Why Does The Protagonist In 'The Other Americans' Behave That Way?

To transfer my sister, Suri Voss, who was 13 years younger than I was, to a new school district, I took 7 days of annual leave and went back to my hometown. I pulled strings, delivered gifts, called in favors, and finally forced a spot for her in the best middle school in the city. At last, when I could pause long enough to catch my breath, I told Mom, who was heading out to buy groceries, that I wanted grilled pork ribs for dinner. Suri walked over with a cold expression, then threw a full glass of icy water straight onto my head and pointed at my face as she exploded. "You country leech, mooching off our family for years, eating our food and living in our house whenever you feel like it. I let all that slide. Now you want to steal my mom too? Do you have any shame at all?! "Listen carefully, Mom only has one child. She will only ever love me!" I stood there, stunned. Suri had no idea I was Mom’s biological daughter, too. All this time, she had treated me as some freeloading relative. I looked toward the doorway, where Mom was changing her shoes to go out. She seemed not to have heard a single word of Suri’s disrespect. She merely said casually, "Suri doesn’t like ribs. Let’s have grilled shrimp instead." She had forgotten that I’ve been severely allergic to seafood since childhood. I lowered my head and let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh. Unbeknownst to them, if I could secure Suri a place in that school, I could just as easily make sure she lost it.

I specifically accompany my wife, Sophie Caldwell, to visit her family during the holidays. My mother-in-law, Margaret Jackson, brings over a basket of apples. Then, she says in a half-teasing manner, "These apples are meant for the Jacksons. Once you've had your apple, you'll be blessed with a life as sweet as these apples. By the way, outsiders aren't allowed to take the apples." Everyone begins fighting for the apples happily. So, I grab an apple of my own too. The next thing I know, the atmosphere in the living room goes eerily quiet. Sophie drags me to a corner and starts berating me. "Are you so poor that you can't even afford to buy your own apple? Must you steal apples from my family? "Didn't you hear my mom saying that outsiders aren't allowed to take the apples? Why did you even take one from the basket? "Thanks to you, now Julius doesn't have an apple!" I look around my surroundings. It turns out that there are only eight apples in total, while we have nine people sitting in the living room. So the "outsider" she was talking about is me. I decide to hand the apple over to Sophie's godbrother, Julius Sterling. Then, I call my dad on the phone. "Dad, you don't have to bring the holiday gifts over now."

When I found out my wife was hiding the divorce papers from me, I set up a car crash and pretended I had lost my memories. Naively, I thought this could save our seven-year marriage. But when Josephine Gillard found out I had lost my memories, I saw something called relief flicker in her eyes. Calmly, she told me, "We're siblings. Nothing more, nothing less. Even if we aren't related by blood." Before I could say a word, a nurse pushed open the door with a knowing smile. "Your husband and child are here, Dr. Gillard. Oh, I can't believe you're still so in love even after years of marriage." I was struck dumb. Only after Josephine left did I finally find the courage to speak. With a trembling voice, I asked the nurse, "How long has she been married?" The nurse looked envious. "Five years, and she just came back from maternity leave." While I was risking everything to save our marriage, she had already built another family behind my back.

Our family is planning a ski trip at a luxury resort. However, my mother gives my snow-view room to my adoptive sister and makes me, her biological daughter, stay in the storage room. I'm about to protest when my father and brother accuse me of being selfish. "We've always given Madie the best of everything; she won't be able to sleep in any other room." "Madie is our family—she's the one who's lived with us this whole time. We're a family, so we have to stay together." I'm the one who shares their blood, yet they consider me an outsider. If that's the case, they can go on vacation without me. I board a cruise and travel the world for a month without ever going home. That's when they panic.

During the holidays, I specifically go home to spend quality time with my family. Mom brings out a bowl of persimmons and says in a half-teasing manner, "This is for the Sherman family. Once you eat a persimmon, you'll be blessed with good luck. Outsiders aren't allowed to take from this bowl." Everyone begins fighting for the persimmons. I decide to grab one for myself as well. The next thing I know, the living room goes eerily silent. Dad drags me to the corner before he starts berating me. "You didn't get to eat any fruits when you were living with your in-laws, huh? Must you steal from our family? "Didn't you hear your mother saying that outsiders aren't allowed to take from the bowl? So why did you still take one? "Because of you, Vivian doesn't get anything at all!" I look around my surroundings. It turns out there are only eight persimmons when in reality, there are nine of us in the living room. Mom has been hinting at me the whole time that I'm the actual outsider here. So, I pass the persimmon to Vivian Andrews, my parents' goddaughter. Then, I dial my husband's phone number. "Kevin, there's no need to bring the holiday gifts over."

Living with my aunt and her family was meant to be a temporary, quiet arrangement just helping out and keeping to myself. On the first day of the new year, while everyone else was out celebrating, I stayed home, enjoying the rare silence and catching up on sleep. But when we ran out of water, I reluctantly stepped outside to fetch some, and that’s when I saw him. He stood by the gate of the house next door, effortlessly commanding attention with just a glance. A smirk played on his lips, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes behind his blue-ray glasses. At that moment, he was impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, I felt disheveled and barely awake, my hair was a mess and still shaking off sleep. But he didn’t seem to mind. There was something about him an air of mystery that made me wonder who he was and why he was there. Before I could look away, he spoke, “Hi.” Caught off guard, I managed a quick, “Hi,” while trying to pull myself together. “Can I know your name?” he asked. I hesitated but replied, “I’m Clara,” and kept walking. “Can I have your number?” he called after me. “Just as friends.” I almost refused but reluctantly agreed, entering my number into his phone. “There,” I said, handing it back. “I’ll call you,” he promised with a smile, as I turned to leave. What began as a chance encounter soon became an inexplicable connection. He had secrets, but there was something about him that saw through me, understanding things no one else did. The man I met next door wasn’t just a fleeting stranger,he became the reason I started questioning everything I thought I wanted.