The Love I Found

Chapter 3

Once inside, I wash my hands and help set the table. Mr. Scott is already sitting in his chair, watching me with narrowed eyes as I put the dishes in their place. I'm still worried that he is going to snap again.

I had only been maybe ten minutes late last Friday, and he had yelled and carried on like I was the most disgraceful person he had ever dealt with. Mrs. Scott had just stared at her dinner plate the entire time. I had taken a cue from her and stared at my lap.

The rest of that dinner had passed quietly, until the very end. In the back of my mind, I can still hear the squeal of the chair legs against the scuffed-up tile floor as Cal abruptly got to his feet and walked out of the kitchen, the second the last bite of food had disappeared from his plate.

My attention is brought back to the here and now as Mrs. Scott puts a casserole dish on the table.

Mr. Scott groans, then mumbles, "Not this crap again."

Mrs. Scott doesn't react.

I've noticed Mrs. Scott doesn't react to most things. I wonder if she has always been this way, or if perhaps it is possible for one to just learn the ability to tune out yelling and complaining. If there is a way, I hope I can learn one day. Better yet, one day soon.

Once the food is passed out, Mr. Scott gives the large clock on the kitchen wall a pointed look.

I tense, waiting for the explosion. Nothing happens, so I pick up my fork and begin to eat like everybody else already has.

I glance in Cal's direction, and he is looking right at me. He rolls his eyes and smirks, then quirks an eyebrow as if to communicate, "Can you believe this guy?"

I stifle a laugh, then try to cover it up with a cough. Of all things, Mrs. Scott decides to pick up on that.

"Are you sick?" she pipes up. I'm already shaking my head to tell her that I'm fine, but the woman continues. "I can go to the drugstore tonight and pick up some cough medicine for you. I wanted to grab a few other things anyway, and it will save me from having to go before my Book Club meeting on Friday."

I shake my head again. "Thank you, but I'm okay. Really."

"Just take some damn medicine. The last thing I need is to get sick from one of you brats," Mr. Scott demands gruffly.

I don't dare to look at Cal this time. There's no telling what his facial expression will be or how I will react to it. I don't want to annoy Mr. Scott any more than I already have.

The meal is finished without much else said, save for the occasional complaint from Mr. Scott and the random comments about the weather and the end of summer approaching from Mrs.

As soon as her plate is empty, she stands up and walks outside. I watch from my chair as she gets into her car and backs out of the driveway. I'm sure she's all too happy to have an excuse to get out of the house and away from the constant scrutiny of her husband.

Mr. Scott grumbles something about nicotine and makes a beeline for the garage.

Cal looks at me from across the table where we remain sitting. "Nice cover, but now I guess I can't go to Ricky's tonight."

I don't understand what he's getting at, and I give him a puzzled look. "Because of my cough? But I'm not actually contagious, and I don't think we have to make it a huge cover story or anything."

This time it's Cal's turn to have a puzzled expression. He stares at me for a moment, then slowly shakes his head with bewilderment. "No, you dork." His smile makes the word sound like an endearment. "Because I'm not leaving you alone with that creep."