Chapter 3
Phoebe's voice wasn't loud, but it hit Lewis and Angelina hard, like a resounding slap to the face.
They stared at her, completely stunned.
They'd imagined all kinds of possibilities.
She might cry, throw a fit, ignore them, or just refuse to cook.
But what they never saw coming was her actually following their "30 dollars for three days" rule to the letter with nothing but a plate of stir-fried cabbage.
Lewis was fuming, his rage boiling over.
He pointed at Phoebe, his hand trembling with fury. "What's with your attitude?"
Phoebe raised her eyes to him.
Her gaze was calm and unruffled, as if she were looking at an unreasonable stranger making a scene.
She retorted, "What attitude? I followed your instructions to the letter. I prepared dinner for the three of us using only thirty bucks.
"The mashed potatoes are freshly made, and the vegetables are freshly stir-fried. Is there anything wrong with that?"
Lewis was completely stunned, unable to get a single word out.
Was there really a problem? From a logical standpoint, there was absolutely nothing wrong.
He'd told her to be frugal, and she really pushed it to the max.
He gave her a ten-dollar budget, and she really stuck to it, spending only ten dollars.
But the outcome felt like a knife twisting in his chest, sharp and painful.
I wasn't even a dinner. It was a straight-up slap in his face!
Angelina didn't care about logic at all.
She slammed her hand on the table and shot to her feet.
She snapped, "Phoebe, stop acting all passive-aggressive! You're doing this on purpose! You don't want us to have a proper meal!
"My son busts his ass out there, and when he comes home, he can't even get a hot meal with some meat in it. What are you trying to pull?"
Phoebe set down her utensils and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
Her movements were graceful and composed, a stark contrast to Angelina's hysterics.
Phoebe said calmly, "Angelina, you're wrong about that. Why would I not want you to have a proper meal? But even the best cook can't make a meal without ingredients."
She paused, her gaze shifting to Lewis, that icy smirk curling at her lips again.
She said, "Lewis said it himself. 30 dollars for three days. I'm just a housewife. I can't make money, so I have to run things the way the head of the house wants.
"If you think the food's not good enough, maybe you should complain to the one who controls the money, not the one who has to stretch it."
With that, Phoebe tossed the ball right back into Lewis's court.
Lewis's face turned utterly red, a whole spectacle of emotions playing out right there.
He fixed Phoebe with a fierce glare.
'When did she get so sharp-tongued?' Lewis wondered.
She never used to be like this.
Back then, just one glare from him and she'd shrink back like a frightened rabbit, stumbling over her words.
But today, not only did she talk back, she even threw all the blame right back at him.
"Great, just great!" Lewis said, letting out a bitter laugh. "Phoebe, so you've grown a backbone now, huh?"
He yanked his chair back, pulled out a few bills from his wallet, and slapped them down on the table.
"Isn't this what you wanted? Take it! Go buy groceries right now! I want steak and grilled salmon! Right now! Get moving!"
Lewis figured that flashing some cash would make Phoebe fold just like she always did.
But Phoebe just glanced at the bills on the table, didn't even flinch, and stayed right where she was.
"Sorry, not happening," she said.
Lewis was stunned. "What did you just say?"
"I said, not happening," Phoebe replied, not a hint of emotion in her voice.
She continued, "It's almost seven. The market's been closed for a while now.
"Even if there's a supermarket open, by the time I buy groceries and cook, dinner won't be ready until after nine. Are you sure you want to wait until that late for dinner?"
Lewis's breath caught in his throat.
Only then did he realize he'd let his anger get the best of him and completely lost track of time.
Refusing to let it go, Angelina yelled, "Then just order takeout! You can get anything you want with delivery!"
"Yeah, order takeout!" Lewis grabbed onto the idea like it was his last hope. "Do it now! What do you want, Mom?"
"I want pot roast!" Angelina said, almost defiantly.
Phoebe chuckled quietly.
Her laugh was like a feather brushing against Lewis and Angelina's nerves, leaving them even more on edge.
"Sure," Phoebe said.
She took out her phone and placed it on the table.
"Order whatever you want yourselves," Phoebe said, her tone casual.
Lewis frowned, impatient. "You order it!"
"I can't." Phoebe shrugged, looking innocent.
"Why not?" Lewis demanded.
"Because I don't have any money on my phone," Phoebe replied, her tone completely matter-of-fact.
She continued, "My bank card, digital wallet... None of them has a single cent in them.
"You know all my spending comes from the money you give me for living expenses. The ten dollars for today were spent.
Lewis's expression froze.
It hit him. He'd had Phoebe hand over every single bank card a long time ago, so he could have complete control over the family finances and make sure she couldn't hide any money on the side.