that a few miles away my bed was a couch in a rec room not so different from this. Suddenly it felt strange being with these kids who all had their own homes, while I wondered if, the next time I needed clothes, I’d be forced to go to Goodwill instead of the mall.
Talia turned to me. “You’re quiet tonight.”
I shrugged. “Just thinking.”
No one said a word.
“What? Is that so strange?” I asked.
“Definitely.” Noah grinned.
Tory’s mom came to the door to announce that the pizzas had arrived. There was a mass exodus toward the stairs, but I noticed that Ben was in the middle of a Space Invaders game. “Be up in a second,” I told Talia, then waited.
Ben kept playing, but I knew he’d seen me out of the corner of his eye. I didn’t know him that well. Talia had told me that once a month the Young Entrepreneurs invited a local businessperson to speak, and they’d asked her father, who told her afterward that he’d been seriously impressed with how Ben had grilled him about his real estate business.
Ben finished the game, turned to me, and frowned as if to say, Why aren’t you upstairs chowing down?
“Nice move before,” I said, and as his eyebrows dipped toward puzzlement, I added, “in the church kitchen.”
Ben nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Thanks . . . It’s too bad, you know?” He went past me and up the stairs. I stayed behind for a few moments, wondering what he’d meant. Was it too bad about the people who had to live in Dignityville? Or too bad about what had happened to me? Or was it that in his eyes, there was no difference?
10
Noah and I usually went for a long run on Saturday mornings to keep the cardio thing going. When I got back to the house after the run, Dad was in the driveway, putting Uncle Ron’s Callaways in the back of our car. “Got time for a round?” he asked.
Maybe once a year Dad and I played golf at the public course just to spend time together. I knew it was a Saturday, and not a great day for him to look for a job, but given our circumstances, it still didn’t feel right. Besides, once again I had a chance to earn some money helping Uncle Ron’s neighbor do yard work.
“Don’t think I can, sorry.”
“You sure?”
I almost asked if he was sure going golfing was the right thing to do. I was going to spend the afternoon working; why wasn’t he?
* * *
I worked for about four hours, and had gone back to Ron’s to take a break, when Mike and Ike burst into the rec room.
“Your dad’s in trouble!” Mike announced excitedly.
I went upstairs. Dad and Ron, both wearing golf clothes, were standing in the front hall. Ron’s face was red and I got the feeling that he’d been chewing Dad out big-time. They both gave me a look that said I should make myself scarce.
In the kitchen Mom and Aunt Julie, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, were at the counter. Mom looked grim, although it seemed a little strange that Aunt Julie was the one who appeared really upset.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“Ron came home to play golf and your father had taken his clubs,” Mom replied.
The implication hit me. “He took them without asking?”
“Ron’s been in the office every Saturday,” Aunt Julie explained. “There was no reason to think he’d take off early today.”
It seemed odd that she was defending Dad, but I had a feeling it was because Mom felt the way I did—that there was no excuse for taking those clubs without asking. But that was the kind of thing Dad sometimes did. More thoughtless than malicious, but bad judgment just the same.
Aunt Julie left the kitchen to find Alicia and get her out of earshot in case there was a round two between Ron and Dad.
“This isn’t working,” Mom said in a low voice now that wewere alone. “The negative energy in this house is overwhelming.”
“You can’t blame Ron for being angry,” I said. “I mean, what Dad did was incredibly dumb.”
“I know, but it’s
Talia turned to me. “You’re quiet tonight.”
I shrugged. “Just thinking.”
No one said a word.
“What? Is that so strange?” I asked.
“Definitely.” Noah grinned.
Tory’s mom came to the door to announce that the pizzas had arrived. There was a mass exodus toward the stairs, but I noticed that Ben was in the middle of a Space Invaders game. “Be up in a second,” I told Talia, then waited.
Ben kept playing, but I knew he’d seen me out of the corner of his eye. I didn’t know him that well. Talia had told me that once a month the Young Entrepreneurs invited a local businessperson to speak, and they’d asked her father, who told her afterward that he’d been seriously impressed with how Ben had grilled him about his real estate business.
Ben finished the game, turned to me, and frowned as if to say, Why aren’t you upstairs chowing down?
“Nice move before,” I said, and as his eyebrows dipped toward puzzlement, I added, “in the church kitchen.”
Ben nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Thanks . . . It’s too bad, you know?” He went past me and up the stairs. I stayed behind for a few moments, wondering what he’d meant. Was it too bad about the people who had to live in Dignityville? Or too bad about what had happened to me? Or was it that in his eyes, there was no difference?
10
Noah and I usually went for a long run on Saturday mornings to keep the cardio thing going. When I got back to the house after the run, Dad was in the driveway, putting Uncle Ron’s Callaways in the back of our car. “Got time for a round?” he asked.
Maybe once a year Dad and I played golf at the public course just to spend time together. I knew it was a Saturday, and not a great day for him to look for a job, but given our circumstances, it still didn’t feel right. Besides, once again I had a chance to earn some money helping Uncle Ron’s neighbor do yard work.
“Don’t think I can, sorry.”
“You sure?”
I almost asked if he was sure going golfing was the right thing to do. I was going to spend the afternoon working; why wasn’t he?
* * *
I worked for about four hours, and had gone back to Ron’s to take a break, when Mike and Ike burst into the rec room.
“Your dad’s in trouble!” Mike announced excitedly.
I went upstairs. Dad and Ron, both wearing golf clothes, were standing in the front hall. Ron’s face was red and I got the feeling that he’d been chewing Dad out big-time. They both gave me a look that said I should make myself scarce.
In the kitchen Mom and Aunt Julie, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, were at the counter. Mom looked grim, although it seemed a little strange that Aunt Julie was the one who appeared really upset.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“Ron came home to play golf and your father had taken his clubs,” Mom replied.
The implication hit me. “He took them without asking?”
“Ron’s been in the office every Saturday,” Aunt Julie explained. “There was no reason to think he’d take off early today.”
It seemed odd that she was defending Dad, but I had a feeling it was because Mom felt the way I did—that there was no excuse for taking those clubs without asking. But that was the kind of thing Dad sometimes did. More thoughtless than malicious, but bad judgment just the same.
Aunt Julie left the kitchen to find Alicia and get her out of earshot in case there was a round two between Ron and Dad.
“This isn’t working,” Mom said in a low voice now that wewere alone. “The negative energy in this house is overwhelming.”
“You can’t blame Ron for being angry,” I said. “I mean, what Dad did was incredibly dumb.”
“I know, but it’s
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