told me. I didn’t want to make her sad. Dad made her really sad all the time. She said I was the bright light in her day. I wanted to always be that for her.
I sat down at the table with my clean hands and face. When she sat down, she sighed. “Are you okay?” I asked her.
“I’m fine, Nash. I’m just tired.”
We started eating our dinner. I could hear the quiet clicking of the big grandfather clock that was my mom’s dad’s. There was never any noise in our house. When I played video games, I wore my headset so Dad wouldn’t get mad.
“How was school?” she asked me.
I shrugged. “It was okay.”
“Did you get to eat lunch with your friend? I forgot his name.”
So did I. I forgot his name because I made him up. I didn’t want her to worry about me. She always worried. “Yep,” I lied. “Then we played together.”
“Good. I’m so happy you made a friend.”
I hated lying. She always knew. I stuffed my face in an attempt to race through dinner. The front door opened and then slammed shut. Me and Mom both stopped eating. I looked at her and waited for her to tell me what to do next. I hoped she would tell me to go to my room.
“We’re in here,” she said.
I didn’t move. I listened to his footsteps and hoped he was in a good mood. “You’re just now eating dinner?” he growled.
“I was planning a late dinner because I thought you were going to be here,” she answered.
He didn’t even look at me. I felt invisible. He walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He grabbed a beer, opened it, and went to the living room. I heard the TV come on and knew he was in there for the night.
“I’m sorry,” Mom whispered.
I didn’t know what she was sorry for. I finished my dinner and carried my plate to the sink like I was supposed to. “Can I go play now?” I asked her.
“Let’s go talk to Dad,” she said with a smile.
I didn’t want to go in the living room, but she pretty much dragged me in there. She put me almost right in front of the TV. “Nash got to eat lunch with his friend today,” Mom said.
I didn’t think he heard her. “Move out of the damn way,” he growled.
She gently nudged me to the side a few inches. “I was thinking we should invite his friend over this weekend. You could cook some burgers for the boys.”
“Take them to McDonald’s. I’ve got to work this weekend.”
“Both days?” she snapped. “You never spend time with us. Your son would like to see you.”
My dad threw up his hands. “I’m right here.”
He didn’t look at me. I sometimes wondered if he knew what I looked like. I didn’t think he ever looked at me. Mom always looked at me. She told me she looked at me every morning because she needed to know what I was wearing in case I got lost and she had to talk to the police. Dad would never be able to find me because he didn’t know what I looked like at all.
“I ran really fast in football today,” I said. I hoped he would be proud of me. I was working extra hard to get really good at football. If I was good, he might come and watch me play one day.
I waited for him to say something. He didn’t. Maybe he didn’t hear me. “I beat all of the other kids,” I told him.
“Bob!” my mother exclaimed. “Your son is talking to you!”
“Dammit!” he shouted and got to his feet. “I work my ass off all day long. Can’t I have ten minutes of peace and quiet? Do I have to listen to both of you right when I get home? I don’t give a shit if he runs or walks. I’ve got more important things to worry about!”
He hurt my feelings. “I’m going to my room,” I said and rushed out of the room. He was mean. He hated me. He wanted a different son. I was bad. I ran upstairs. Before I made it to my room, I heard a loud crash. I stopped running and was going to see if Mom was okay when I heard her yelling again.
“He needs you to pay attention to him,” she said.
“That’s what you’re here for,” he shot back. “I work and you raise the kid. You don’t