Page 26 of Try Me
“There he is.” My dad’s voice was a booming welcome I only ever heard on occasions like this, and he stood from his chair as I bent down to give Mom a kiss on the cheek. The bright smile she gave me assured me she was in a good place, and I felt my posture loosening slightly.
I straightened in time to take the hand that shot out for a shake, and followed the tanned arm all the way up to… “John.” I wasn’t quick enough to cover my surprise, and he chuckled.
“I assume you two know each other.” My dad’s sly smile shifted into his politician smile, the one he could keep fixed to his face for hours if required. “It was a last-minute invitation. I’m not sure if John mentioned it, but he’s running for city council this fall.”
“It’s not exactly something that comes up in the day to day.” John flashed a congenial smile. He wasn’t my dad’s usual fare in terms of acquaintances, in that he had no wrinkles and a sense of wealth didn’t pour off him as if he’d bottled it up and spritzed it liberally over himself. He was attractive, actually, in linen pants and a button-down. And so far, he’d been hella easy to work with at the firm.
But if he was here, there was definitely a reason.
“What year did you graduate from the U, son? It’s slipped my mind.”
“2012,” we both said at the same time, then laughed. John had shared that last week at the firm when we were sitting around in a conference room waiting on a client.
My dad gestured to one of the chairs beside him like I was a guest, too. Unsurprising since whenever he was actually at home lately, I felt like one. “We were just talking about proposals to expand the entertainment district downtown.”
“Oh. Nice.” My interest level flatlined immediately. I took a sip of my drink. The bite when I took the first swallow confirmed the Lynchburg portion of the lemonade. Another sip sent a welcome heat coursing through my stomach.
“Yeah. I’d love to actually keep more graduates in town post-college rather than losing them to DC. Revitalizing some of the old warehouse and historic districts with a mixture of retail, restaurants, and parks would give people more options than the strip on Wilmont,” John said, eyes alight with passion that I studied skeptically. Was this what adulthood had in store for me? He seemed genuine enough, though. “Which, by the way, I greatly abused back in the day,” he added with a chuckle.
They droned on, and I mentally checked out the way my mom already had. She was looking out on the lawn, Botoxed brow smooth, a musing half-smile on her face while my mind time-traveled back to the firm and how Chet asking about her had caught me off guard. I wondered what he was doing this weekend. Did he have a circle of friends he hung out with? I knew he was taking a summer class like me, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Did he have another job?
“Son?” The edge in my father’s voice belied his amiable smile. “How about it?”
I swam out of my thoughts. “You said golf?”
The humor in John’s eyes told me he knew I was a million miles away. That maybe he even sympathized. “A little friendly competition next weekend? My dad’ll be coming into town.” His grin widened. “Your dad told me earlier you’ve got a wicked swing.”
“As long as there’s zero wind, the humidity is under 50 percent, and the temperature is right at about 73 degrees, I’m dangerous,” I joked. “Otherwise, I’m excellent at keeping the cooler stocked. I’ve actually got plans already, though.” Nate, Eric, Sam, Jesse, and I were going to do an overnight on the Huskill River. I’d been looking forward to it for weeks.
“Ah, well, some other time—”
“He’ll be there.” My dad’s eyes had gone flinty and gray, his stare boring into me. “You can forgo getting soused poolside for a day, I’m sure.”
As if that was all I did.
A beat of silence passed before I shrugged. “Yeah, sure. No problem. Golf sounds great.”
“Good.” Dad’s smile reappeared. “Now tell us how it’s been going at the firm. John says you’re a real go-getter.”
Once John had gone and my mom vanished to her bedroom, I headed into the kitchen where Marta was wrapping up leftovers.
“I’ve got you a plate to take home.” She pointed to a Pyrex container on the counter. “Think the other boys will want some? I can make up some more to-go containers.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “But I’ll do it.”
She glanced over her shoulder to catch me eyeing the dishes in the sink and cracked a smile. “The dishes or the food?”
“I can do both.”
She tsked me and handed me the spoon she was using to scoop mashed potatoes, then went to the sink. I passed her the utensils when I was done, then opened the dishwasher and stuck the dishes in as she rinsed them. We’d almost finished when I glanced up and to find my dad standing in the archway. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there watching us, but when he realized I’d caught sight of him, he ticked his chin toward the hallway.
Marta did her usual goodbye routine of trying to squeeze the life out of me. “I swear you’ve gotten weaker since last month,” I teased, prodding her bicep. On New Year’s Day, she’d asked me to write out a workout plan for her to help shed some pounds, and then to my complete surprise, she’d actually followed it diligently. So now I made her a new one every month and left it in the exercise room in our basement. I was pretty sure now that I wasn’t living at home anymore, she was the only one using it.
“You’ve grown into such a scoundrel,” she replied affectionately. If my dad hadn’t been standing there, she would’ve said “asshole.”
We walked down the hall hung with oil paintings my mom had commissioned of the three of us, including one of me at age two that we never could’ve afforded back then. She’d had them done years later based on a photograph because she’d seen similar paintings in other fancy houses and had wanted to fit in. I wondered if she ever thought about it anymore. Now people tried to fit in around them.
In his office, my dad pointed at one of the chairs across from the huge mahogany island that served as his desk.