"I've called twice," Mama revealed, quickly swinging her eyes away.
"Twice? Since when?"
"It doesn't matter."
"He can't be that busy that he can't take out two minutes." Brenda pursued.
Mama was silent. Her face was in a battle, fighting to maintain its composure. She closed her eves and took a deep breath. Finally, we heard the garage door go up.
Mama smiled and stood up.
The door to the garage was right off the pantry behind the kitchen. We all waited, our eyes fixed on the living room doorway. He didn't appear.
"Matt?" Mama called.
"In a minute," he said sharply.
He was walking down the hallway to his office. We could hew him. Mama winked at us and waited. Brenda looked at her watch and sighed loudly. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I felt the ache in my chest and sucked in some air.
"What the hell's going on here?" we heard.
His footsteps grew louder and faster, and a moment later, he was in the doorway. He stood there looking at all of us, the confusion clear on his face.
Daddy was always a handsome man. He had my coal-black hair and my ebony eyes with his dark complexion that gave him the look of a man who worked in the sunlight and not in an office. His chin was sharp, with a firm, masculine mouth and a perfectly shaped straight nose.
"What's happening here? Why are you all dressed and sitting the living room? Why haven't you made dinner. Nora?"
Mama laughed nervously, hoping that he was kidding and that he would suddenly burst out with "Happy Birthday" and reveal some surprise gift besides the mountain bike they had bought her. He was always doing something like that.
"Well?"
Her smile sank into her face.
"It's Brenda's sixteenth birthday. Matt. Remember. I told you this morning we have reservations at Dickson's Steak House."
His eves blinked quickly, and then he turned on Mama. "No, you didn't tell me that."
"I did. Matt"
"I said you didn't. I think I'd remember something like that. You've been doing this sort of thing more and more lately, making plans without first checking with me. I've made arrangements to meet Bob Peterson at eight back at the office. We have depositions on the Morgan case to prepare."
"But... you certainly knew it was Brenda's birthday," she said. He glanced at Brenda.
She stood up sharply. "I don't care about any stupid birthday dinner, anyway." she said. She put her head down and charted out of the living room.
My heart was pounding.
"But..." Mama looked at Daddy.
"Well, I can't help it," he said. "We'll have a birthday dinner tomorrow night. What's the
difference? Just put on a steak for me here." He turned and left Mama and me staring at each other.
She pulled herself together quickly, sucking back her tears and taking a breath so deep I thought it had originated in her feet.
"April, do me a favor and cancel our
reservation at Dickson's, please," she said. "Then come help me set the table,