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Maybe ood of friends with Hoyt Is that too much to wish for? Maybe Lee secretly hates hi it out loud Lee isn’t all that high on the Spruce Football Food Chain Saying the wrong thing to his teaet hiuess, that’s probably why he prefers totally avoiding me at school; he wouldn’t need to play both sides of the popularity fence that way
I’d believe it more if he treated rowth on his toe
“So?” pro her story—and after we’re nearly finished with our plates, too “How’d y’all’s first day back go? Senior year is going to be a breeze, huh?”
Lee giveslook, then puts on that friendly reserved-for-only-my-mom-Marly voice “Yeah I like my classes”
“You think the football teao all the way this year? All the way to state? Win the championship? Take home the cup?”
“I sure hope so,” he agreesat his plate while he does so—and apparently politely not correctingthe trophy isn’t a cup
Then she turns her gaze ontowarmly “And how about your first day back, sweetie? You’ve been so quiet I hope you’ve changed yourI think it’d be just the e this year”
People always assuoal of anyone who does theatre: to be the glorified, spotlighted actor It’s as if they willfully forget the dozens of people responsible for lighting up that actor, creating and painting the very set they stand on, and for guiding theht-work to render the very performance the audience sees
But I set aside the tedious lecture and just give her a shrug “I think I’d rather stick to painting the sets and the props I like art”
Stepdad Carl picks now to contribute to the discussion “Soht” He takes a slurpy sip of beer—yes, beer during dinner, paired with spaghetti casserole—then sets it doith a smirk “Some men are better for the menial work”
I glare across the table at hi palm sweat
My les at Carl’s words, as if deliberately h hadn’t cut funding to the Arts You had soclub Oh! Why not start one of your own??” she suggests excitedly, like it’s the most brilliant idea “Don’t you still have your easel? Isn’t it in the garage someplace? I never see you use it anymore to—”
“It’s in a landfill by now, I’d iine,” I cut her off, then eye my stepdad, “ever since it was destroyed over the summer”
Silence falls over the table Myeluded her Is she just pretending not to recall the fateful day e too deeply, crashing right intonot only over a hundred dollars’ worth of art supplies, but also two of s?
It’s a very difficult relationship we have here, Carl and I And that difficulty is further exacerbated when I can’t tell genuine accidents froht have been an accident Maybe my stepdad drank too ht But it supports the ongoing narrative that he despises everything about me, is embarrassed by my soft and arty side, and wishes I would just , manly son
His big,a hair out of his casserole right now, an empty expression on his face
“Oh” My uess I forgot about that Seeet you … a neell …” Then she loses her train of thought as she quietly resu for the rest of her sentence in what remains of her casserole
It’s just as well, because the dinner table conversation is dead after that Aoff the plates and loading the dishwasher, alone With the dog Winona and our other dog called Stepdad Carl on the couch watching TV andshift, I head out back Lee is doing some kind of exercise in the yard, so I just circle around hiles and an ice-cold soda, ready to close up for the night