Meet Me Where the Oak Tree Grows

I sat there, head down, nervously picking at my fingers, not saying a word.
With a heavy sigh, she turned and gave Jonah a solid whack on the back, making a noise loud enough to startle me.
"Jonah, you're scaring her again," she scolded.
Jonah just looked resigned, shrugging it off. "Alright, alright, it's my fault again."
She nodded towards me. "If she doesn't eat the soup, it's all on you."
"Lana," she added, "I'll handle him if you don't eat."
Jonah clicked his tongue, grabbing the bowl beside him. He stirred the soup with a spoon and leaned in closer, his sharp eyes surprisingly soft.
"Come on, just eat, alright? What did I ever do to deserve this?"
I couldn't help but chuckle, taking the bowl and eating slowly, a spoonful at a time.
"Take it easy, no rush," he said.
Maybe the soup was too hot, 'cause my eyes started to sting. Tears slipped down my cheeks, salty and unstoppable.
Of course, I knew they meant well. I’d seen neighbors persuade their four-year-olds to eat just like this.
But I wasn't a kid anymore. Even when I was, my mom never coaxed me to eat. My dad didn't like girls, so I wasn’t allowed at the table. I’d take my
food to a corner and eat alone.
If I took two pieces of meat, he'd smack my hand with his spoon, calling me greedy and selfish. If I filled my plate, he'd slap my face, saying I was lazy
and gluttonous.
I always ate fast, terrified that if I slowed down, my dad would shatter my bowl, leaving me with nothing.
My mom used to brag to neighbors about how I ate like a little puppy. She only saw what she wanted to see.
Tears fell like a broken string of pearls, scattering everywhere. Afraid they’d notice, I quickly lowered my head, almost burying my face in the soup.
I never used to cry like this.

Jonah awkwardly held out a pack of tissues, unsure if he should offer them. He swallowed, his voice tense. "Mom, maybe the soup's not right this
time."
By the time I finished the soup, my tears had finally stopped.
"Did you like it, Lana?" she asked, her eyes filled with hopeful anticipation.
I forced a smile and nodded firmly.
She sighed with relief, then turned and gave Jonah another playful punch. "You brat, when have I ever messed up a meal?"
Jonah clutched his arm, pretending to be hurt. I couldn’t help but smile, catching myself and quickly suppressing it.
Jonah glanced over with an unreadable look.
His mother went to the bathroom and returned with a basin of warm water, a soft towel in hand. She gently wiped my face, letting it linger over my
eyes. "You’ve cried so much, yet you’re still such a pretty little girl."
I bit my lip, feeling my ears turn red.
She continued, "In a bit, we’ll go for a quick check-up. The doc said your right ear’s a bit inflamed, so we’ll get a scan. It won't hurt. And about the
cost, this guy’s the reason you’re in the hospital. He’s got plenty of money. If he doesn’t pay, I’d be ashamed for him."
Jonah was cleaning up the dishes, not even lifting his head. "Yeah, yeah."
The scan was quick.
The doctor studied the gray image seriously. "This young lady’s right ear has had previous injuries. The damage went untreated for too long, leading
to a perforated eardrum. Repeated impacts have worsened the condition. It’s complicated. For now, we can only prescribe medication to reduce the
current inflammation."