I slept in until the last possible minute even though I spent half of yesterday in bed. Most of it was spent contemplating how many phone calls I’d get if I skipped out. They might all pack into the Meadowbrook and visit, but that was the last thing that I needed. I dragged my feet to the bathroom and showered, slicked down my hair enough to put any greaser to shame, and stared into my closet. 

Daniel didn’t have to say it—not that I gave him a chance—but I knew what he meant. My dad was big on celebrity gossip, and there was nothing short of conspiracies about who slept with who or was some Red. He was the type to think he’d exercised the ultimate act of patriotism by conning my brother into enlisting. That was, of course, after he swore he had the foresight to get a jump on the migration west. 

My parents knew nothing about the likes of Mathieu or anyone else. Daniel always dropped hints about my clothes, hair, or talking about work when I came home and never once stopped our father from condemning those he hated—people like me. The sunshine didn’t dry out those Midwestern Puritan sensibilities.

Nothing in my closet fit Daniel’s—or my dad’s—version of manliness, so screw it. I buttoned a white shirt and stuck my arms in a blue cardigan with floral embroidery, adding a poppy-colored bowtie to boot. I’d usually skip the layers, but they recently installed air conditioning and ran it like it was going out of style. A new outfit choice meant different hair, so I stretched out my curls. It wasn’t much, but I couldn’t completely lose myself in pleasing them. I grabbed my keys and prepared for this drive up the highway.

***

Palmdale was one of those cozy little towns you’d gladly drive right on through. Apparently, my family left the industrious agriculturally-sound farms of Iowa for the dry as hell agriculturally-sound valleys of northern Los Angeles county. My dad was determined to uproot and prove to even a bull as stubborn as him that California was where the Blake family belonged. After the Air Force base and plants cropped up, he was on Cloud 9.

I parked next to the sedan and did some sort of meditative technique before I lost it all and drove the hour back home. Today will be okay, I told myself as every step to the front door became heavier. Only one afternoon, and I tried not to jinx myself by asking how bad it could be because tempting fate never worked in my favor. 

I unlocked the door, and the empty living room saved me some time while I followed the sounds to the kitchen. My grandmother was the first person I saw sitting at the table. She quietly greeted me and kissed me on the cheek before my grandfather shook my hand—and palmed me a five.

“Still can’t tame that hair, can you, son,” Pops said. “Shame it’s not like me and your mom’s. Daniel’s waved up real nice before he cut it off, and—”

“Lonnie, leave the boy alone.” Nanny pulled out the chair beside her, and I sat down. “You look handsome, Natty.”

“Darzsa?” my mom called from the stove and came to hug me. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I just got here, Mama,” I said. “Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, you know he doesn’t come to the kitchen until the food is ready. And your brother’s somewhere around here.”

“What about me?” Daniel entered the kitchen and grinned, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “Natty, you made it early. How’s my baby brother”—he glanced at my sweater and grimaced—“doing.”

I jabbed Daniel in the side, and he pinched my arm. I couldn’t believe I had almost listened to him. He’d have to spend the day in the dumps with my dad. 

“Come on, boys, don’t roughhouse in the kitchen,” Nanny warned.

“You two still fighting?” my mom asked. She dried off the silverware and piled them on a stack of plates. “You’re too old to still go at it like this. And Danny, you know better. You can hurt Darzsa.”

I overlooked her coddling, just like I’d have to digress from much more to get through today. “Do you need help, Mama?”

“Boys will be boys, Phenie,” my grandfather commented. “Go outside and get a real match in. Maybe Daniel can teach you some of what he learned overseas, Darzsa.”

I didn’t need an excuse to hit Daniel, but he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag. They clearly had selective memory of all the times I knocked Daniel down when we were kids. 

“Go outside with your brother, Darzsa,” my mom added. 

“But—”

“Leave the women to set up.” Pops stretched and stood. “Gonna catch a little nap before dinner.”

Today will be okay. Today will be okay.

“Yea, Darzsa,” Daniel steered me toward the front door, “let’s go look at that car of yours. One of my old army buddies taught me everything I know.”

As soon as the door closed, Daniel all but shoved me off the porch. “I told you not to wear that.”

“I can wear what I want. Mind your business.”

“Well, I guess you want to get Dad started, then? You’ll know he’ll say something about—”

“About what, Daniel?” 

“Nothing, just—” Daniel bit his bottom lip. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when all eyes are on you. I’m going around back for a smoke.”  

Daniel kicked up dirt around my feet and left. I wasn’t ready to come out to him, but I’d be damned if he’d continue to taunt me like this. I sat in the rocking chair and waited to be called for dinner, my mantra losing its merit with each passing minute.