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I’m backin the city in time for dinnerSunday.
Tonight it’s a roast, with cauliflower for my mom and dad (the one thing they agree on is being heart conscious) and potatoes for Beck andme.
Except Beck’s notthere.
“He’s at a friend’s. Or something,” my mother offersdismissively.
Not that it matters, because they’re arguing before the first half a glass ofwine.
“Terry, you need to be at this fundraiser breakfast,” she insists, holding up her phone as if he can read it from the other end of thetable.
“I’m giving a talk at thehospital.”
“I told you about this weeksago.”
“You say you’re busy with this big case, but it sounds like you’re spending a lot of time doing otherthings.”
The bickering is getting to me. Every word has me stabbing at my potatoes as I drink my wine.Can’t they think about something other than themselves foronce?
Eventually, I set down my fork. “Stopit.”
My parents freezemidsentence.
“I get that you’re not perfect,” I say. “None of us are. But would it kill you to pull your heads out of your drama for five minutes?” They stare at me, so I keep going. “A month ago, all you could talk about were Beck’s problems. Now you don’t even know where he is, and it’s like you don’tcare.”
“I’m here,” Beck says, stalking in, still wearing his jacket. “I just got my schedule for next semester. Wes isn’t onit.”
My father doesn’t blink. “Dr. Robinson’s moving on fromBaden.”
“To what?” I asksharply.
“Beck, sit down,” my mothersays.
He waves her off. “Wes is the best teacher I’ve everhad.”
“Beckett, for God’s sake, eatsomething.”
“Mom!” Beck bellows. Then he stalks over to his place setting, the untouched meal sitting there, and stabs a potato. He shoves it into his mouth, stillstanding.
We watch him chew and swallow as if it’s amovie.
“I have some news,” Beck announces once he drops his fork. “I’ve auditioned for a summer program atNYU.”
“You did what?” my motherasks.
“I auditioned. I’ve been taking improv classes. And there’s nothing you can do aboutit.”
My father’s face reddens as he straightens in his seat. “You were going to intern at a company thissummer.”
“If I don’t get this, Iwill.”
That shuts up mydad.
“But I’m going to try this. I can take care ofmyself.”
My eyebrows are probably at my hairline right now, and my mother’s jaw is on thetable.
