my chair as though I refused to sit.
My dad glared at me. “April! Couldn’t you wait for an introduction?” Because, as far as my dad knew, I’d never met Dyno. Maybe just watched him fight my boyfriend.
“Oh, excuse me,” said Dyno, all wit and manners. He stood, coming around my side of the table to shake my fucking hand.
Can you fucking believe it? I cringed away from the hand and appealed to my dad. “ Dad! You didn’t tell me any of her kids were coming to dinner!”
My dad’s mouth opened and closed helplessly, like a fish out of water.
It was my stepmonster Sadie who snapped, “He’s not just coming to dinner, dear. He’s living with us.”
“I’m not so bad,” Dyno said. His hand was still held out and he had an appealing teddy bear look that was utterly fake. “Once you get used to me.”
Grunting in frustration, I flounced down at my usual seat without shaking the damned hand. “Why does no one tell me what’s going on around here? Did you say grace without me?” It wouldn’t surprise me, the way things were changing without my knowledge. First a new stepmother, then a disgusting pig of a stepbrother. Did my dad know about Dyno’s recent arrest, too? But then lots of guys who rode the circuit had records.
“We were waiting for you,” Dad said sternly, gathering himself. “And April, if you recall, several times I mentioned you have a stepbrother. Two, matter of fact.”
“Jim’s away at Texas A&M,” said Dyno, “studying engineering.”
I sneered at him. “What sort of engineering? There are all kinds. Aeronautical, electrical, mechanical, civil—you can’t just say ‘engineering,’ doofis.”
“ April ,” my dad said.
Dyno never lost his sunny face, I had to hand him that. He should’ve gone into acting. “ Nuclear engineering,” he said, with a twinge of snobbery.
Did he know that was one area I hadn’t studied much? I had wanted to be an aeronautical engineer before Mom was diagnosed with terminal Stage Four cancer. I had maintained that goal while she was dying just to please her, but every day her cancer sucked away her life, I became a tiny bit less interested in it. Lately I’d been realizing I should’ve kept at it, just because it would remind me of Mom.
“Whatever,” I said, because I didn’t know much about it. “I’d like to give thanks for the bounty at our table—”
“ April ,” Dad said again. “I was going to let Dyno say grace.”
What the fuck? He married some lush—Sadie was already pounding away at the vodka gimlets—and instantly they took over our entire house ?
Dyno smirked. What an ass. He even reached down the long table to hold his mother’s hand, although they had to lean way into each other to do so. I didn’t fall for it, and I wasn’t about to hold my father’s damned hand. I barely listened to his stupid grace.
“—give thanks for the new family who have embraced me and allowed me into their home—”
Oh, horse’s ass! The day we “allowed him into our home” would be the day I’d do a strip tease in the announcer’s tower at the Grand Nationals! I didn’t even close my eyes while fake praying, I was steaming so heavily. I just watched Dyno fake pray with the phoniest, most insincere lilt to his fucking voice. What a god damn phony . He was just snowing our folks to get a free place to live, probably getting my dad to sponsor him in the rodeo, where I’d be stuck looking at him every day, and—
“That was a fine grace, Dyno,” my dad said sappily, shaking out his cloth napkin to place on his lap. When was a white-gloved servant showing up to give us our soup? Actually, we did have a casual sort of maid, Josefina, who was a jack-of-all-trades and served us various platters of food. She was doing so right now, letting us choose tacos from a plate.
I poured myself some milk, ruining the theatrics of my anger by accidentally dribbling some on my boobs as I drank it.
At first I was mystified. Was I
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