Read Online A Girl by Any Other Name by Mk Schiller - Free Book Online Page B

Tanner, please don’t be mad at Cal. He
    was defending me, sir. It was my fault. Miss Simms made fun of my outfit, and he was just taking up
    for me.”
    My father stared at Sylvie for a moment. I winced, hoping he wouldn’t ban her from our house.
    Instead, the corners of his mouth quirked like he was trying to keep from grinning.
    “Is that a fact?”
    “It is,” she said, staring down at her lap.
    He turned to me. “Cal, although I appreciate your sentiment, it was still inappropriate. You don’t
    have to defend one lady by insulting another. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, sir.” Although I wouldn’t exactly call Mona Simms a lady, but I knew better than to voice
    that opinion.
    “I want you to write her an apology note and hand-deliver it.”
    “But—”
    “Or should I give you another punishment? Either write the note or you can’t go to Friday night
    football for the rest of the season.”
    “He didn’t even go yesterday, John,” my mother replied.
    My dad put his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “What? You didn’t go?”
    “No, I had other stuff to do,” I replied contritely.
    My father placed his hand on my forehead. “You feeling okay, son?”
    “I’m fine,” I replied, matching his wide grin. The tension was broken and I started relaxing. I
    even heard Sylvie exhale a deep breath.
    The rest of the dinner was mostly Mandy hijacking the conversation as she always did, talking
    about her favorite television shows, dresses she wanted to buy and all the other boring random stuff
    my sister talked about that I’d learned to tune out. My parents and Sylvie listened with rapt attention
    as if she was reciting the formula for turning garbage into gold. I did my best not to yawn.
    My father leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach, staring down at his empty plate.
    “Woman, I knew I was destined to marry you when I first tasted your meatloaf.”
    “Is that the reason you married me?” Momma asked, smirking.
    “One of many, sweetheart. One of many.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Like, for instance,
    how you always help me when I’m struggling to remember something.” He started humming then. I
    tried not to roll my eyes, knowing what was in store for us.
    “Oh no, not again,” my mother said. “You have a song stuck in your head, don’t you?”
    “Yeah, sugar. Can you please help me out? I know you’ve heard it.”
    My mother sighed. “Okay, what is it?”
    “Something like ‘walk away’ and a girl’s name. It’s like ‘walk away, Sarah’. You know what
    I’m talking about?”
    “No, I have no idea.”
    My father loved music, especially old music. He’d actually been in a rock band when he was
    younger. They’d tried to make it to California. They’d got as far as Dallas. He played the piano and
    the guitar. He’d tried to teach me, but I wasn’t so musically inclined. I’d snapped off his guitar strings
    and my piano playing had induced a series of headaches for Momma. It was decided his instruction
    would be better saved for Mandy.
    “C’mon, honey, you know it. It’s like a one-hit wonder from the Sixties. I think we danced to it
    before. Hell, I might even have the record.”
    “No swearing, John. Children are present,” my mother chided, although I didn’t think hell was a
    swear word. It was in the Bible after all.
    “Sorry,” my father grumbled, walking over to the piano. He strummed a few notes, trying to find
    the right combination for the elusive song that had grasped hold of his mind and wouldn’t let go until
    he figured out the name.
    “Come on, family. Surely you have to have some idea here?”
    “No idea, John.”
    “Don’t look at me,” I said, holding my hands up.
    My father sat down at the piano bench and hit a few more keys. Sylvie wiped her mouth, stood
    up and walked over to him. “May I?” she asked, gesturing to our old Suzuki mini-grand. My father
    regarded her with surprise, but moved over on the bench.
    “Be my