Chapter 6 - A Place for Her Happiness
Simone stood several feet away from Nia.
She looked at the blue folder in her sister's arms.
Then she looked down.
"We're not here to crash your reception."
Nia said nothing.
Louise took a cautious step forward.
"Nia, sweetheart—"
David raised one hand.
"Mom, let Simone speak."
Louise stopped.
Simone swallowed.
"I wanted to apologize before you went inside."
Nia looked at her warily.
"You already apologized."
"No," Simone said. "I didn't."
Her voice trembled.
"I told you I was sorry you got upset. I never said I was sorry for what I did."
Nia held the folder closer.
Simone continued.
"I was jealous of you."
She looked embarrassed.
"Not because you didn't deserve the scholarship. I knew you deserved it. That was part of why I was so angry."
Nia's eyes filled.
Simone glanced at their father.
"I've been disappointed in myself for a long time. I kept thinking everybody had given up on me."
David opened his mouth, but Simone shook her head.
"Please. Let me finish."
He nodded.
Simone looked back at Nia.
"When your letter came, I didn't see how hard you'd worked. I just saw another reminder that I wasn't where I wanted to be."
She wiped her cheek.
"And I decided to make you feel as bad as I did."
Nia's lower lip trembled.
"That letter meant everything to me."
"I know."
"You watched me work on that application."
"I know."
"You knew I was scared I wouldn't get it."
Simone nodded.
"Yes."
Nia's voice broke.
"Then why couldn't you just be happy for me?"
Simone had no good answer.
For once, she didn't invent one.
"Because I was thinking about myself," she whispered.
The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
But nobody rushed to fill it.
Finally, Simone said, "I'm sorry I destroyed your letter. I'm sorry I called you a show-off. And I'm sorry I made you feel like being happy was something you had to hide."
Nia wiped her eyes.
"I don't know if I can forgive you right now."
Simone nodded.
"That's okay."
David watched his older daughter carefully.
For the first time in days, she wasn't arguing or defending herself.
She was listening.
Louise stepped forward.
"And I owe you an apology too, Nia."
Nia turned toward her grandmother.
Louise's eyes were wet.
"I kept telling myself I was protecting Simone because she was hurting."
She paused.
"But I wasn't protecting you when you were hurting."
Nia looked down.
"When I said that letter was just paper, I was wrong."
Louise touched her own chest.
"I knew what you had done to earn it. I drove you to that interview. I watched you practice your answers the whole way there."
Nia nodded.
"I remember."
"And I should have been the first person celebrating when you opened that envelope."
Louise's voice shook.
"Instead, I made you feel ashamed."
Nia began crying again.
Louise reached for her, then stopped.
"May I hug you?"
Nia hesitated before stepping forward.
Her grandmother held her gently.
"I'm proud of you," Louise whispered. "Not because you won something. I'm proud of how hard you worked, and how you kept going when you weren't sure you'd succeed."
Nia held on for a moment.
Then she stepped back.
David glanced toward the community center entrance.
People were beginning to gather inside.
"We should go in," he told Nia.
Louise nodded.
"We'll head home."
Nia looked surprised.
"You're not coming?"
Simone shook her head.
"You asked for today to be just you and Dad. We should respect that."
Nia looked at her older sister.
Something shifted in her expression.
Not complete forgiveness.
Not sudden trust.
But the beginning of a possibility.
"Can we talk tomorrow?" Nia asked.
Simone's eyes widened.
"Yeah."
"Really talk. Not argue."
"I'd like that."
Louise kissed Nia's forehead.
"Enjoy your day, sweetheart."
Then she and Simone walked back toward the parking lot.
Nia watched until they reached their car.
David stood beside her.
"You okay?"
She considered the question.
"I think so."
He smiled.
"Ready?"
Nia looked down at her blue folder.
Inside was the scholarship confirmation, neatly printed and undamaged.
"Yeah, Dad."
She took his arm.
"I'm ready."
Inside the reception hall, rows of chairs faced a small stage.
A banner welcomed the scholarship recipients and their families.
David and Nia found their seats.
When her name was announced, Nia stood.
For one moment, she froze.
Then she walked toward the stage.
She shook hands with the foundation director and accepted a certificate.
People applauded.
David stood with them.
