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“Mike, whatcha doin’? Don’t bother with that. I got dinner covered. I’m making them some smoothies with Caesar salad.”
“Hey, that’s perfect, Martin,” I said. “We’ll have everything with the pizza.”
Chapter 39
“Mmm, this pizza sure is good,” I said in the dead silence to break the ice.
It certainly needed some breaking. I looked around the table at the kids with their faces downturned at their food. It was suddenly Buckingham Palace formal and pin-drop silent with Martin having joined us for dinner.
“Fine. I’ll say it if no one else will, Dad. Are we all going to die or what?” said Brian around a mouthful of pepperoni.
“What?” I said, glaring at him.
“What’s wrong?” asked Bridget.
“Oh, it’s nothing really, little sis. We’re just under attack by a bunch of insane terrorists again,” Brian said, staring at me like it was my fault. “Not for nothing, Dad, but if we have to move again somewhere, you can count me out. I’m going to lie about my age and join the marines or something.”
“Relax,” I said, looking around the table. “There was a blackout on the East Side. They think somebody did it deliberately. That’s all. We don’t know who’s doing it, okay? It’s a mess, and we need to pray for a lot of poor people who are affected, but it’s okay. Honestly.”
“Okay?” said Juliana. “First they blow up a train tunnel, then they kill the mayor, and now—”
“You’re going to pass the garlic salt, young lady, and we’re all going to have some nice dinner-table conversation,” I insisted loudly.
I guess I was a little louder than I intended to be, because everyone stared at me like I was nuts. Except for Martin, who, I could see, was trying hard not to laugh at me and the rest of us Bennett lunatics from behind his napkin.
In the awkward silence, I suddenly tossed out an even more awkward conversation starter.
“Hey, how about those Yanks, Eddie, huh? Pettitte’s looking sharp, isn’t he?”
Eddie stared at me quizzically, as though I had just grown another head.
“Well?” I said again, louder.
Eddie put his slice down on his paper plate carefully.
“I don’t know, Dad,” he said slowly. “He’s retired.”
That’s when Martin couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. Seamus joined him. Then everybody else.
“Go ahead. Yuck it up, everybody. See this, Martin? It’s laugh-at-Daddy time here at the Bennett abode. It’s a common dinnertime stress reliever,” I said, sticking out my tongue at them before I started laughing at myself. “Works every time.”
I leaped up immediately three minutes later when the phone rang. It was Mary Catherine, I saw on the caller ID in the living room. Finally! I was so eager to talk to her that I managed to hang up instead of pick up, and I was placing the handset back down when she called back.
“Finally, Mike! Oh, you had me so worried!” Mary Catherine said. “I had the damnedest time getting through. I just saw the news. What’s going on? Tell me everybody is okay.”
“We’re all fine, Mary Catherine. Everybody is as healthy and sarcastic as ever,” I said.
“But what is this EMP bomb? What about the nuclear stuff they were saying on the news?”
Even after I explained it to her as best I could, she—like everyone else—didn’t seem very reassured.
“How’s things on your end?” I said, changing the subject.
“The new buyer is looking very serious. I’ll know on Monday,” she said.
I could hear the smile in her voice.
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” I said, hearing music in the background. “Are you celebrating already?”
