"Smart kid."
"You have no idea," I said, feeling the hint of a real smile. "So anyway, Josh keeps saying 'no thanks' to the gravy, but Loretta won't take no for an answer. So she shoves at this vase, and it tips over. Flowers spill, the vase cracks, and my dad gets mad."
"At Loretta?"
I gave a derisive snort. "Dream on. No. At Josh. So my dad grabs a ladle and starting slopping all this gravy onto Josh's plate, one scoop after another. And this crap gets on everything, not just the potatoes either." I shook my head. "The chicken, the corn, even the salad."
I closed my eyes as if I could somehow block out the memory. Someday, Josh and I might be able to laugh about it. But someday seemed a long ways off.
I glanced at Lawton. Any trace of good humor had had long since vanished. "Keep going," he said.
"So," I continued, "my dad tells Josh that he's not getting another thing to eat 'til he finishes what's on his plate, even though it looks like some fish threw up on it."
"What happened? Did he eat it?"
I shook my head. "No. Josh just sits there, looking down at his plate, and my dad keeps hassling him, saying what a great cook Loretta is, and how lucky Josh is to be living under her roof. And the whole time, Loretta's just sitting there with this half-smile on her face, like everything is turning out exactly like she planned. And Josh, he doesn't eat anything else. Not one bite. And I can tell he wants to cry."
I blew out a breath. "But he's in fourth grade. Or at least he was back then, so he's too big to cry. And he's too little to take on my dad, obviously, or Loretta for that matter. So he doesn't do anything but stare at his plate until everyone else is done."
"But what'dyoudo?" Lawton said. "You were there, so–"
"Yeah. I was there. And IknewI'd be smart to stay out of it."
Lawton sounded confused. "Because you didn't need the trouble?"
I turned sideways to face him. The salad wobbled precariously. I grabbed it and held on for dear life. "No," I said, "Because I know better, or at least I should've. Because every time I try to help, I just make it worse."
"Is that what happened this time?"
"Oh yeah. Because stupid me, I couldn't just let it go. But doing the thing Iwantto do is completely out of the question."
"What was that?"
"Breaking that damn vase over her head."
"Sounds good to me," he said.
"Yeah, but I don't want to make everything worse. So as nice as I could, I suggest letting Josh get a new plate. I say stuff like, 'I think we've all learned a good lesson here.'" I shook my head. "What a load of crap. Anyway, I get Josh to say he'll try some gravy on his potatoes if we can just start over."
"So that's what happened?"
"Hell no. Because by now, my dad's all worked up. He gives us this big lecture on how we don't appreciate how much Loretta's done for us. Then one thing leads to another, and I'm so stupid that I actually give an honest opinion on why Loretta made that stupid gravy in the first place."
"And what happened then?"
"Well, before I know it, Loretta takes Josh's plate and crashes it onto the floor, food and all. Then she goes after the serving dishes, the gravy boat, the chicken platter, a couple of wine glasses. It totally sucks, because everyone's freaking out. But part of me's thinking 'So what? At least Josh won't have to eat a bunch of fish barf.'"
I pushed a hand through my hair. "And in the end, Loretta storms off to her room, and my dad gives us yet another lecture, this one about how we ruined Loretta's favorite holiday."
"Easter?"
"Supposedly. But they say that about every holiday, so I dunno. Talk-Like-a-Pirate-Day could be her favorite for all I know. Anyway, after my Dad tells me to get the hell out, Josh is stuck dealing with the fallout."
I looked down at my lap. "And as far as that gravy? Loretta made another batch, special just for him. And they wouldn't give him anything else to eat until the whole thing was gone. And they wouldn’t let him eat anyplace else either."
I swallowed a lump, and continued. "And Iknewit was all my fault. Because if I hadn't said something, it would've ended at dinner, one way or another. Swear to God, I'd have eaten that whole bowl myself if I could, but after I was kicked out, I wasn't allowed inside at all for at least a year."
"When you left, you couldn’t take him with you?"
