One Digit Short

An awkward silence hung over the room. The people at the dinner table simply stared at the food spread with a mix of emotions.

I urged, “Don’t just sit there. Dig in.”

My mother, Susan Bridget, pulled a grimace, holding back an outburst only because others were present.

Swallowing her rage, Susan asked, “Is this all of it? Push the waiting staff to hurry up and serve the rest.”

“This is everything,” I replied indifferently before turning to the rest of the family. “Eat up before the food gets cold.”

“Thud!”

Susan slammed her utensil down, her chest heaving. “We are a table of twelve, and this is what you get us?”

One family member uttered, “Macie, surely, this is a mistake. This isn’t quite the New Year’s Eve spread we usually have.

In previous years, the family would have a feast with plenty of the finest seafood.

This year, the table looked barren, set with only a small buffet. The only thing remotely close to a shellfish blowout was a measly shrimp cocktail.

Of course, the family was confused.

“No, that’s no mistake.” I shook my head.

Infuriated, Susan pressed, “I gave you money to host the New Year’s Eve party, and this is what you’re serving everyone?”

I glanced at the spread and sighed. “Well, this is the best I can do with the limited budget.”

My sister, Summer Fowler, said, her finger up my nose, “Who are you kidding? I know for a fact that Mom wired you four grand for the catering.

“I doubt there’s even five hundred dollars’ worth of food here. Did you pocket the rest?

“I know that you’re always finding excuses to buy things for Mom and overcharge her for the errands, but you’ve gone too far this time.

Following the statement, the family gave me looks filled with judgment.

Susan said, “Normally, I’d let this behavior slide.

“But it’s not every day that we get to be together with family. Do you think this is appropriate?”

My little cousin, Leon, started to throw a tantrum. “Dad, where’s the crab? Didn’t you say we’d be getting a seafood boil?”

Aunt Tania uttered accusingly, “Macie, this kind of behavior is beneath you. How can you do such a thing?”

The rest of the family voiced their criticism.

Susan jumped in. “That’s enough of this fiasco. Go and fix this with the catering, and that’ll be the end of the matter.”

Taking her cue, the other family members told me to keep the peace and restore the spread to its usual standard.

However, I didn’t budget. I replied curtly, “That’s not happening.”

“What do you mean by that?” Susan raised her voice.

I turned to her. “Have you forgotten, Mom?

“You only sent me four hundred bucks, and this is the food all that money could buy.

“I ended up paying the extra out of pocket since the food was a bit out of budget.”

Panic fleeted across Susan’s face as she hadn’t expected me to call her out.

Nevertheless, she was quick to cover her tracks.

Clearing her throat, Susan kept cutting her eyes at me. “What are you talking about? I sent you four grand.”

Summer mocked, “Oh, just give it up. I was there when Mom called you. She told you that the budget was four thousand dollars.

“How can you claim that you got four hundred dollars? That’s quite a ridiculous cut you’re giving yourself.”

With Summer backing Susan up, the family members’ disdain for me grew.

Uncle Sam said furiously, “Macie, how could you steal from your own mother?”

Faced with their skepticism, I pulled up the transaction record.

“See for yourselves. Mom transferred four hundred dollars.”