Page 41 of Dream House
As soon as I notice, Dad does too. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to play with your food?”
He says it with a smile on his face as if no one could possibly find this commentary offensive.
Pen makes a kind of guttural noise. It’s soft, but we can all still hear it. Maisy’s gaze goes from Pen to me, gaging how to respond. She’s done that since the days I carried her on my hip. Let me tell you, if that look from your child doesn’t make you want to get your shit together, there’s no hope for you.
I’m not saying my shit is together. Not by a long way. But Iwantto get it together.
It’s this knowledge that allows me to smile at Maisy.Ignore him,the smile says,you’re doing just fine.
With added vigor, Maisy jabs the doomed cremini. “Mama says playin’ is learnin’.”
And now my smile feels like a floodlight. Maybe I’m doing just fine, too. Grinning, Pen leans back in her chair with a little chin strut.
Dad shakes his head, but he must sense he’s out-matched because he turns his attention to me.
“What’s been going on around here? You four settling in?”
“Us four and then some,” Pen says before taking a sip of wine.
“What’d’you mean?” His gray eyebrows bunch in question.
I haven’t mentioned to him our decision to take in renters. It’s not a secret, but it’s also not a conversation I’ve been dying to have with him. Trust Pen to get everything out in the open.
I shoot her a look of mock thanks. “We’ve rented out three of the rooms.”
Dad’s frown of confusion turns to one of irritation.“We?Who’swe?”
I empty and fill my lungs. “I supposeIhave rented out three of the rooms then. Pen is helping me.”
“Four if you count me,” she says with added cheer.
“I do.” Again, he flashes that smile that saysIt looks like I’m joking, but I’m not really joking.
Pen smiles back, but hers says,It looks like I’m smiling, but I’m really hexing your balls.
I’m a little concerned that both of them have sharp skewers at hand, but Dad blinks first and turns to me.
“Who are your tenants?”
I shrug, mentally filing through the three renters and realizing I don’t want to tell him about any of them. Not the domestic abuse victim. Not the Black activist. And not the hot guy—I mean—the geology student.
I clear my throat. “UL students.” I spear my last bite of chicken on my fork when a noise comes from Tyler’s end of the table.
I look up to find my brother frowning at me.
“No...t… all.”
I understand him perfectly, but what I don’t understand is why he’s frowning and why his statement has come out more like a question.
“Not all,” I confirm. Tyler blinks and his frown clears as though I’ve reassured him.
“What do you mean, not all?” Dad asks.
In a way that Pen loves to callauspicious,we hear the creak of the screen door followed by the bolt knocking open.
I see the moment Nina steps inside and registers the five of us watching her enter. Even with makeup, even from this distance, her black eye is still obvious. But what I notice most are the whites of her eyes when she takes in Dad.
She bolts the door behind her and disappears up the stairs.
