P. Hoover - Solstice

“Piper doesn’t need anything from you,” my mom says.

My father inclines his head. “And what does Piper need from you? Let’s answer that question first.”

My mom’s eyes flash. “I have given Piper everything she’s needed. For eighteen years, I’ve been more than she could ever hope for.”

His eyes shift to me. “And maybe more than she wants. Too much if I could venture a guess.”

It’s like he can pick the memories of my oppressed life right from my mind. But I’m not opening my mouth to agree or disagree.

“Piper loves me.”

A smile breaks onto his face. “And Piper will love me, too.” He places one of his hands on my mom’s. “Piper can try the sauce, darling Lucia.”

And just like that my mom relents.

It’s rare I hear my mom’s real name. I never call her anything other than Mom, and we’re so seldom around people when we’re together. Lucia. It seems way old-fashioned and almost foreign. And I wonder where my parents met.

I take the bottle of sauce and dump it over the sausage and brisket, letting it spill so some dribbles into the casserole. My stomach is clenched hard again, but the sauce smells like ambrosia laced with pepper. I know I’ll love it because when it comes to sauce, hotter is better.

“Thanks.” I cut a piece of meat and put it to my lips, inhaling the fat and smoke blended together.

“You can’t buy sauce like this anywhere,” my father says. “I make it myself.”

I nod. “It’s really good.” There are at least three kinds of peppers in it. Habañero. Chipotle. And something else I can’t identify.

He leans forward onto his elbows and stares at me. “So this is the daughter who’s been hidden from me her whole life.”

Inadvertently, I lean back.

“What kind of father would you have been anyway?” my mom says. Unlike me, her posture matches his. She leans forward and fixes her eyes on him.

I look at my father. White blond hair gelled upward. Led Zeppelin T-shirt with a splotch of barbeque sauce on it. Three-meat platter in front of him. On first glance, it seems to me he’d be a lot more fun as a parent than my mom.

My father holds my mom with his gaze. “Well, for starters, I would let Piper have her own place in the world.”

Next to me, my mom shudders. “Piper’s place is with me.”

My dad stays forward, holding his pose and my mom’s attention. They battle back and forth with their eyes, and silence is their battleground. I chew slowly, thinking I shouldn’t draw attention to myself even though I am the center of attention. After an eternity, my father sits back and looks to me. “So, Piper, tell me about yourself.”

I force myself to laugh, though my muscles are rigid. I’m clenching my fork, so I set it down and think about the difference two weeks can make. If my father had asked me this question two weeks ago, I’d have given some pretty boring answers. Still, I’m not about to spill on my date with Reese and my journeys to the Underworld.

“Oh, you know,” I say.

His smile encourages me. “No. I don’t. But I’d like to.”

I grab my spoon and scoop up some green bean casserole but don’t eat it yet. “Well, I’m eighteen. I’m a senior. I have a best friend.”

“Eighteen, huh?”

I nod, eating the casserole.

He looks to my mom. “And I see you have a tattoo.”

“I got it a week ago.” I hold out my arm so he can see my left bicep.

He raises his eyebrows when he reads it. “Sacrifice.”

Again, I realize everyone knows Ancient Greek except me.

He reaches across the table to touch it. “It’s fading.”

I nod. “I think the artist may have messed up. I may have to get it reinked.” But my stomach clenches when I say it. I know the fading has nothing to do with the ink and everything to do with Chloe almost dying. I decide not to try to revive it in front of my mom and my father.

My father pulls up the sleeve on his T-shirt. “I have a tattoo, also.”

That’s putting it mildly. I lean over to get a better look. It looks like every natural disaster possible has been inked on his shoulder. There are cosmic reds and greens and bright yellows, blended together into a pattern which almost seems to shift and change in front of my eyes.

“Wow. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

He nods and rolls his sleeve back down. “Thank you, Piper.” And he winks at me.

“Did you get it in prison?” I ask because Chloe’s brother told us about all the people who get tattoos in prison.

He raises an eyebrow and looks sideways at my mom. “Prison?”

My mom remains silent.

“I thought you were in prison,” I say. “That you caused the water still explosion out west and you got caught.”

My father actually laughs. I think most people would be furious at an accusation like this, but he laughs. “And let me guess, your mother told you that.”

My mom twists up her face. “Well, what was I supposed to tell her? That you didn’t have time to raise a daughter?”

“You can tell her what you like, Lucia. I’m sure Piper will find the truth on her own.”

I know in that instant everything my mom’s told me about my dad is a lie.

Next to me, my mom slams her fork on the plate. It clatters like a bell, such that, four tables over, people turn and look. “Are we done here yet?”

“Done?” My father laughs. “I’m only getting started. So tell me, Piper, do you have a boyfriend?”

I almost drop my spoon at the question, catching it before it lands on my lap. But I do manage to get a giant drop of sauce on my leg. I wipe it off, licking my finger.

“Piper does not have a boyfriend.” My mom answers for me.

I open my mouth to protest but then stop. I have Shayne, and then there’s Reese. But neither of them are appropriate conversations to have given the present company. So instead, I nod. “Right. No boyfriend.” I glance over sideways at my mom who smiles like a fox that’s gotten away.

“Oh, come on now. A pretty girl like you? Certainly you have young men declaring their undying love for you every day.” And his blue steel eyes meet mine and hold them.

My heart begins to pound; I feel it in my temples. But I hold my face steady and force a smile to my lips. “Only in my daydreams.”

He grins, and I feel like we’ve shared some secret. A secret even I don’t know. “Well, you have your whole life ahead of you.” He grabs his beer bottle and lifts it to his mouth, drinking the remainder down in one large swallow. Even though I don’t drink beer, it’s still impressive.

“Piper has no need for boyfriends.” My mom spears a cherry tomato with her fork and puts it in her mouth whole. She chews it, and we both watch her, waiting until she’s finished. “We have each other and that’s all we’ll ever need.”

My father slaps the table, causing the plates to rattle against the silverware. “Nonsense. Piper, how would you like to come stay with me for a few months?”

My mom rockets up out of her seat. “How dare you? Piper is not going to stay with you.”

My father looks at her, commanding her to sit down with his eyes. She glares at him but settles back into the booth.

“Why not, Lucia? You and I both know Piper would benefit from some time away from you.”

I guess this means my father is aware of my mom’s desire to control me. But I have to admit, the thought of getting away, of getting to know my father a little bit better, is like new flowers planted in a garden. Like tendrils of the life I want to lead are breaking into my world, trying to lay down roots. And I plan to give them as much room as they need.

“Well, for starters, Peter, what would your wife say about that?”