Table conversation at the Mayfield home was a mix of Diane and Emily’s trying to paint a bright face on the changed vacation plans, Anthony’s vociferously expressing his displeasure, and Michelle’s sitting in sullen silence as she pushed around the spaghetti on her dinner plate.
“Look. It’s not like you guys are being asked to go to boot camp or something,” Diane said. “Do you have any idea how many kids would do anything to have a vacation at the beach?”
“Ah, Mom, give it up, will you?” Anthony shook his head. “Going to the beach is okay, but we’ve gone to Amagansett lots of other summers. Been there, done that. I told my friends I was going to the Grand Canyon, and now I’ll seem like such a dork. If you ask me, the Jersey Shore doesn’t even come close to the Grand Canyon.”
Diane’s patience was wearing thin. “You know what, Anthony? I am sorry we aren’t going on the trip we were planning on. I really am, honey. But if I want to keep my job at KEY News, I have to take this assignment. That’s all there is to it. You just have to understand.” She paused, concerned that what she was tempted to say next would wound her son. But she decided to go ahead. Father in jail or not, her son needed to get it straight. “And to tell you the truth, Anthony, you sound like a spoiled brat.”
Now Anthony joined his sister, staring at his plate in silence.
“More garlic bread, anybody?” Emily asked, trying to break the heavy mood. As the bread basket went around the table, Diane noted that her daughter passed on it while the three others at the table each took another piece.
“Michelle, Emily’s garlic bread is delicious.” Diane held the basket out again to her daughter. “Why don’t you have some, sweetheart?”
“Because I’ve already had two pieces, Mom.” Michelle didn’t bother keeping the exasperation out of her voice.
Diane was ready to put her daughter in her place for the snippy response, but she knew that if she came down too hard, Michelle would only storm off and leave the rest of her dinner uneaten. Lately it seemed the fourteen-year-old was almost looking for a reason to get angry. Diane had been chalking it up as a reaction to the stress and embarrassment caused by knowing that her father was in jail along with a predictable case of teenage rebellion. But despite the many conversations she had had with her daughter, things were not getting better.
Deciding to ignore Michelle’s comment, Diane plowed ahead, describing the advantages of their new trip. “Look. There’s the beach every day. We can go to the movies or play miniature golf at night. There must be rides on the boardwalk somewhere nearby, so we can do that. Maybe there will be a concert you guys would want to see. Anthony, after dinner, why don’t you see what you can find out on the Internet?”
At that, Anthony lifted his digital camera, held it steady with both hands, framed his mother in the light display, and pressed down on the shutter release. The camera’s flash blinded Diane.
“Anthony!” Diane yelled, exasperated. “I’ve told you a million times not to bring that thing to the table. Daddy and I wanted you to have the camera as a positive influence, but you’re getting to be so annoying with it. If you bring it to the table one more time, you can take a picture of me killing you!”
The rest of the dinner conversation consisted of Diane and Emily talking over what still needed to be done before the family left for Ocean Grove in the morning.
“May I be excused, please?” asked Michelle, and Diane felt a moment of relief. All traces of politeness were not entirely gone. There was hope.
“Yes. Go ahead.”
“Me too?”
“Yes, Anthony. You too.”
Both siblings took their plates into the kitchen. Michelle scraped hers into the trash can, and Anthony left his on the counter next to the sink.
“You did the cooking, Em. I’ll clean up,” Diane volunteered.
“No argument from me.” Emily grinned. “I’m going to run out to the drugstore and get some sunscreen and lip balm. Want anything?”
“A large bottle of Advil would probably be a good idea.”
“Done.”
Diane heard the front door of the apartment click closed as she took Anthony’s plate and napkin from the countertop and pushed her foot down on the trash can pedal. She was about to scrape the pasta left on the plate into the garbage when her eyes fell on the contents already in the can. Two pieces of untouched garlic bread lay on top of Michelle’s paper napkin.