"Mama, this is terrible. It's Brenda's Sweet Sixteen dinner!"
"Just do as I ask, please." she said.
She turned quickly so I wouldn't see her tears. I was glad about that. I didn't want her to see mine. I made the phone call and then set the table while she worked quickly to prepare a dinner for us. I could hear her sniffles. but I didn't ask her if she was crying or say anything. Instead. I went to Brenda's room and knocked on her door.
"What is it?" she snapped.
"It's just me."
"What do you want?" she asked without opening the door. "Mama's making us dinner. We canceled the reservation at the restaurant."
"I don't care."
"I'm sorry. Brenda."
I stood by the door, waiting. listening. Brenda rarely ever showed me any sadness. I used to wish and wish I could be as strong as she was, but Mama once said something I never forgot. She said. "Brenda cries on the inside, and when you keep your tears inside you all the time, you have a better chance of drowning in your sadness."
"Can I give you your present from me?" I asked through the closed door.
She was quiet.
Then the door opened, and I saw she had changed back into her jeans and the school sweatshirt that Daddy said was practically her second skin because she wore it so much. When he had first said it, it was like a funny joke, but now it was more like a bitter criticism.
"I'm not in the birthday mood. April. I'm sorry." she said, her arms folded, her eyelids lowered like tiny flags of surrender.
"I'd still like to give you your present.. I was going to hide it in the car and go out and get it while we were eating at the restaurant."
She swung her eyes, and then her shoulders relaxed. "Okay, give it to me if you want."
"I'll be right back." I said, and ran out to the garage where I had it hidden. Then I returned to her room and handed it to her.
She sat on her bed and opened the box. With Mama's help. I had bought her a beautiful athletic suit. It had black with spice trim boot-bottom pants, a black cap-sleeve sport top, and a matching jacket.
"This is great, April," she said, holding up the jacket. "It's beautiful."
"I picked it out myself." I said proudly.
"You did great, April," she said. She looked at me a moment and then reached out, pulled me to her. and hugged me harder and closer than she had ever done. She held me longer, too. I had the feeling she wanted to keep me from seeing any tears in her eyes.
Mama called to us.
"I don't feel very hungry," Brenda muttered. She rose and put the athletic suit on her dresser.
"Mama will cry if you don't come to dinner," I said.
"I know."
We left her room and went to the dining room. I helped Mama bring out the vegetables, the bread, and the steak she had prepared. Brenda got the jug of cold water, the butter, and some steak sauce Daddy liked. He still had not appeared.
"Matt," she called to him. "Dinner's ready."
"I'm on the phone." we heard.
Mama sat, and we all stared at the food on the table.. It was nearly a good five minutes before Daddy appeared, hurrying to the table. He stabbed a steak, put it on his plate without speaking, and then cut it and grimaced.
"It's overdone. Nora." he moaned.
"No, it's not. Matt. It's just how you always eat it and how I always prepare it."