Daddy Dearest

Chapter Eleven

At the dinner table, the Davenport parents sit opposite each other, at separate heads of the table. Lottie, Noah, and I are on Mr. Davenport's right side, while Charlie and Maddie sit across us on his left. 

Noah is reading a book as always and Charlie is messing with his phone. Mr. D clears his throat, but both of his male children ignore him.

"Boys," he says in that quiet, firm tone of his. "Not at the dinner table, please." 

Noah takes his book out of sight and Charlie puts his phone away. Mr. D looks at each of them, one after the other. "Thank you." 

Mr. D's soft, commanding voice does something to me. It makes me feel squishy and gooey inside, like I suddenly don't have bones and I'm about to ooze down onto the floor in a big, messy Melody puddle. My face and neck are hot, so I know I'm probably blushing madly right now. I hide beneath my hair and try not to meet anyone's eyes. 

"Madison," Mrs. Davenport says gently. "Why don't you lead us in prayer?"

The Davenports are Catholic and so are Nancy and I. I think Mr. D was originally Anglican and had to convert for Mrs. Davenport, who is a devout Irish-Catholic. Her older brother is a Jesuit priest who lives in the Vatican. 

"Okay, mummy," Maddie replies perkily and invites us all to join hands and bow our heads. "Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," our group responds.

"That was very good, Madison," Mr. D. tells his youngest daughter. 

Maddie beams at him, two front teeth missing. "Thank you, Daddy."

I survey the table, which was nicely laid out by Mrs. D. There is pasta, Caesar salad that Charlie told me he prepared himself, garlic bread (Mrs. D apologized that it was store bought because she didn't have time to bake today due to a meeting running late), and asparagus with mushrooms. The lady is a true domestic goddess.

"This is quite a spread, Mrs. D," I say appreciatively as my stomach growls. Lottie hears it and snickers. I elbow her. "Thank you again for inviting me."

"Yeah, mum," Lottie pipes up. "If you hadn't asked her to stay, it would have been Taco Bell again."

I glare at her. It isn't always Taco Bell. Nancy isn't a very good cook, so we often get takeout for our meals, but when I'm on my own, I do have a tendency to get Taco Bell. "Shut up, spaz," I mutter.

"Oh, Melody," she says with an airy laugh. "You don't have to keep thanking me, dear. You're practically one of my children. I shouldn't even have to ask you to stay for dinner. Just eat and sleep here whenever you want."

"Hooray," says Maddie, clapping her hands. "I have a new sister! You can stay in my room, Melly." 

Across the table, Charlie who is in the middle of drinking water, sputters and dribbles all over the front of his shirt. He hurriedly dabs at it with his dinner napkin. "Oh, shit."

"Bad word!" Maddie calls out promptly.

Mr. D gives him a couple of hearty slaps on the back, his blue eyes glittering with humor. "You all right, mate?" 

"All good." Charlie coughs twice and gives me a thumbs up. "Water went down the wrong hole."

"I hate when that happens," his twin says in mock commiseration. 

"Yeah, because you know all about wrong holes," Charlie mutters darkly. 

"Charles, apologize to your sister at once," his father snaps. This time, his voice is like a whip sailing through the air and ends with a crack. "I will have none of your vulgarity at the dinner table."