"Mom, this is ridiculous!"
"Pipit, calm down."
"Seriously, though? You can't even bother to sweep the floor? At least once a week or something? I can literally see my own footprints in the dirt!"
"You don't have to get so upset."
"Yes I do! You haven't cleaned this house once since I started working. We talked about this! It takes me an hour in travel time, and I have school and studying on top of that. Why am I responsible for all the housework too?"
"That's not true. I did the laundry last week."
He pressed his hand over his face as he tried to contain his annoyance. "Yeah, that's great."
"I did the shopping today," she further reminded him.
"I can tell," Pipit snapped, striding over to the kitchen and opening the cabinets and ice box. "Honey cakes, white truffles, tenderloin steak. You blew my entire paycheck on gourmet food!"
"It's how I've always done the shopping," she replied, more subdued. "Harrie never minded it."
He hesitated. "I'm not making nearly as much as dad did," he said quietly, almost guiltily.
"I know, honey" Mallara said, her smile looking strained around the edges. "It's just hard to adjust sometimes. I wish Harrie never left. I…I miss him."
Pipit exhaled, most of his anger dissipating, and he suddenly felt just as exhausted as Mallara often claimed to be. "I miss him too."