Read Online Everything Is Fine. by Ann Dee Ellis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ann Dee Ellis
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my stomach.
He looks at me.
I look back and say, “What are people saying?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know she’d know people who even knew your mom but I guess my mom and dad say stuff.” He pauses,
pulls a marshmallow apart, and then sticks it to his arm. “Plus, everyone knows because of your dad and everything.”
Dad.
He sticks another one on his arm and doesn’t look at me.
I get up and put the marshmallows on a plate.
“Do you like them burned or not burned?”
“Whatever,” he says. He is making a tower now.
I press start on the microwave and am watching it go around and around when he says, “Randy asks about it too. Almost everyone
does.”
The microwave beeps but I don’t move.
“I just say I don’t know.”
He turns in his chair. “Is that what I should say?”
I shrug.
He looks at his shoes again and then says, “Do you guys have any sugar? I was supposed to come over and ask for sugar.”
C OLBY AND ME WITH MARSHMALLOWS : crayon on paper
DAD AND ESPN 360
It all started when Dad got a phone call from the network.
He was up for the job.
Mom didn’t want him to take it.
“Roxie, this is huge. This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
“I thought we were waiting for ABC,” she said.
They were talking in the kitchen and me and Olivia were watching
Barney
or something in the living room.
They never fought.
Except about jobs.
Dad didn’t say anything.
Mom did. “Dave, this is ESPN 360. This is curling and foosball,” she said.
“Give me a break,” he said, and he was louder than normal.
All I could think was, Please don’t let us move. Please don’t let us move.
Things were good — and before we got here we had to move and move and move. I liked it here.
Mom didn’t want to leave because she had lots of friends and she had her art studio and her business and Dad was making money
as the local sports anchor and people liked him and everything was how it was supposed to be.
They kept talking and talking and finally Dad yelled something. It made Olivia jump, and she looked over at me, her fat cheeks
red and her mouth open.
“It’s okay,” I said. But then Dad yelled again and Olivia’s face started to scrunch up and soon she was crying.
Mom ran into the room yelling, “See what you did, Dave. You’ve upset Olivia.”
Dad followed her and watched her pick Olivia up. She was whimpering and put her head on Mom’s shoulder.
I looked at the carpet.
“This is a family decision, Dave. What’s best for the family.”
Dad stood in the doorway, silent, while Mom rocked Olivia back and forth. The air was heavy, and this moment I remembered
so well.
It’s almost like it’s frozen.
He said, “Things are going to change, Roxie. What works for you doesn’t always work for me. Things change.”
And then he walked over, kissed Olivia on the nose, nodded at me, and went out the front door.
Three days later it happened.
ART
I never tried to do art before.
She always asked if I wanted her to teach me but I didn’t.
I don’t know why.
Now I want her to.
In Mom’s art room I’ve made it better even if it’s messier.
Like I pulled out her paintings and put them on the walls.
She used to have them out plus some of her drawings of us and the finger painting Olivia had done, but after everything happened,
she took them all down.
Instead, she put up prints of van Gogh or Klimt or someone famous.
Not her own stuff and not our stuff.
Right after she did it I asked her, “Where are all our paintings?” She was scribbling something on a pad of paper at her worktable
and didn’t respond.
“Mom?”
Still scribbling.
“Mom?”
She jumped. “Oh, Mazzy. What do you need?” She sounded mad.
“Nothing,” I said, and then I left and watched TV.
The room looks better now with her stuff and my stuff and Olivia’s finger painting.
BOOBS
I made a chart about boobs.
There are many different kinds.
Norma’s are droopy like
He looks at me.
I look back and say, “What are people saying?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know she’d know people who even knew your mom but I guess my mom and dad say stuff.” He pauses,
pulls a marshmallow apart, and then sticks it to his arm. “Plus, everyone knows because of your dad and everything.”
Dad.
He sticks another one on his arm and doesn’t look at me.
I get up and put the marshmallows on a plate.
“Do you like them burned or not burned?”
“Whatever,” he says. He is making a tower now.
I press start on the microwave and am watching it go around and around when he says, “Randy asks about it too. Almost everyone
does.”
The microwave beeps but I don’t move.
“I just say I don’t know.”
He turns in his chair. “Is that what I should say?”
I shrug.
He looks at his shoes again and then says, “Do you guys have any sugar? I was supposed to come over and ask for sugar.”
C OLBY AND ME WITH MARSHMALLOWS : crayon on paper
DAD AND ESPN 360
It all started when Dad got a phone call from the network.
He was up for the job.
Mom didn’t want him to take it.
“Roxie, this is huge. This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
“I thought we were waiting for ABC,” she said.
They were talking in the kitchen and me and Olivia were watching
Barney
or something in the living room.
They never fought.
Except about jobs.
Dad didn’t say anything.
Mom did. “Dave, this is ESPN 360. This is curling and foosball,” she said.
“Give me a break,” he said, and he was louder than normal.
All I could think was, Please don’t let us move. Please don’t let us move.
Things were good — and before we got here we had to move and move and move. I liked it here.
Mom didn’t want to leave because she had lots of friends and she had her art studio and her business and Dad was making money
as the local sports anchor and people liked him and everything was how it was supposed to be.
They kept talking and talking and finally Dad yelled something. It made Olivia jump, and she looked over at me, her fat cheeks
red and her mouth open.
“It’s okay,” I said. But then Dad yelled again and Olivia’s face started to scrunch up and soon she was crying.
Mom ran into the room yelling, “See what you did, Dave. You’ve upset Olivia.”
Dad followed her and watched her pick Olivia up. She was whimpering and put her head on Mom’s shoulder.
I looked at the carpet.
“This is a family decision, Dave. What’s best for the family.”
Dad stood in the doorway, silent, while Mom rocked Olivia back and forth. The air was heavy, and this moment I remembered
so well.
It’s almost like it’s frozen.
He said, “Things are going to change, Roxie. What works for you doesn’t always work for me. Things change.”
And then he walked over, kissed Olivia on the nose, nodded at me, and went out the front door.
Three days later it happened.
ART
I never tried to do art before.
She always asked if I wanted her to teach me but I didn’t.
I don’t know why.
Now I want her to.
In Mom’s art room I’ve made it better even if it’s messier.
Like I pulled out her paintings and put them on the walls.
She used to have them out plus some of her drawings of us and the finger painting Olivia had done, but after everything happened,
she took them all down.
Instead, she put up prints of van Gogh or Klimt or someone famous.
Not her own stuff and not our stuff.
Right after she did it I asked her, “Where are all our paintings?” She was scribbling something on a pad of paper at her worktable
and didn’t respond.
“Mom?”
Still scribbling.
“Mom?”
She jumped. “Oh, Mazzy. What do you need?” She sounded mad.
“Nothing,” I said, and then I left and watched TV.
The room looks better now with her stuff and my stuff and Olivia’s finger painting.
BOOBS
I made a chart about boobs.
There are many different kinds.
Norma’s are droopy like
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