One (Sarah Crossan)

The Phone Call

I got the job this time,’ Dad says.

‘I definitely got it.’

He sets a pizza box

down on the kitchen table

along with a bag of

sodas

and for once,

as a family,

we eat together,

telling each other

about our days,

mainly listening to Dad,

hearing how the director of Foley College

in the city

‘loved’ him

and ‘practically’ offered him a teaching job on the spot.

Mom clears the plates.

Dad’s cell phone rings.

‘Yes. Yes. OK.

I understand.

Thanks.

Yes. OK. Yes.’

Dad studies his phone

then fires it across the room.

It hits the wall

and smashes,

bits of black plastic and glass

raining down on the kitchen countertops.

‘Another job will come along, son,’

Grammie says,

and Dad replies,

‘Don’t patronise me, Mom.’

It is the last thing he says

for three whole days.