Going Bovine

Going Bovine Page 16

“What time?” Dad asks.

“Eight o’clock.”

“It’s only five now. You could eat dinner with us and then go.”

Jenna’s mouth falls open. “By myself? I can’t show up by myself. That’s lame. What if they’re late and I’m sitting there all alone looking like a loser, like …”

Cameron, my loser brother.

“Besides, Lisa and Tonya are picking me up at six. We’re meeting the guys for pizza first.”

“Do you need money?” Mom asks.

“Why?” I snap. “She doesn’t actually eat the food. I’m sure she’s got enough for a diet soda.”

Jenna glares at me.

“All right, settle down. Well, guess it’ll just be the three of us, then.”

“I’m not hungry,” I say.

“Would it kill you to spend a little time with your family, Cameron?”

I don’t know. Would it kill you to stop doing the nasty with your TA? Why don’t you admit that’s the real reason for this sudden family powwow? You’ve been home late every night for a month. Is Raina on vacation?

I could say this out loud, but I don’t.

“I’m really behind on my reading for Spanglish. That Don Quixote is one funny guy. Wouldn’t want to miss a minute of it.”

“You’re reading Don Quixote?” Mom asks. “Did you know Cervantes is considered the first modern novelist?”

“No. Wow. Well. I better hop to.” I disappear upstairs but I can still hear them in the kitchen arguing.

“So, do you want to go to Luigi’s?” Dad asks, sounding irritated.

“Oh, I don’t care,” Mom answers.

“We could get sushi.”

“That would be fine. I could just order a salad.”

“Mary, if you don’t want to eat sushi, just say so.”

“No, no, that’s fine. You know me. I hate to make decisions.”

I know how their evening will go. It’s like a rerun of a show you’ve seen a million times. They’ll end up going to Luigi’s, where they always go, where Dad can hold court and be the big man and Mom can have a hard time deciding what to order until Dad finally orders something for her that she’ll hate and pick at and make him mad. He’ll mutter something about how if she doesn’t like it she doesn’t have to eat it and she’ll make a big show of taking a bite and saying no, no, it’s good, she’s just not all that hungry after all. They’ll exhaust their topics of conversation—his work, her work, us kids—before the appetizers come and spend the rest of the meal in silence, looking for other people they know who could come over and rescue them from each other.

Yeah. Think I’ll be skipping this one, thanks. But apparently, Dad has other ideas. He knocks on my door as he opens it, a habit I find beyond annoying. Really, why bother knocking at all?

“Cameron, get dressed. We’re all going to Luigi’s for dinner.”

“I thought Jenna has that thing?” I sputter. “If Jenna’s not going I should be exempt.”

“This is family,” Dad says. “No one’s exempt.”

Luigi’s is billed as the place “for families and fun!” I have a hard time putting those two things together in the same sentence. Luigi is a nice enough guy—short, balding, originally from New Jersey. His wife, Peri, is a blond Amazon with a thick Texas accent. Unlike my parents, Luigi and Peri are a unit, crazy about each other, and I wonder what that’s like, why some people stay in love and others don’t.

“Hey, y’all! Welcome to Luigi’s,” Peri says, greeting us at the door with laminated menus.

“Well, hey there, Peri. When did you start working the door?” Dad teases, pouring on the charm.

Peri laughs. “I know! Can you believe Lou’s finally lettin’ me play hostess? I’ve only been askin’ fer about a year! Made me take a test and ever’thin’. Can you imagine?”

“Only so I could figure out a way to spend more time with you,” Luigi says, and kisses her cheek.

Peri beams. “Always the romantic.”

“Enjoy your dinner!” Luigi tells us.

Peri leads us past the trompe l’oeil wall made to look like a garden in Italy, and the red and white checkered tablecloths decked out with carnations and bottomless baskets of bread-sticks. I think an alarm goes off if anyone is without a starch product at any time. Peri takes us to a table right by the faux gas fireplace, which flares with this sort of weird blue-orange flame that doesn’t even pretend to look real.