“Nate. Hello? Earth to Nathaniel. Your mother’s been talking to you for the last five minutes.”
I glanced up from my plate. “What?”
My parents exchanged a look I was all too familiar with: worry and anxiety thinly veiled with amusement. They were wondering if me being preoccupied meant something was brewing inside me, something that could threaten my health and possibly land me in the hospital for days. And of course, along with that concern came the fear that this could be a symptom that my disease was progressing. I knew it was what they dreaded. Hell, I did, too. I’d been maintaining for so long, rolling along on a careful regiment of meds, monitored exercise and an enforced eight hours of sleep each night. It would be easy to fall into the trap of complacency, but after seventeen plus years of battling this motherfucker, health was nothing I ever took for granted.
“I’m fine.” I stressed the two words. “I feel great. Not hiding anything. I’m just in a bad mood. You guys have to remember I’m a teenager. Aren’t you, like, supposed to be ready for me being sullen and rude?”
My dad nodded, his expression solemn. “Sher, this is the day we’ve been waiting for. Get out his baby book. Mark down the day. Our son is being a moody teenager.”
“If you think this is a first, you haven’t been paying attention.” My mother shook her head and resumed eating. “He’s been surly and mopey before tonight.” She winked at me. “On occasion, of course.”
“I must’ve missed that.” My dad took another serving of carrots, but I could feel his eyes on me. “Practice go okay today?”
“It was canceled.” I dragged my fork through the white sauce my mom had made for the chicken.
“He walked home.” My mom was trying to keep her tone casual, but I detected that underlying curiosity. “With Quinn, right?”
“Yeah.” I pushed the plate away from me, my appetite gone. I knew that if I asked to be excused right now, it would only ramp up their worry. Instead, I leaned back in my chair, stretching out my legs beneath the table.
“Hey, Sheri, don’t you have your chick meet up tonight? It’s almost seven.” My dad glanced at the clock on the microwave.
“Crap.” My mother slid back her chair and jumped up. “I didn’t realize it was so late. Can you guys—”
“We got clean up here. Go on, get going. Don’t forget the wine, and tell Lisa and Carrie I said hey.”
“You two are my heroes.” Mom dropped a quick kiss on my dad’s lips, patted my shoulder, snagged a bottle of wine and her keys from the counter and dashed out the back door. My father grinned at me, shaking his head.
“I swear that woman would be late to her own funeral.” He stood up, carrying his plate to the sink. “You cool to scrape and load if I clear and wipe?”
“Sure.” That was our normal mode; any time I could stand still to do something, it worked out better for everyone.
We handled the dishes in comfortable silence, until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Dad, can I ask you something?”
“Ah, are you finally going to break down and ask me to teach you my killer dance moves?” He executed a spin in the middle of the kitchen floor, complete with jazz hands. It was the kind of stuff that cracked my mom up, and I just shook my head, sighing.
“Sorry, no. How did you know Mom was the one?”
He brought me two empty bowls and leaned a hip against the counter. “The one what?”
“The one. You know. The one you wanted to marry. To love forever. Your soul mate, or whatever.” I ran a plate under the water.
“Nate, you know, I’m not sure I believe in that stuff. The one? Like if I hadn’t met your mother, I’d never have fallen in love with anyone, ever, and I’d have been alone my whole life? No, I don’t buy that.” When I shot him an incredulous look, he laughed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love your mom. I do. She’s awesome, and she’s hot.”
“Dad. Ew. God, who wants to hear that?”
“You asked, bud. Okay, I’m assuming you mean how did I fall in love with your mom.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It was the way she stood.”
That made no sense at all to me. “What do you mean?”
“We were both working on a float for homecoming. My fraternity and her sorority were co-sponsoring it. I walked into this garage, down the college motor pool, and it was crowded with people milling around, drinking beer—hey, it was college.” Dad smirked. “Tons of people there, but I headed for the trailer where they were building the float. They had the chicken wire up already, and all these girls were stuffing it with tissue paper. Some of them were cute, but there was this chick standing off to the side, watching them, and she had her hands in the back pockets of her jeans—” He demonstrated. “And there was just something about the way she stood there. I’m not going to lie about it. A good part of her appeal was physical. I was twenty years old, and my first thought was,hey, I’d tap that.”
“Dad, this isn’t what I was talking about.” I loaded the last glass into the dishwasher and closed the door. “I get that you thought Mom was a total babe. But how did you get the ba—the guts to do something about it?”
“There wasn’t any choice. I couldn’tnotwalk over to her. I couldn’t stop myself from talking to her. It was a while before she took me seriously, but once she did, I was smart enough not to let her go. Not to screw it up, you know?”
“Uh huh.”
My father took the dish towel from my hand and folded it, draping the damp cloth over the handle of the dishwasher. “So. Quinn, huh?”
