The call came on a Tuesday afternoon, three weeks before Thanksgiving. I was in my office at the Department of Defense facility in Alexandria, reviewing classified procurement documents for a congressional briefing. My phone buzzed.
Mom. I almost didn’t answer. I was on a deadline, but family calls during work hours usually meant something was wrong.
“E mom, Kira, we need to talk about Thanksgiving.”
I leaned back in my chair, already sensing where this was going. “Okay.”
“Your sister is bringing someone special this year. His name is Derek.
They’ve been dating for three months, and she’s very serious about him.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for her.”
“He comes from a very successful family. His father owns a private equity firm.
Derek himself is a senior analyst at a major investment bank. Madison really wants to make a good impression.”
Madison—my younger sister, the favorite, the one with the right degree from the right school, the right job, the right everything. “Mom, what does this have to do with me?”
She hesitated.
I could hear her choosing her words carefully. “Madison thinks it might be better if you didn’t come to Thanksgiving this year. She’s worried that, well, she wants Dererick to see our family in the best light possible.
And you know how you are.”
I sat forward. “How I am?”
“You work for the government. You wear those same three outfits.
You drive that old car. You live in that tiny apartment. Dererick’s family is very successful, and Madison doesn’t want him to think we’re struggling.”
The words hit like a physical blow.
“So Madison thinks I’m an embarrassment.”
“Don’t be dramatic. It’s just that this is really important to her. First impressions matter.
She’s worked so hard on her career and she finally found someone on her level. She doesn’t want anything to complicate things.”
“Anything? You mean me?”
“Kira, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.
It’s just one Thanksgiving. We’ll do something small at Christmas. Just the four of us.
But this year, Madison needs the spotlight. You understand, don’t you?”
I understood perfectly. “And Dad agrees with this.”
“Your father thinks we should support Madison’s relationship.
This could be very serious. We don’t want to jeopardize it.”
I sat in silence for a moment, looking at the classified briefing materials on my desk, the congressional testimony I’d be giving next week, the three-year project I’d just completed that would save taxpayers $200 million, the security clearance badge hanging around my neck. “Kira, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“So, you understand?
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