The Cake My Niece Pushed Off The Table

I sat at my kitchen table for a long time after that. The furnace kicked on and off. The dog next door barked at something and gave up.

I was calm. I was as calm as I am at work when a frightened animal needs me not to be frightened too.

I thought: I have taught that whole family that there is nothing they can do that costs anything.

Then I went to bed.

*

The next morning was a Sunday. I put on cartoons for Luke, and I took my coffee out to the back step and made two phone calls.

The first was to Pam, who runs the youth group with her husband. She has known me since I was in that youth group myself.

“Erin! Did Luke have a good birthday?”

“He’s all right. Pam, I need to pull the payment for Chloe’s spot on the Lutsen trip.”

There was a pause. “Oh. Is she sick?”

“No. She’s fine. I’m just not able to pay for it after all.”

“Well. We’re inside two weeks, so I can’t give you the bus portion back. That’s a hundred and ten. But I’ve got a waiting list for the lodge, so the rest I can refund.”

“Thank you, Pam,” I said.

The dance camp was easier. It was all done on a website. There was a button that said Withdraw Registration, and a box that asked for a reason. I typed, “Payer is withdrawing.” I clicked it. An email came back in under a minute.

Seven hundred and forty dollars would return to my account from the ski trip. The camp deposit, three hundred and twenty five, was mine again in five to seven business days, and the two later payments would never come out.

It took eleven minutes. That is all it took to undo it.

Then I texted my sister. I wrote it out three times in my head first so that there would be nothing in it she could call hysterical.

“I won’t be printing the camp form. I’ve withdrawn my payments for the ski trip and the dance camp as of this morning. If you want to cover them yourself, Pam has a waiting list and the camp will hold the spot until the 20th with a deposit. I am not angry and I’m not going to argue about it.”

My phone rang before I had set it down.

“Tell me that’s a joke,” Christy said.

“It isn’t.”

“You canceled her trips. Over a cake.”

“I canceled my money. The trips are still there. Anybody can pay for them.”

“You know I can’t.”

“I know.”

She was quiet for a second. I could hear her television going. When she spoke again her voice had gone flat and cold, which was always worse with Christy than loud.

“She has been packing for that ski trip for a month, Erin. She has a list taped to her closet door. And you are going to take it from her because a seven year old lost some frosting.”

“He lost his birthday, in front of his whole class, and not one of you said a word to her.”

“She’s a child.”

“So is he.”

“You are punishing a kid because you’re mad at me. Just say it.”

“I’m not punishing anybody,” I said. “Punishing would be me doing something to her. I’m not doing anything. I’m just not paying for it anymore. Those aren’t the same.”

“That’s a real pretty way to put it.”