Page 14 of Life, Love, and Other Messes

“The students are older,” I said. “They really want to be there. Most of them work full time.”

“Is Creative Writing—”

“Missy is taking courses twice a week toward her master’s,” Mom said. “Her mother takes Jeremiah and she has the younger girls in Mother’s Day Out.”

Dad eyed her, but I ignored the fact that she didn’t give a shit about our conversation and turned to her politely. What I really wanted to know was if that meant they weren’t going to have any more kids, but I just nodded. “In nursing?”

“Yes. She’s looking to specialize in…John, what is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’ll have to talk to her about it tomorrow. Does anyone want any more? I’ll start clearing, then.”

“I’ve got it.” I got up and started to stack dishes.

“Well, thank you,” Mom said.

“Dinner was wonderful. Thank you.”

“You want coffee? I’ve got some Bailey’s,” Dad said.

“Decaf?”

Dad laughed at me and began to dig through the fridge. “You’re old.”

I did the dishes while Mom put away the leftovers and Dad prepared decaf with Irish cream. What I really wanted to do was hole up in my bedroom and see if I could spit out a page or two, but the moment I started the dishwasher, Mom nudged me toward the living room. “I have something to show you.”

My father had settled back in his La-Z-Boy with a crossword puzzle. He didn’t even look up. “Helen, leave her alone.”

“No, no, you’ll want to see this.” Mom turned on the television and clicked around in the recordings.

I clutched my mug and didn’t sit down. “What is it?”

“We would’ve seen it, you know… We watch every day, but I wouldn’t have known to record it if Charlotte hadn’t called. I was just floored, you know, after all these years.”

I blinked at my mother and tried hard to keep my tone from betraying my frustration. “You would’ve seen what?”

“Gerald on Championship Trivia. He went home with fourteen thousand dollars.”

“Spoiler alert,” my father said.

“Who?” I asked.

“You remember Gerald. He was on for six days. We’ve got them all right here.”

My father glanced up to acknowledge my exasperation. “Gerald Sandridge.”

Mom nodded. “You remember Gerald. Of course you do. You were in swimming lessons with him at the Y. Always such a handsome, well-behaved boy. Graduated with highest honors from Northwestern. He’s very successful.”

I sat on the sofa, reluctantly resigning myself to three full hours of game show hell. “Yet he somehow has time to win fourteen thousand dollars on Championship Trivia.”

“He thought nothing would come of it, but he spent months studying, and just look what happened. He’s still single,” Mom added.

“I’m still gay.”

My father’s puzzle book twitched and I was fairly certain I heard a snicker.

“Well.” Mom nodded once as if she was merely conceding until I got my head out of my ass. “Look, here he is!”