Just then the master bedroom door creaked open.

Eileen came out in a pilled coral-fleece pajama set, shuffling in slippers, her hair a messy bird's nest.

Ignoring all the elders in the room, she walked straight to the coffee table, grabbed a handful of pistachios, and stuffed them in her mouth.

"Aunt Marjorie, Uncle Harold, it's the New Year, don't you two get tired of this?" Eileen rolled her eyes and muttered as she chewed.

"Always nagging me to get a job. Does a job make you rich? Three thousand a month isn't even enough to cover my medical bills."

Aunt Marjorie's eyebrows shot up at that. "Eileen, what kind of talk is that? Three thousand is still money!"

"Go out, do some work, get some contact with the world. Isn't that better than lying around the house all day? Your mother works as a supermarket cleaner, on her feet more than ten hours a day. Doesn't it break your heart to see that?"

Eileen curled her lip and spat the shells onto the coffee table.

"That's her choosing to suffer! I've said it before, it's all a rat race out there, and the bosses are just bloodsuckers."

"Going to work means being a workhorse. I call it protecting my health, something you old folks just don't get."

Carrie's face went red, then pale as she listened, wishing she could sink into a crack in the floor.

"Eileen, how can you talk to your elders like that? Get back in your room!" Carrie scolded in a low voice.

"Why should I go back in? This is my home!" Eileen plopped down on the sofa and crossed her legs.

Right then the security door opened, and Carrie's nephew Zion walked in carrying two boxes of high-end gifts.

Zion was in his early thirties and ran a small building-materials company; among the relatives, he was the most successful of the lot.

"Oh, Zion's here! Sit, sit!" The relatives greeted him warmly at once.

Aunt Marjorie's eyes darted around, and she quickly grabbed Zion's arm.

"Zion, you're a big boss now. Are you short-handed at the company? Why not take your cousin Eileen on to do some work?"

Zion glanced at Eileen, sitting on the sofa picking at her nails, and gave an awkward smile.

"Aunt Marjorie, I'm in building-materials sales. I'm out at job sites every day, it's tough work. Could Eileen really handle that kind of hardship?"

"She can! Of course she can!" Carrie said, as if grasping at a lifeline, and hurried over.

"Zion, just put her in any clerical spot, answering the phones, typing up documents, that's all. Pay her whatever you think, even just meals would be fine!"

Zion scratched his head and gave a reluctant nod.

"All right then, Aunt. After the New Year, have Eileen come to my company as an office clerk. I'll pay her a salary of $4,500 a month, weekends off."

Hearing that, the relatives praised Zion for being decent and for the good deal he was offering.

Carrie was so moved that tears nearly fell, and she quickly nudged Eileen.

"Eileen, hurry up and thank your cousin! This is a job you couldn't find even with a lantern to look for it!"

Eileen didn't even lift her eyes, and let out a cold laugh.

"I'm not going."

The moment those three words came out, the living room went silent.

Zion's smile froze on his face, and Carrie stamped her foot in frustration.

"Have you lost your mind! Why won't you take such a good deal?" Carrie demanded loudly.

"Forty-five hundred and you think you can buy off my freedom? Zion's company is on the Southside. I'd have to change buses twice to get there, and get up at seven every morning!"

Eileen shot back, full of righteous indignation, her face all scorn.

"Besides, if I go work at his company, won't I be at his mercy? He's a few years younger than me. Why should I let him boss me around?"

"I'm not going! Whoever wants to go can go! Don't insult me with a lousy job like that!"

With that, Eileen stood up, brushed the crumbs off her hands, and swaggered back to her bedroom.

The door slammed shut with a bang.

The living room was dead silent. Carrie looked at the contemptuous, pitying eyes of the relatives, tears swimming in her own.

All she could do was keep bowing to Zion and apologizing, saying "I'm sorry" over and over.