Mr. Tan

Chapter 22: The Smoke Settles

After our shouting match was over and Earl managed to punch a hole in his living room wall, I sat on the front porch steps for what felt like an eternity. Earl was inside the house doing whatever it is that he does. I saw a flickering light from the front room window, so I assumed he was watching TV. I couldn't lie, I was still mad at him but mostly at myself for acting like a fucking idiot in there. The sun was sinking behind the trailer park, it was cold outside and I decided to take a breather on the steps without a jacket. I was just in my long sleeve black blouse and light blue denim jeans, the same thing I wore to school that day. I turned my head and looked behind me as Earl opened the front door with a black bag full of garbage, I hope. He peered down at me for a second before saying anything. Its probably a good time to mention that he didn't make me sit out here. I chose to come out here and get some fresh air after he plowed a hole through his living room wall. 

"While you out here, go put dis here bag in da trash can", he said dryly, as he tossed it down on the porch near the first step before going back inside and closing the door. 

Once he disappeared back into the trailer, I grabbed the bag and hauled it to one of the two green garbage containers that were a few feet away from the steps. I sat back on the steps to sulk while Earl sat inside and watched TV. By the time Earl reappeared back at the door, it was 30 minutes later and completely dark outside. A few people walked by and the occasional vehicle drove past. 

"You gonna come in or ain't cha?", he asked, lettin' all my heat out. 

I got up from the steps, dusted myself off and walked inside past Earl. Once inside, Earl walked past me into the kitchen. I followed him like a lost puppy. I stood in the kitchen entrance, fiddling with my fingers, not knowing how to quite say "sorry" for my outburst. Earl kept his focus on the steaks that he was turning over in the cast iron skillet. He took the lid off of a silver sauce pan on the next stove eye, peered at it for a second and placed the lid back on. Between cooking, he stopped to occasionally take swigs from his beer can on the kitchen counter. 

"While you standin' there, set the table", he said, not looking at me. Dinner's jus' 'bout ready.

I went to the cupboards and did as I was told. 5 minutes later dinner was ready and Earl set the food out on the table. Tonight's dinner was t-bone steaks, with onion gravy and mashed potatoes. 

"Go get da loaf o' white bread outta da fridge", he ordered. 

We made our plates and sat at the kitchen table. I sat there with a lump in my throat while Earl folded a slice of bread in half, taking a bite after he put a few spoonfuls of onion gravy on his steak and potatoes. 

"Earl", I said softly. I.....um....am really sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean to call you a stupid drunk.