CHAPTER 3
1127 Words
CHAPTER 3Abby flung a leg over the arm of the chair she flopped into and stared across the living room. Mara took up her place on the couch and picked at her fingernails. After a few minutes of silence, Abby tapped her foot on the stone hearth of the fireplace.
Mara looked up, annoyed. “Do you have to keep doing that?”
Abby continued tapping.
“Abby, cut it out.”
“Only if you spill the beans. What’s going on?”
“Nothing is going on. We’re waiting for Mom to finish dinner, and then we are going to eat.” Mara didn’t look up from her fingers.
“With your little brother.”
“Right.”
“A little brother you didn’t have the last time I looked.”
“Right.”
“Where’d he come from? Where did he grow up?”
“I’m not really clear on all the details myself. Maybe he grew up in Arkansas or someplace like that.”
“I’m pretty sure they have bananas in Arkansas.”
“So?”
“Mara, the boy doesn’t know how to eat a banana. Even if he was raised in the jungle by natives, he’d know how to peel a banana.” Abby pulled out her phone and tapped on its screen. “Look, it says right here, bananas are the fourth most common agricultural product in the world. More than one hundred billion are eaten every year. Americans eat an average of twenty-seven pounds of bananas a year.”
“So?”
“Well, he sounds American. Who’s been eating his bananas?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Is he learning impaired or something?”
“No.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?” Mara looked up.
“Well, what’s the scoop?”
“Abby, like my mom said, this is a little personal, and we need some time to adjust. This isn’t a juicy piece of gossip from school we can just banter about.”
“Okay, I’m being too flippant. I get that. That’s me though. I’m your friend, and you should be able to confide in me. I mean, this is a big deal to keep all to yourself, don’t you think?”
“There’s been a lot going on lately. I’m not trying to shut you out. I haven’t really had enough time to figure out what I think, much less share it with someone else.”
Sam walked into the living room. “Dinner’s ready, you guys.”
“That was fast,” Abby said.
“Mom switched to soup and salad. She said she wasn’t up to dealing with a big entrée,” he said and turned back toward the kitchen.
“I bet,” Mara said. “I hope she’s up for the dinner conversation.”
* * *
A large clear plastic bowl of tossed greens sat at the center of the table with several bottles of salad dressing. Each of the four settings had a plate and a bowl of steaming soup as they sat down to the round table in the small dining area at the back of the kitchen.
“Here’s a basket of bread. The butter’s on the table on the far side of the salad bowl in front of Sam. Just ask him to pass it,” Diana said as she sat down next to her son.
Abby stepped around Mara and made a point of sitting next to Sam, across from Diana. That left the seat across from Sam for Mara, which she resigned herself to while eyeing her friend. They took turns with the tongs, placing salad on their plates, and passing the breadbasket and butter in silence.
“Mom, can you pass me the ranch dressing, please?” Mara asked.
“Here you go,” Diana said, handing it over and turning to Abby. “Abby, how is your senior year going?”
“Good. Classes are good. I wish Mara was there, but things are good. After Christmas I will only have three classes, and then I’ll be done,” she said, then turned to Sam. “Sam, where do you go to school?”
He looked up from his plate and quickly swallowed. “I don’t go to school.”
“What? You’re only like thirteen years old. Even Mara didn’t finish until she was almost seventeen.” Abby said, glancing at Mara and Diana.
“I’m fourteen,” Sam said.
“Sam has a private tutor in Portland. Technically you could say he is homeschooled,” Diana said. “We’re thinking about enrolling him in high school next year, if Mrs. Zimmerman thinks it’s a good idea.”
“We are?” Mara said.
“Yes, dear, we are,” Diana said, pointing to Sam and herself.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t realize sisters get a vote in such matters, or did you want to give me some sage advice on how to be a mother?” Diana smiled, mockingly waiting for a reply.
“I didn’t mean you had to tell me. I wondered why I hadn’t heard,” Mara said.
Sam pointed a piece of bread at Mara. “We talked about it today for the first time. What do you think?”
“I suppose if Mrs. Zimmerman thinks you’re prepared, academically, why not?” Mara said. Turning to her mother, she said, “You realize issues may come up that we can’t anticipate?”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, something like you not understanding that you don’t get out of the car in the middle of the drive-through at a fast-food joint.”
With a mouth full of salad, Sam said, “How was I supposed to know they were going to hand us the food through a window?” He laughed, holding his hand over his mouth. His face reddened, and then he gagged, coughed and spewed greens onto his plate. He wiped his mouth and said, “Oh, oh, tell Mom about the money machine.”
“He got very excited about the ATM at the mall.”
“Can I get one of those cards? You know, so I can get money out of the machine?”
Diana said, “You realize you have to put money into the bank before it will come out of the machine, right?”
“That’s what Mara said. Ping pays me for working at the bakery. Can I put that money in the bank and get a card?”
“I suppose we can work something out,” his mother said.
They ate in silence for a few minutes until Abby looked up and said, “So, Sam, where are you from? Where did you grow up?”
“I grew up in Portland,” he said.
Mara went pale and opened her mouth to say something, but Diana raised a finger on the hand next to her plate and tilted her head subtly. Mara closed her mouth and concentrated on her salad.
“Here? In Portland?” Abby jabbed the tabletop with a finger.
“Well, not exactly here.”
“You mean, not here in Oregon City, but in Portland.”
“No, I mean I grew up here—but in a different version of here.”
Abby pushed her glasses up her nose. “I’m not following you.”
“I grew up in a different realm, an alternate reality.”
Mara raised her hands into the air in front of her. “There you go! You can’t go around saying that to people. They are going to think you’re crazy.”
“Mara, settle down,” Diana said.
“You’re going to send him to high school? They are going to eat him alive!” Mara said.
“They are going to eat me?” Sam’s eyes widened.
Diana patted his hand. “No, sweetie. No one’s going to eat you. Your sister is a little overwrought at the moment. Now pass me the butter.”
Sam picked up the butter and extended his arm toward his mother. Abby’s gaze locked onto the tattoo on his forearm, an obelisk with a serpent coiled around it.
“Cool tat. Where’d you get that?”
Mara tensed up again and put down her fork.
Sam twisted up his arm to look at it. “Oh, Mom gave me that when I was a baby.”
“You mean, your stepmom, from the other version of here?” Abby said.
“I guess you could say that,” Sam said.
Abby pressed her lips together and nodded.
Mara exhaled and wished the meal would end.
- Writer
