him so。 But then my granddad pulled me aside and
we both retreated to our own little corners of the house。
Pacing around my room; I had the urge to go talk to Lyta。 To tell her that she was right;
that Dad was way out of line。 But I could hear her
through the walls; crying and screaming while my mom tried to calm her down。 Then she
stormed out of the house to who…knows…where; and my
mom took up with my dad again。
So I stayed put。 And even though the earth quit quaking around eleven oclock; there were
tremors out there。 I could feel them。
As I lay in my bed staring out the window at the sky; I thought about how my dad had always
looked down on the Bakers。 How hed put down their
house and their yard and their cars and what they did for a living。 How hed called them trash
and made fun of Mr。 Bakers paintings。
And now I was seeing that there was something really cool about that family。 All of them。
They were just…real。
And who were we? There was something spinning wickedly out of control inside this house。
It was like seeing inside the Bakers world had
opened up windows into our own; and the view was not a pretty one。
Where had all this stuff e from?
And why hadnt I ever seen it before。
The Dinner
By the time I got home; I knew it would be selfish of me to boycott the Loskis dinner party。
My mother had already spent a lot of time humming over
pie recipes and going through her closet for “something suitable to wear。” Shed even bought
a new shirt for Dad and had scrutinized what the boys
intended to wear。 Obviously she was looking forward to the dinner— not that I really
understood that; but I didnt want to ruin everything by telling her
about my newfound hatred of Bryce。
And Dad felt bad enough about David already。 The last thing he needed was to hear about
crackpot ments made by immature eighth
graders。
So that night I went through the motions of baking pies with my mother and convinced myself
that I was doing the right thing。 One dinner couldnt
change anyones life。 I just had to get through it。