Conveniently Inspired

Chapter Three

"We're pregnant."

There were only three possible reactions that could have erupted from this kind of news, and each of the Lin siblings conveyed them perfectly. Lena, with her excited squealing, treating the couch like a trampoline. Her pale knees hiked up to her chest as she spewed out possible names for the new baby, earning a large grin from both Ms. Lin and Aaron.

Ben was more in shock than anything else. During their announcement, he was hovering on the edge of their tattered old loveseat, the game console by his feet which he dropped in a dramatic fashion. Po-po waved her hand in his face and snapped her fingers but to no avail. He was a statue frozen with the label "culture shock" plastered in marble stone.

With one sibling exhilarated and the other in denial, that left Skylar mad. No. Mad was an understatement. Furious. Blazing. Wrathful.

"Skylar? Ms. Lin's tone was hardly above a whisper. As if knowing that Skylar would implode any moment, she cleverly stepped aside, giving her daughter that much needed space.

Skylar gripped the armrest of the sofa, channelling her inner rage by clawing her short fingernails into the pillow. She imagined ripping out each pillow, one by one, finding satisfaction in the tear and wear. The white cotton used to stuff each one would feel luminous in her touch, like soft, fluffy clouds. The exact opposite to what she was feeling now.

She hadn't even noticed that Aaron was speaking. His voice was long droned out, just a hum to the never-growing madness of her mind. "This wasn't planned, but with a new child on the way, I will say that you can expect me around the house more." This got Skylar's attention. Her neck snapped up with daring speed, her brown eyes narrowing at the culprit. Aaron seemed to be darting his gaze to everybody except her. "I want to be a part of this baby's future. Some men are deadbeat dads, but I plan on being there every step of the way. I'll help out with chores around the house, I'll do the cooking, watch the store, drive your mother to appointments, go shopping for baby clothes, baby food, baby supplies, anything..." That word, that single word which had never been spoken in this house had now suddenly become a regular part of their vocabulary in the span of 24 hours. Skylar tightened her grip on the pillow, with its black thread that outlined "Live Life to the Fullest" in fancy calligraphy. She imagined it was Aaron's dull, hazel eyes instead that she was clawing out. "I love your mother," Aaron said, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. At that, Ms. Lin turned lovingly to him, a wet gleam in her eyes that was typically reserved for her father. Skylar's real father. Her dead father.

As if Aaron could read her thoughts, he said, "I want you kids to know that I'm not in any shape or form trying to replace your father-"

That did it. Skylar lunged to her feet with such momentum that black stars dotted her vision. "Skylar-" Ms. Lin's tone was sharp, but Skylar left before her mother had the chance to scold her. Unfortunately, because they lived in a small, two-bedroom function right above the convenience store, there wasn't much room for privacy. Skylar ran to her room, which she shared with her siblings, and clicked the door shut. She was furious, yes, but not at her mother. Well, alright. Maybe a fraction of it was designated for her. But she knew it wasn't her fault, and it wasn't fair to blame her.

The Lin family had always been poor. Low-income was the proper description. Mr. and Ms. Lin were Chinese but had been living in Vietnam when the war ravaged their country. With nothing but the clothes on their back, they ran with their family and managed to seek refuge on one of the foreign sanctioned refugee islands. From there, they were accepted into Canada and received assistance from the government: apartments, clothing, kitchen appliances, all of them were given for the first few months of their stay in this country, until they could find permanent employment and stand on their own two feet. With their broken English and limited education, not many people were willing to hire them. In Canada, they lacked the skill set to work any job that required using their brains. This filtered their work options to tasks that involved using your hands. The couple worked several day jobs, night jobs, the average day consisting of eight to ten hour shifts. Years later, their work resume was diverse with numerous hands-on jobs: a carpenter, machine operator, roof repair man, a janitor... they'd come home with callused fingers, bruised hands, sore backs, aching knees, carpal tunnel, all from repeated motions that would eventually be replaced by cheap machinery. They hid these physical and mental injuries behind a smile, because no matter how much these jobs drained out of them, despite the spit and vulgar words thrown at them by strangers who claimed that they were 'lazy hack of immigrants being spoon fed by the government', they were at least grateful to be living in this country. Each day was worth it, and each new cut and scrape meant another day's worth added to their growing account that eventually allowed the Lins to make a down payment for a convenience store. This was quite the transition, from being one of a construction company's minions to becoming their own boss. And that alone came with its own challenges, but Mr. and Ms. Lin could finally live a financially stress free life. Even on slow days, they still managed to make a decent income that kept their three children fed and clothed.