AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Lazy Saturdays are good for you.” She glances at Dad, then continues. “You thinking of going with us to the game tonight?”
My father pauses, his shoulders stiffer.
“No,” I answer. “I’ll just stay in. I have homework.”
He goes back to work, turning away from the stove and dropping two slices of bread into the toaster.
My mother nods, her cool eyes on my father’s back. “Have you heard from Connor?” she asks.
Dad flinches. We notice.
“No,” I answer. “He hasn’t replied to my messages, but I figure he’s got family stuff.” I look down. “I can’t believe Coach is gone.”
She pushes my hair back behind my ear. “You doing okay?”
I nod. “We just saw him.”
“I know.”
“I’m gonna miss him.”
“Me, too. He was family.” Mom eyes Dad’s back again. “We should treasure every moment with our family.”
My father straightens up, an annoyed sigh in his throat as he glances at her over his shoulder.
She arches a brow.
He finishes fixing the plate and turns to place it down in front of me. Egg white omelet with turkey bacon. Wheat toast. He always makes it special for me, my brothers preferring far greasier options.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He wipes his hands on a dishcloth. “I’ll be at the gym today,” he says to my mother. “Should be back by the game, but if not, I’ll meet you on campus.”
Her phone vibrates once. She ignores it. “Have a good day,” she says.
He gives me a silent glance before turning and walking away, following the same trail toward the stairs my brothers took.
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” I say.
He stops. He looks at me and nods slowly, his eyes full of words. But they won’t come out this morning. Not yet.
I wait for him to leave the room, then I sigh. “Well, at least he still made me breakfast.” I grab a fork and stab my omelet. “Boy, I really mucked things up, didn’t I?”
Mom rubs my shoulder. “He’ll come back around,” she says. “They all will. You’ll see.”
“Eh, I deserve it. I lied to them. I lied to you, too. You’re still talking to me. Why?”
She waves a hand. “It was your first teenage lie. It’s not like anyone died.” She cringes. “I meant as a result of?—”
“I know what you meant,” I say, giving her a smile. “It’s okay.”
“It was your first teenage lie, right?”
“Yes, Mother. It was.”
“And it was… your first.” Her eyebrows stretch far upward. “Right?”
I quickly register her meaning. “Mom.”
