Mommy was eager to hear about the dance, and I was thankful that at least she could share my happiness. As I spoke, I signed to May, describing the decorations, the food, the music. Of course, I left out the unpleasantness over the ticket and mentioned nothing about Cary pulling Robert's car out of the sand.
"I thought you went to the dance, too, Cary," Daddy said when there was a pause.
"Hardly," Cary said disdainfully.
"Then where were you, boy? It was pretty late
when I heard you come in and hurry up those stairs." "I just met some friends at the BeanBag." he
said quickly.
"How can you hang around a custard stand all
night?" Daddy continued.
Cary shot a glance at me to see if I would say
anything, and I looked down at my plate.
"We were just hanging out," Cary said. "I didn't
realize how late it got."
Daddy shook his head.
"I don't know what you all have to talk about so
much that you lose track of time."
"You can pass a lot of time jawin', Jacob,"
Mommy said, "like when you get together with Pat
O'Reilly."
"That's different. We talk about business,"
Daddy retorted, reddening at the criticism. It was
enough to end the topic, for which both Cary and I
were grateful.
While we waited to go to brunch at Grandma
Olivia's, I took May out to the beach and made some
drawings while she sat beside me, asking me
questions about my date and about Robert. Drawing
was something I did to help relax, just like
needlework. I drew pictures of all of us, some from
memory, some from things I saw at the moment.
Everyone who saw my drawings thought they were