them as looking alike。 But now I saw that they did
look alike； though where his dad seemed kind of smug； Bryce seemed… well； right now he
seemed angry。
Then from the other side of the table； I heard； “Your sarcasm is not appreciated； Dad。”
Mrs。 Loski gave a small gasp； and everyone looked at Lyta。 “Well； it's not；” she said。
In all the years we've lived across the street from the Loskis； I've said about ten words to
Lyta； and she's said fewer back。 To me she's scary。
So it wasn't a surprise to see her glaring at her father； but it was unfortable。 Mrs。 Loski
was keeping a smile perched on her face； but she was
blinking a lot； glancing nervously around the table。 I looked from one person to the next； too；
wondering if dinner at the Loskis' was always this
……… Page 72………
tense。
Suddenly Lyta got up and dashed down the hall； but she was back in a flash with a CD in
her hand。 And when she put it in the player； I
recognized one of my brothers' songs blaring through the speakers。
We'd heard this song； “Candle Ice；” pouring out of my brothers' bedroom at least a million
times； so we were used to it。 But I looked over at my
mom； worried that she might be embarrassed by the distorting guitars and the gritty lyrics。
This was definitely not caviar music。
She seemed a little uncertain； but in a happy way。 She was sharing secret smiles with my
father； and honestly； I think she even giggled。 My dad
was looking amused； although he was very reserved about it； and it took me until the end of
the song to realize that he was proud。 Proud that this
noise came from his boys。
That surprised me。 Dad has never been real big on any rendition of my brothers' band；
although he's never really criticized it either。 But then Mr。
Loski started grilling Matt and Mike about how they'd afforded to record their own music； and
they explained about working and saving and
shopping for good deals on equipment； and that's when I realized why my father was proud。
My brothers were feeling pretty good； too； you could tell。 And it was no wonder； with the way
Lyta was carrying on about how great “Candle
Ice” was。 She was positively gushing； which seemed very odd； ing from Lyta。
As I looked around； it struck me that we were having dinner with a group of strangers。 We'd
lived across the street for years； but I didn't know
these people at all。 Lyta did know how to smile。 Mr。 Loski was clean and smooth on the
outside； but there was a distinct whiff of something rotten
buried just beneath the surface。 And the ever…efficient Mrs。 Loski seemed flustered； almost
hyper。 Was it having us over that was making her
nervous？
Then there was Bryce—the most disturbing of all because I had to admit that I didn't really
know him； either。 And based on what I'd discovered
lately； I didn't care to know any more。 Looking across the table at him； all I got was a strange；
detached； neutral feeling。 No fireworks； no leftover
anger or resurging flutters。
Nothing。
After we'd had dessert and it was time to go； I went up to Bryce and told him I was sorry for
having been so fierce when we'd first e in。 “I
should've let you apologize； and really； it was very nice of your family to have us over。 I know
it was a lot of work and； well； I think my mom had a
really good time and that's what matters to me。” We were looking right at each other； but it
was almost as though he didn't hear me。 “Bryce？ I said
I'm sorry。”
He nodded； and then our families were waving good…bye and saying good night。
I walked behind my mother； who was holding hands with my father； and beside my brothers；
who were carrying home what was left of our pies。
We all wound up in the kitchen； and Matt poured himself a glass of milk and said to Mike；
“That Mr。 Loski was sniffing us out pretty good tonight；
wasn't he？”
“No kidding。 Maybe he thinks we're hot for his daughter。”
“Not me； dude！ You？”
Mike got himself a glass of milk； too。 “That's Skyler's gig。 No way I'd go there。” He grinned。
“But she was really cool tonight。 Did she e down
on papa bear or what？”
My dad took a paper plate out of the cupboard and cut a slice of pie。 “You boys showed a lot
of restraint tonight。 I don't know if I could've kept my
cool that way。”
……… Page 73………
“Aw； he's just； you know… entrenched；” Matt said。 “Gotta adjust to the perspective and deal
from there。” Then he added； “Not that I'd want him as
my dad…。”
Mike practically sprayed his milk。 “Dude！ Can you imagine？” Then Matt gave my dad a slap
on the back and said； “No way。 I'm sticking with my
main man here。” My mom grinned from across the kitchen and said； “Me too。”
I'd never seen my father cry。 And he didn't exactly sit there bawling； but there were definitely
tears welling up in his eyes。 He blinked them back
the best he could and said； “Don't you boys want some pie to go with that milk？”
“Dude；” said Matt as he straddled a chair。 “I was just thinking that。”
“Yeah；” Mike added。 “I'm starved。”
“Get me a plate； too！” I called as Mike dug through the cupboard。
“But we just ate；” my mother cried。
“e on； Trina； have some pie。 It's delicious。”
I went to bed that night feeling very full and very happy。 And as I lay there in the dark； I
wondered at how much emotion can go into any given day；
and thought how nice it was to feel this way at the end of it。
And as I nestled in and drifted off to sleep； my heart felt wonderfully… free。
The next morning I still felt good。 I went outside and sprinkled the yard； enjoying the splish
and patter of water on soil； wondering when； when； that
first little blade of grass would spring up into the sunshine。
Then I went out back； cleaned the coop； raked the yard； and dug up some of the bigger
weeds growing along the edges。
Mrs。 Stueby leaned over the side fence as I was shoveling my rakings and weeds into a
trash can and said； “How's it going； Julianna？ Making
neat for a rooster？”
“A rooster？”
“Why； certainly。 Those hens need some motivation to start laying more！”
It was true。 Bonnie and Clydette and the others were only laying about half the eggs that they
used to； but a rooster？ “I don't think the
neighborhood would appreciate my getting a rooster； Mrs。 Stueby。 Besides； we'd get chicks
and I don't think we can handle any more poultry back
here。”
“Nonsense。 You've spoiled these birds； giving them the whole yard。 They can share the
space。 Easily！ How else are you going to maintain your
business？ Soon those birds won't be laying anything a…tall！”
“They won't？”
“Well； very little。”
I shook my head； then said； “They were just my chicks that grew into chickens and started
laying eggs。 I never really thought of it as a business。”
“Well； my runnin' a tab has probably contributed to that；