The Humdrum Life of a Hero

Chapter 9.

I slam the door shut and lock it before either one of them can come back inside, then I lean my forehead on the doorframe and take a deep breath, which I haven't been able to do since my father came home.

My father arriving home around 12:30 in the wee hours of Saturday morning with the boys in tow when I specifically asked him to have them home at 10:30 was just the tip of the iceberg.

Since they arrived home two hours late, the boys barely had seven hours of sleep in them when I shook them awake bright and early at 7:30. Connor actually fell asleep while his spoon was inches away from his mouth. Then, my father woke up and acted like everything was just dandy when we all piled into my car and headed off to the soccer game.

While in the process of completely becoming frosbitten in the bleachers, my father decided to make small talk, which I found just bizarre. Generally, the only time my father talks is to make a joke or scold someone. "So, how is everyone doing?"

I glanced over at him, confused. "Fine, I guess."

"Tony's not causing you much trouble is he?"

He always asks about Tony's behavior because of Tony's full-ride scholarship that he can't screw-up. If anyone was to get wind of some of the things I've seen him do over the past couple of years, that scholarship would be revoked quicker than it was given, and it was given to him moments after their state championship game last year. I would assume colleges frown upon the perpetual state of drunkeness Tony always seems to be in on the weekends.

"Eh, I mean he's Tony. He's always going to be causing some trouble, but nothing I can't handle," I smiled at my father, protecting Tony's ass like the pro I've had to become.

"That is very true, Sarasota," he laughed. "The twins fairing well?"

"They fight with each other, but I'm not worried about it. From all the parenting books I've checked out, their behavior is specatcular for kids whose parents abandoned them," I said.

My father glared at me, unhappy about what've I said. "I haven't abandoned them."

Sometimes, it feels like you have, I wanted to tell him, but that might've killed him. "I didn't mean you," I whispered.

"Oh," he said quietly. Then he cleared his throat and asked with a forced smile, "How are you doing?"

"School's good. Everyone's happy and healthy for the most part."

"Well, health and happiness is always a good goal to achieve." After that, our conversatioin drifted off into an awkward silence. That awkward silence continued pretty much through the rest of the afternoon until my father suggested we all go out for a family dinner.

So, all five of us found ourselves seated around a circular table towards the back of one of the best Italian restaurants in the state. All of us had gone business casual with all four of my boys in black dress pants and either a button down long sleeve or a three-quarter zip, pullover sweater. I, after a good twenty minutes of combing through my closet, managed to scrounge up a brown pencil skirt that was too small three years ago and is now verging on the button-poppingly small. I had to pair that with a pink sweater that, ironically, is a bit too big in the chest department.

We all ordered our respective meals and then looked around at each other, trying to figure out what to do next. A complete family dinner is still a new dynamic for us.

"Anybody have anything interesting to share with their old dad?" my father abruptly broke the silence.

"Sarah's lasagna has its own cult following," Tony laughed. My father pointedly smiled at from across the table. "Then why are we here at this expensive Italian restaurant if her lasagna is so delicious?"