their Wednesday-night dinners, he’d pull into the driveway and honk. Sometimes Jennifer was with him. Odessa liked the just-Dad nights, but ever since Christmas and the dictionary with the purple underlined words, she didn’t mind so much when Jennifer came along.
On the Wednesday after Odessa had gone back to find Mom’s keys in the freezer so Mom could make the job interview, Dad came to the front door and rang the bell.
Odessa opened it. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that a way to greet your dad?” He spread his arms out wide and she stepped into them. He pulled her close.
“That’s better,” he whispered into her ear. He smelled like his minty tummy tablets. Odessa missed that smell.
“OLIVER,” she shouted up the stairs. “LET’S GO!”
“What a minute,” Dad said. “Let’s go inside and talk a little.”
Odessa didn’t like any sort of conversation that adults announced you were having before you had it. First there was the “talk” about how Mom and Dad decided it would be better to live apart and then the “talk” about how they were going to sell the house and of course the “talk” about Dad getting re married.
“Can’t we just go to dinner?”
Mom walked up and Dad put his arm out. It was sort of like a handshake, but a little bit like a hug.
“Come on into the kitchen,” Mom said.
Odessa followed them.
“How’re things?” Dad asked Mom.
“Oh, you know, pretty good,” Mom answered.
There they were, walking and talking like two old friends meeting each other on the street.
Her parents could be so weird.
Oliver came downstairs and took a look at the three of them around the kitchen table. Odessa could tell he was just as confused and uncomfortable as she was.
“So your dad and I want to talk to you about some changes,” Mom said.
“I know there have been so many lately,” Dad added, “and I’m sorry for that, I truly am, but sometimes change is good, and change can be exciting, and in this case you should be proud of your mother for getting a really great job.”
And proud of me, Odessa wanted to yell. I’m the one who found her keys.
“You got a job?” Oliver asked, shocked, like it had never occurred to him that one of her “meetings” might lead to that.
“Yes, honey, I did. At JK Design Studio. I’m going back to interior designing. I’ll be doing some landscaping work too.”
“That’s great, Mom.” Odessa tried her best to sound excited.
“Yes, it’s great, but it means we have to make some new arrangements. I’ll be out of the house more than I’d like.”
I’d like you to be out of the house not at all.
Odessa didn’t say this out loud. She sat there fingering her necklace with the peace sign, imagining how a key might feel hanging from her neck on a shiny new chain.
“I’ve talked to Mrs. Grisham next door,” Mom continued. “She’s agreed to watch you on the days you don’t have after-school activities.”
“The landlady?” Oliver asked.
“Do you know another Mrs. Grisham who lives next door?” Odessa snapped. Oliver’s face fell.
“She used to be a teacher, so she can be of some help with your homework.”
If Mom couldn’t be home, at least it would be Mrs. Grisham and not some stranger greeting her after school. Mrs. Grisham was her friend, even if she was old.
“And you can always call me at work if you need anything at all,” Dad added.
Odessa looked at her father. What she wanted to say was: Why are you even here? But she knew it might come out sounding mean, so she searched for better words.
“Why are you even here?” she asked, because sometimes only certain words work.
Dad cleared his throat and exchanged a look with Mom. “Because in spite of all the changes, we’re still a family.”
If we’re still a family, why are you remarrying Jennifer?
Odessa didn’t say this out loud either.
Instead she grabbed her coat and went to dinner with Dad and Oliver, just the three of them, and
On the Wednesday after Odessa had gone back to find Mom’s keys in the freezer so Mom could make the job interview, Dad came to the front door and rang the bell.
Odessa opened it. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that a way to greet your dad?” He spread his arms out wide and she stepped into them. He pulled her close.
“That’s better,” he whispered into her ear. He smelled like his minty tummy tablets. Odessa missed that smell.
“OLIVER,” she shouted up the stairs. “LET’S GO!”
“What a minute,” Dad said. “Let’s go inside and talk a little.”
Odessa didn’t like any sort of conversation that adults announced you were having before you had it. First there was the “talk” about how Mom and Dad decided it would be better to live apart and then the “talk” about how they were going to sell the house and of course the “talk” about Dad getting re married.
“Can’t we just go to dinner?”
Mom walked up and Dad put his arm out. It was sort of like a handshake, but a little bit like a hug.
“Come on into the kitchen,” Mom said.
Odessa followed them.
“How’re things?” Dad asked Mom.
“Oh, you know, pretty good,” Mom answered.
There they were, walking and talking like two old friends meeting each other on the street.
Her parents could be so weird.
Oliver came downstairs and took a look at the three of them around the kitchen table. Odessa could tell he was just as confused and uncomfortable as she was.
“So your dad and I want to talk to you about some changes,” Mom said.
“I know there have been so many lately,” Dad added, “and I’m sorry for that, I truly am, but sometimes change is good, and change can be exciting, and in this case you should be proud of your mother for getting a really great job.”
And proud of me, Odessa wanted to yell. I’m the one who found her keys.
“You got a job?” Oliver asked, shocked, like it had never occurred to him that one of her “meetings” might lead to that.
“Yes, honey, I did. At JK Design Studio. I’m going back to interior designing. I’ll be doing some landscaping work too.”
“That’s great, Mom.” Odessa tried her best to sound excited.
“Yes, it’s great, but it means we have to make some new arrangements. I’ll be out of the house more than I’d like.”
I’d like you to be out of the house not at all.
Odessa didn’t say this out loud. She sat there fingering her necklace with the peace sign, imagining how a key might feel hanging from her neck on a shiny new chain.
“I’ve talked to Mrs. Grisham next door,” Mom continued. “She’s agreed to watch you on the days you don’t have after-school activities.”
“The landlady?” Oliver asked.
“Do you know another Mrs. Grisham who lives next door?” Odessa snapped. Oliver’s face fell.
“She used to be a teacher, so she can be of some help with your homework.”
If Mom couldn’t be home, at least it would be Mrs. Grisham and not some stranger greeting her after school. Mrs. Grisham was her friend, even if she was old.
“And you can always call me at work if you need anything at all,” Dad added.
Odessa looked at her father. What she wanted to say was: Why are you even here? But she knew it might come out sounding mean, so she searched for better words.
“Why are you even here?” she asked, because sometimes only certain words work.
Dad cleared his throat and exchanged a look with Mom. “Because in spite of all the changes, we’re still a family.”
If we’re still a family, why are you remarrying Jennifer?
Odessa didn’t say this out loud either.
Instead she grabbed her coat and went to dinner with Dad and Oliver, just the three of them, and
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