“Pop loves the Front Porch steaks. How about Sarah and I get there by five and put our name in, so y’all don’t have to wait on a table?”
Frowning, she continued chopping. “I guess I’ll think that over. Don’t forget, Kent will meet us there, too. He’s flying into Knoxville, then driving over. Hired himself some fancy car.” Looking up at me, she informed more than asked, “I thought we could all spend some time together as a family on Saturday afternoon since everyone’ll be in town and Kent flies back that night.”
Who would’ve known that something good would come out of this clown gig? Because I’d do almost anything to get out of spending time with my older brother, including dressing up like a clown.
“I have some things going on Saturday afternoon, but after that I’ll be around.”
Momma furrowed her brow at me. “What do you have going on Saturday afternoon?”
“Just a job for Sam.”
“You know, with your brother and sister both home, you could ask them some questions about their jobs. Maybe it’s time to start school again, now that you’re more mature.”
And that was my cue. I started to back up toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “That’s exactly what these past six years were, biding my time so I could major in accounting,” I replied. There were only so many comments I could take before they began to chafe.
“You know that’s not how I meant it.”
I sighed, nodding to agree for agreement’s sake, then started to turn.
“Your daddy wants to talk to you. Didn’t he stop you on your way in?”
Shaking my head, I snuck another carrot as I walked past her toward the TV room. I found Pop there in his recliner, Braves game on, keeping score per usual.
“Hey Pop, how’s the game?” I asked, taking a seat on the couch to his left.
“Not my choice for the lead off.” He shook his head, complaining about the batting order. “But I’ve seen worse.”
We were quiet until the inning was over. Putting down the clicker, he ran a hand through his hair. His curly Vargas hair that I inherited had thinned some, but the wild springing curls were still there. Granted, now they had more salt than pepper.
“How’s work today, son? You still like working at the club?” He shifted in his recliner, then started pulling at a loose thread on his shirt.
I nodded slowly, confused by his question. Unlike Momma, Pop rarely asked me about my jobs.
“Right, right,” he responded, abandoning the loose string to take off his readers, fiddling with the stems in his lap.
“And tomorrow you’re driving folks around?”
Frowning, I wondered why he wasn’t making eye contact with me. “Yes, I’ll be driving for Lyft, just like every other Monday.”
He must have found his glasses to be dirty, as he was now cleaning them thoroughly with his shirttail.
“And that theater practice, the one with Jack’s wife and that other gal, you still liking that?”
My frown deepened, even though I always found it entertaining how unfazed Pop was by Sienna and Rae—a.k.a. Sienna Diaz and Raquel Ezra, two well-known actresses who lived in Green Valley. Of course, I don’t think of them as movie stars, either. I’d met Rae through her husband, Jackson. And I’d known Sienna and her husband Jethro Winston for years, having babysat her kids on occasion. While Rae and Sienna weren’t actually my sisters, they’d somehow adopted me over the years, like I was some sort of quasi younger brother they couldn’t help but fuss over. So, when they started a program called Young Wills, a theater program for kids in the Green Valley elementary and middle schools, they asked if I was interested in helping run it with them.
“Yup. It’s been goin’ real good for more than a year now.”
“Good, good,” he replied almost absently, still cleaning his glasses.
“Things are good, Pop.” I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees. “Everything alright?” Could it be possible that he and Momma needed money? Why else would he be asking about my jobs? I hadn’t seen him this uncomfortable since three Thanksgivings ago when my cousin Patrick announced he was changing his name, moving to Miami, and starring in a burlesque show. It was still one of my favorite memories. My Aunt Midge, his mother, practically choked on her turkey.
“Nah, nothing’s wrong. Just that your momma and I are, as you know, retired now and starting to talk about the future. Midge and Rick have wanted us to visit them in Florida a few years now and Kent’s been trying to get us down by him, too. Might be better for my arthritis being out of here in the winter, at least avoiding the coldest days.”
The game came back on, but he kept the TV muted, a telltale sign that he had more on his mind.
“We were thinking of going down there to visit next week.”
This was surprising to say the least, but I recovered quickly. “A vacation in Florida sounds great. You and Momma deserve it. Don’t worry about anything here. You know I’ll take care of the house.”
