We really don't have too much to talk about, having just seen each other this weekend at Sam's party. I updated Dad afterwards about the teens who were caught drinking. He was relieved that Sam wasn't involved, but he was still somewhat worried. Teenagers, after all. To be honest, the only bit of news left was my interview this morning.
"I still think they did you wrong. Sure, you could tell that reporter had done her homework, probably even a fan, but they didn't bring up Addie and the wedding at all. She will be furious that she was left out." Dad has always been on Addie's side even since they met, about three months after we started our long-distance dating.
"Well, she does work for the competition, even if it is a smaller marker affiliate. But I more than made up for it by having her on my second interview taped for Today."
"When were you going to mention a second interview? When will it air? I'm going to have to record it now if it's tomorrow."
"Sorry, Dad. Thad brought it to me just after I finished the first interview. I didn't even know that they would be bringing her on via satellite until the interview was half over. I was just as surprised as you two." Sam stares at me as I mention Today.
"Did you see her, the new one? They just brought her one. What's her name? I can never remember it,"
Sam stutters as he asks.
"A little flustered, aren't ya Sam," Dad responds. "Anyway, I told you that Thad was thorough. That's why Kyle recommended him to you."
Kyle has been Dad's personal manager for his art exhibits and promotions for over fifteen years. He was the one who suggested that Thad would be the best fit for me when I started this whirlwind path into publishing. While I don't doubt his success, Thad could use a little break from some of his excesses.
Before I can answer Sam's question, a small ding erupts from the kitchen.
"Oh. Lunch is ready. I got the lasagna out of the oven just before you two arrived. It should be set and cooled down enough to eat by now.
"Lasagna. What type?" I ask
"Pure vegetarian. Trust me, you haven't seen one like this before." Dad quickly stands, but with a slight wobble. Sam and I know better than to get up to help him unless it starts looking bad. He waves us off and proceeds steadily into the kitchen. Sam and I trail a few steps behind him, ready if he needs our help, but today, he doesn't.
Dad places the tray in the center of the dinette table, with Sam and I opposite each other. The plates were already placed, with a slightly smaller one in front of Dad's wheelchair in the spot between us. He always starts with a smaller portion, but he often has a second serving.
"Dig in while I get the water," Dad says as he steps back to the sink.
As the older offspring, I use flipper to scoop out a decent sized slab onto Sam's offered plate. When Dad called this "vegetarian," he wasn't kidding. There is no meat, nor noodles. Instead of pasta, it looks like Dad used eggplant and squash for the layers. Instead of meat, it looks like there's a mix of carrot, cauliflower, and broccoli. There is the traditional tomato sauce binding the veggies together, along with the usual cheeses--ricotta, mozzarella, and a touch of Parmesan. Personally, I would't put broccoli and tomatoes anywhere near each other, but that's just me.
Dad's been on an understandable health kick these last few years. Anything to stay in remission. I just wish there was actual meat in this dish. At least it isn't that faux stuff. The first time he tried a meat substitute, both Sam and I were in the bathrobe for most of the rest of the day. Even when we weren't, we were smelling up the house as the contents rumbled through our guts. Dad had it a little easier, having been eating that stuff for a few weeks before trying it us, but even he had some trumpeting going on too.
We continue to eat after Dad returned with our water. I need a few sips to get rid of the extra tang from the fresh oregano and rosemary he added. The pinch of nutmeg was a surprise as well, even if it is common. Dad was barely a third of the way through his helping when I hear a chiming from back in the living room.
"Sorry about this. I have been expecting a big call, and this is probably it. Please excuse me." At first, it looks like Dad is going to stand, but he suddenly changes his mind and uses the wheelchair instead.
We stop eating until Dad rolls back in. I have a bad feeling about this, or it could be a negative reaction to the mix of broccoli and tomato.
"Have I got great news! It looks like I will be going back to teaching this fall. You guys can't know how long I've been waiting for this."
"Wow, great Dad. Do you think it's too late to ask for a transfer? I mean, I haven't participated yet. Haven't even started classes. If I sit out this year, I should be able to play next season without having any wait period. What do you think?" Sam rambles through questions. I really have a bad feeling about this now.
"Sam, I'm not going back to the old school. I'll be an artist-in-residence at Berea, down in Kentucky. I'm selling the manor. And I'll be close to the both of you."
No comments:
Post a Comment