Chapter 20: The Family Dinner

The deputy asked me three questions on the church steps.

What was my name, what day was it, and did I want to go anywhere with my mother.

"Joanna Brennan, Thursday, and no," I said.

He looked up the steps.

Eleven members of the choir had come down from the loft and were standing in the doorway in their robes.

"She's fine, Officer," said the oldest alto. "She's more fine than her mother."

A few of them nodded.

The deputy took off his hat and turned it once in his hands.

"Ma'am," he said to Mom, "I can't take an adult who doesn't want to go."

"She's not well."

"She answered everything right."

"You don't know her."

"No, ma'am." He put his hat back on. "But I know when I'm being used for a ride."

He left.

Mom stood on the church steps with the whole choir watching, and her chin trembled.

It was the worst thing that had ever happened to her, and it had taken eleven women and a hat.

Dad came out last.

He looked older than he had in the morning.

"Sunday," he said to me. "Dinner. Five o'clock. Your mother wants to make peace."

"Does she?"

"Come and hear her say it."

I looked at Dawn, who was holding her stomach, and she lifted one shoulder.

"Fine," I said. "I'll bring my own pen."

At five on Sunday I sat in my old chair at the dining room table.

For the first time the legal pad was in front of nobody.

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