He clapped until his palms hurt.
Nia looked out into the audience.
She found her father immediately.
His face was filled with pride.
And this time, she didn't feel the need to look away or make herself smaller.
She smiled.
After the reception, David took her to a small restaurant.
They ordered the same burgers and fries they used to share after her childhood science competitions.
Halfway through lunch, Nia pulled out her phone.
"I want to send Simone a picture."
David raised his eyebrows.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
She took a photograph of her certificate beside her plate and sent it.
A few minutes later, David's phone vibrated.
Simone had used their grandmother's phone to send him a message.
Can you tell Nia I saw her picture? She looks really happy. I'm glad she had a good day.
David showed Nia.
She read the message twice.
Then she smiled faintly.
"Tell her thanks."
That evening, the house felt different.
Not magically repaired.
Simone was still facing consequences for what she had done. David had made it clear that her phone would be returned after the weekend, but rebuilding trust would take far longer.
Louise still struggled to admit when she had favored one granddaughter over the other.
And Nia still felt a small knot in her stomach whenever Simone entered a room.
But they were finally acknowledging those things instead of pretending they didn't exist.
After dinner, David found Simone sitting at the kitchen table.
A community college course catalog lay open in front of her.
"I've been looking at programs," she said.
David sat down.
"Any that interest you?"
"Maybe graphic design."
He nodded.
"You always loved drawing."
Simone looked at him cautiously.
"Would you help me figure out the application?"
David smiled.
"Of course."
Then he added, "But you have to do the work. I can't do it for you."
"I know."
"And Simone?"
She looked up.
"You never have to compete with your sister for my love."
Her eyes filled again.
"I wish I'd understood that sooner."
David reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
Upstairs, Nia was arranging her scholarship materials.
She had placed her new certificate inside a frame.
Beside it lay the reconstructed original letter, still covered in transparent tape.
Simone appeared in the doorway.
"Can I come in?"
Nia looked at her for a moment.
Then nodded.
Simone saw the damaged letter.
She swallowed.
"I hate that I did that."
Nia touched the edge of the paper.
"I hate it too."
Simone sat beside her.
For a while, they didn't speak.
Then Nia reached toward the framed photograph of their childhood bridge project.
"Do you remember this?"
Simone smiled sadly.
"You kept making the bridge too narrow."
"Because you wouldn't let me use enough cardboard."
"Because you wanted to use the whole box."
They both laughed.
The sound felt unfamiliar.
But good.
Nia set the photograph back on her desk.
"I miss when we used to do things together."
Simone nodded.
"Me too."
"Maybe we can get there again."
"I hope so."
Nia looked at her sister.
"But I need you to understand something."
"Okay."
"I'm not going to stop being proud of myself just because you're having a hard time."
Simone nodded slowly.
"You shouldn't."
"And I want you to be proud of yourself too."
Simone wiped a tear from her cheek.
For once, she didn't have anything bitter to say.
The following morning, Nia carried her framed certificate downstairs.
She stopped in front of the refrigerator.
For years, she had kept most of her achievements in her bedroom because displaying them felt like an invitation for someone to complain.
This time, she didn't ask permission.
She placed the certificate on the kitchen wall beside the refrigerator, where everyone could see it.
Louise came in carrying a basket of laundry.
She stopped when she noticed the frame.
For a moment, Nia held her breath.
Then Louise smiled.
"That looks beautiful right there."
Nia smiled back.
A few minutes later, Simone entered the kitchen.
She glanced at the certificate.
Then she opened a cabinet and reached for a bowl.
"Hey, Nia?"
"Yeah?"
"When you get to college, can you send me pictures of your engineering projects?"
Nia looked at her.
"You actually want to see them?"
Simone turned around.
"Of course."
Nia smiled.
"Yeah. I can do that."
David stood in the hallway, listening.
He knew one apology wouldn't erase years of jealousy or silence.
He knew they still had work to do as a family.
But that morning, nobody minimized Nia's accomplishment.
Nobody asked her to hide it.
Nobody made her sister's disappointment her responsibility.
And when David walked past the kitchen wall, he paused to straighten the frame.
Nia's scholarship certificate stayed exactly where she had chosen to put it.
May you like
In the heart of the home.
Where her happiness had always deserved to belong.
