As an Outsider in Her Own Home Chapter 1

On a variety show, my celebrity daughter claimed she felt like an outsider at home, saying, “They always tell me, ‘If you’re so capable, go fend for yourself.’”

The internet rallied behind her, shoving a mic in my face, demanding an explanation.

“Explain what?” I finally said. “That she gave me a snake necklace, cockroach earrings, and a toad music box? Or when she tried to eat mercury like candy? Or dug up the wrong grave at midnight?”

Silence fell—then public opinion flipped.

【They only told you to leave? They should’ve beaten you.

Kids remember wrongs, not the full story…

When will her parents recover from her trauma?】

* * *

The phone rang while I was repotting an orchid. The caller ID read “Nora the Fearless,” my special nickname for my daughter, Nora. She’s been daring since she was a little girl, and that boldness eventually led her straight into the entertainment industry, where she became one of the few female action stars who does all her own stunts.

“Mom, you busy? Come be on a variety show with me.”

Nora’s voice was crisp and direct, just like her. I instinctively frowned, my hands pausing over the soil.

“No, thanks.”

“I can’t fight, and I definitely can’t scale a tree in ten seconds.”

A weary sigh came through the phone. “Mom, what are you talking about? It’s not that kind of show.” She sounded exasperated. “It’s a family show that promotes career equality. They invite celebrities from different fields to bring their family members who have other professions. It’s to show people what different jobs are really like.”

“Dad’s off studying a volcano in another country and won’t be back for a while,” she added. “Otherwise, we could have all gone together.”

Hearing that, my heart softened a bit. My husband, Walter, is a geologist who spends his life chasing active volcanoes around the globe. We rarely get to be together as a family.

But I was still wary. TV shows always have a gimmick.

“Are you sure there’s no mortal danger? I don’t have to jump off a cliff or wrestle an alligator, do I?”

“Mom!” Nora’s voice shot up half an octave before she reined it in, a note of exasperated amusement in her tone. “Can you just trust me for once? It’s just talking and playing some games. Totally safe.”

To convince me, she did something she hadn’t done in years. She drew out the last word, her voice taking on an almost pleading, whiny quality.

“Please, Mom?”

I froze. The trowel in my hand clattered to the floor. Ever since Nora started her martial arts training, the word “cutesy” had been permanently erased from her vocabulary. She was tough, independent, and never showed a hint of weakness. I had teased her more than once, asking her to act cute for me, but she always stood her ground, saying, “Mom, I’m not a little girl anymore. That’s so cringey.”

Now, that long-lost, slightly awkward plea felt like a warm current melting in my chest. I was secretly thrilled but decided to play it cool. “Just asking isn’t enough.”

“Huh?”

“How about this,” I said, clearing my throat to hide my smile. “You owe me one. The next time I ask you to act cute, you have to do it just like you did today. Then I’ll agree.”

There was a full five seconds of silence on the other end, followed by a shouted, “Deal!”

Then she hung up.

Beaming, I wiped my hands and sent a text to my husband.

Walt, I’ve got something amazing to show you when you get back. Our daughter knows how to be cute again!

The message went out into the void. He was probably in some signal-dead zone near a volcano again.