“I don’t mind,” I say. “Plus, the company is good.”
My mom nudges me, blushing. She hands me the Tupperware of deviled eggs and a deviled egg plate. I wash my hands and start to transfer the eggs from the Tupperware to the dish.
“Jessie doing okay? Does she need anything?” my mom asks quietly. She’s arranging shredded turkey over a tray of slider buns.
“Yeah, she’s okay.”
“She’s quite pretty.”
“She is,” I say, unable to stop the smile from spreading over my face.
“Do you like her?” she asks.
I don’t answer, just give my mom a look that says, “Do you even have to ask?”
“I thought so. She likes you too. You’re cute together.”
“We’re not together,” I say, almost defensively. Not because I don’t want to be, but because I don’t want my mom saying anything to Jessie that might make her uncomfortable.
“What else is new?” my mom asks as she spoons cranberry sauce onto each of the turkey sliders.
“Not much. I—”
“How are your grades, Mackenzie?” my dad asks from behind me, appearing in the kitchen like a magician. He opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of beer, using one of the fridge magnets to pop it open. He takes a swig and sets it on the counter, not offering to help, just watching as Mom and I prep food.
“My grades are fine.”
“Just fine?” my dad asks, unimpressed.
I give him a firm nod and he takes another swig as Mom and I prep in near silence. I was going to wait to say anything until I’d won, but standing there like he is, waiting for me to tell him some amazing accomplishment, it sort of comes out before I have a chance to think about it.
“Did I tell you about the scholarship I’m going for?”
I glance over, but Jessie doesn’t seem to have heard me. I know it’s kind of a sensitive subject for us, but I do want to tell my parents. They’re the reason I’m applying for it.
“You didn’t. What is it?” my mom prompts me before my dad can butt in.
“The Walden Senior Scholarship. The same one Rob and Michael got.”
I feel almost skeezy for saying it like that, for bragging about something I haven’t even won for the merest ounce of recognition from my dad.
I finish with the deviled eggs and start cutting sliced cheese into smaller slices for the turkey sandwiches with the knife and cutting board my mom set next to me. My mom hands me the tray of sliders. I lay each cut piece of the turkey on the bread and close up each sandwich.
“Yep. I thought you should go for it. Glad to hear you’ve applied,” my dad says. He nods approvingly, and it’s the closest thing to praise he’s given me since I played soccer. I’m still not sure he’s forgiven me for quitting.
I thought this moment would feel better. That his praise would lift my spirits, but it does nothing for me.
“Wouldn’t that be special?” my mom says. “Four valedictorians in the house. Wow.”
“I’ve got some stiff competition. Jessie applied too,” I say, nodding at Jessie.
“No Baldwin boy has lost the scholarship, and I don’t expect this will be any different,” Dad says like that’s the final word on the topic. It has the desired effect: neither my mom nor I say anything else about it.
“Everything else okay at school?” Mom asks, taking the tray of sandwiches away to place them in the oven. She hands me a plate and directs me to grab the blocks of cheese and boxes of crackers to set up a charcuterie for everyone.
I swallow hard. My mom has given me an opening to say something I’ve been hoping to bring up but just haven’t had the courage to do so.
“Yeah, actually. I was looking ahead a little and I’ll have some space in my schedule next year. I thought I’d register for an acting class. Just the 101 class. I’ve done all my foundational classes and just have a couple classes left for my major.”
