If you hide on the first step above the landing, you can hear what people are saying in our kitchen. This is how I discovered why Mom and Dad really said no to the cake class.
“I just don’t think it’s such a good idea,” Mom said.
“I know,” Dad said. “But I can’t help but feel guilty. It’s my fault money is tight.”
Mom started banging some pots around. She had to start dinner because Dad forgot to write a Sticky Note, reminding himself to do it. Sticky Notes were Dad’s thing. He used so many that Mom bought them in bulk at Save Club.
“Should we have spaghetti or spaghetti?” Mom asked.
Dad laughed and told her spaghetti sounded good. (My parents are so weird.) There were more cooking noises. Pots and spoons banging. Water running. The refrigerator being opened and closed. I listened hard.
“What’s really going on?” Dad asked. His voice had turned serious again.
There was a pause; then Mom spoke. “I’m worried it’ll be just another thing she quits after a couple of weeks.”
I nearly toppled off the step. Did I hear that right?
Mom went on, “I think the only reason she wants to is because the woman from the cable show is teaching it.”
“What’s wrong with that? It’s her favorite show,” Dad said.
“Nothing,” Mom said. “Except I’d bet my last cup of coffee that the novelty will wear off after a few weeks.”
“Yeah, but who knows? Maybe she won’t quit this time,” Dad said.
I missed the rest of the conversation because Sam came out of his bedroom and caught me on the stairs.
“Eavesdrop much?” he asked.
I glared at him, and he shrugged. “Just saying,” he said.
“Be a pain much?” I asked. “Just saying.”
Sam grinned; but instead of getting into it with him, I went to my room and threw myself down on the bed to think.