brows, studying Scott who tried to appear nonchalant, but that only proved to Derek that Scott was hiding something. “Why not?”
“Busy.”
“Yeah, well, don’t make it a habit.”
A few minutes later, Scott crossed his carefully tended front lawn and entered his turn-of-the-century one-story white house. He walked through the recently vacuumed living room, smelling of wood cleaner. He continued to the back of the house, passed the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and moved toward the tidy kitchen, dining area, and small family room.
He strolled into the dining area and smiled at his two-year-old sister. “Scottie!” Megan squealed. She raised her arms into the air, wanting Scott to lift her out of the high chair. He released the strap buckle.
“How’s my little Megan doing?” he asked, pulling her out and twirling her around. She giggled, grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked it. “Ouch,” Scott said and released her grip. “Megan, you keep pulling my hair.”
His mother laughed as she brought his grilled cheese sandwiches to the table. “If it wasn’t so long, she wouldn’t be able to grab it.”
Scott glanced at his mom’s blond shoulder-length hair. “She pulls your hair and I don’t see you rushing out to get it cut.”
His mom furrowed her brows, irritated by his remark. “Don’t get smart. Besides, that’s not the point.” Placing the sandwich roughly on the table, she added, “Eat your lunch, and if you get smart again, you’re grounded.”
At 5:15 that evening, Scott was in his bedroom when he heard his dad enter the house. His dad had once told him coming home from work was his most enjoyable time of day, especially if he came home to a peaceful environment. Through his bedroom door, Scott heard Megan squeal as she demanded affection from him. He could picture his dad picking up Megan, tossing her into the air, and catching her. Then he’d walk into the kitchen to see Scott’s mom. Even after fifteen years of marriage, his dad was always happy to see her. They’d kiss. After that, his dad would raise his brows and say some wacky comment like, “You look good.”
If Scott’s mom was in a decent mood, she’d reply, “You look better.”
His dad would add, “You look the best.” Then his parents would laugh as if they had some private joke. The entire scene was weird, but Scott was just glad his parents loved each other.
Scott left his bedroom and met up with his dad when he was walking into their small family room. After a pat on the back, his dad asked, “How was your day?”
Having to listen to his mom pester him several times today about his hair, Scott complained, “Mom keeps nagging me about my hair.”
His dad frowned, giving him the look that said, “Why are you two constantly at each other?” As his dad sat on his tan reclining chair in the family room, he stated firmly, “Let it go, Scott.”
Whenever his dad spoke this directly, it was best to take his advice. Scott sat on the sofa and wisely changed the subject to football, ignoring the frustration his mom always managed to ignite.
After eating supper, Scott usually relaxed with his parents and his sister in the family room where his dad would entertain Megan, then read the newspaper, and finally researched any one of the American wars. The strategies the generals used to win, the politics involved, and the soldiers’ sacrifices kept his dad reading for hours. To obtain the soldiers’ eyewitness input, his dad visited the VFW. After many hours of sitting with World War II, Korean, and Vietnam veterans, they shared their stories with him. Although his dad worked at the town’s toy factory, he still found time to repair the veterans’ cars free of charge which was his way of showing his enormous respect for their sacrifice to the country.
His mom, on the other hand, worked on her scrapbooking. All of her photo albums were up-to-date. Scott had three complete photo albums, and currently, his mom was working on Megan’s.
On this particular evening, Scott rested in his bedroom. After trying to read for nearly thirty minutes, he groaned, climbed off his bed, and placed his astrology book on the top shelf of his bookcase alongside his fix-it yourself, car repair, and gardening books. Scott grabbed his racquetball out of his desk drawer. He laid down on his bed, threw the ball against the wall above the closet doors, and thought about his mom’s changing moods.
Her moods could go from demanding to sadness to depression all in one day. Sometimes one look at her only son would bring tears to her eyes. In fifth grade, he asked his mom what he had done to make her cry. To his despair, she burst into tears, hugging him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. Later that evening, his dad came into his bedroom and explained how his mom’s crying had nothing to do with him. Scott nodded as if he believed his dad’s statement, but he didn’t.
Then last year on Megan’s first birthday, he strolled to the kitchen late that night for a drink of water. He stopped halfway. His parents were in the kitchen having a discussion. His mom’s words remain embedded in his memory. “Megan is such a sweetheart. She doesn’t even know how much she has filled the empty space inside my heart. She makes me so happy.” After hearing her comment, Scott returned to his room, no longer thirsty.
Scott threw the ball against the wall harder than usual and reminded himself, at least Megan makes his mom happy.
3
Felicia
Later in the evening at six fifteen, the doorbell rang. Scott opened it to see Felicia Woods, his next-door neighbor, standing outside. He gave a quick nod. “You ready to leave?” he asked as he opened the front door wider.
“Soon,” Felicia replied as she entered the house. She moved past him. “First I want to show your mom my new clothes.”
Scott analyzed her outfit. As always, his neighbor looked fashionable wearing a jean skirt, a yellow sleeveless blouse, and blue sandals. Felicia’s long brown hair was pulled back into a braid while strands of curled hair framed her face. Her brown eyes were radiant with expectation.
Scott followed Felicia to the family room. She had spent extra time on her appearance tonight. He just hoped she wasn’t trying to impress Randy who was spending too much time with her lately.
As they entered the room, Megan spotted Felicia and squealed with childish delight. Felicia scooped her up, gave her a hug, and glanced at Scott’s parents who sat on their worn russet couch. She said, “I’m always amazed how Megan looks like you more and more every day, Mrs. Furman.”
Hearing Felicia’s familiar comment, Michael Furman joked, “At least Megan will be good-looking.”
As her surrogate father teased her, Felicia smiled. “Yes, but you’re good looking too, Mr. Furman. I just don’t know where Scott got his looks from.” She laughed at her own joke and set Megan gently onto the floor. Felicia moved closer to Scott’s mother and stretched out her foot. “What do you think of my new sandals?”
“I like them. Those sandals would go perfectly with my new summer dress. Where did you get them?”
“They were on sale at the Shoe Shack.”
“I’ll have to buy myself a pair.” Caitlyn Furman paused, noticing Felicia’s new clothes and attractive hairstyle. “You look very pretty tonight. You’re going to have a hard time keeping
