While the outside of our modest house isn’t anything special, the inside is a completely different story. When I open the door, my eyes snag on a new photo in the entryway. Every inch of our home is an homage to the creativity of the women in my life.
Each room is painted a rich color, and the kitchen is no exception with its deep scarlet walls. Like the rest of the house,the walls are covered in framed photos, and I can barely see the surface of our black refrigerator through all of Tessa’s artwork.
Mom’s washing dishes, and they’re piling up on the rack. I grab a towel and start drying.
“Hello, Judas,” I say, glaring at my mother.
“What’s that chilly greeting for?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you replaced me withBenas your son? I saw you two laughing it up with Gracie at the game.”
“Please, Daniel. You need to stop playing around and get your head out of your ass.”
I grab another plate to dry. “Wow, Mom. Tell me how you really feel.”
“How I really feel is that you have liked your best friend asmorethan a friend since you were probably ten years old, and you’ve treated her like absolute garbage since you started dating that horrid girl.”
“You thought she washorrid? Jesus.” I run my hand down my face. She just stands there, unapologetically blinking at me in response. “Well,” I continue, “for your information, I broke up with said ‘horrid girl’ at lunch today.”
She turns off the water and stares at me. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
She wraps me up in a hug so tight I can barely breathe, and the blue dish soap on her hands soaks through my shirt. “I’ve never been prouder of you, Daniel.”
I remove her arms from my waist. “Why didn’t you tell me you hated Tori?”
“I’ve never been one to coddle, kiddo. You need to make your own choices and your own mistakes. You’ll never be able to handle future consequences if you’re not fully in control of thechoices you make for yourself. Now,shewas a particularly bad choice, but I’ve dated a few worse in my past.”
“And yet you still judge me.”
She kisses me on the head three times. “I knew you’d come around.”
“Alright, alright,” I complain. We’re both smiling now.
“Daniel! Daniel!” Tessa comes bounding into the kitchen wearing her prizedLion Kingpajamas. Her long, dark, wavy ponytail trails behind her.
I smile and crouch down. “Shouldn’t you be in bed by now, Tessie?” I fake pout. “Mom never let me stay up this late when I was nine.”
Tessie giggles. “I wanted to show you my drawing! I drew you in your football uniform.” She hands me a ripped out piece of lined notebook paper and beams. “I showed G my drawing at the game, and she said it was the most beautiful picture she’s ever seen.”
I pick Tessie up and set her on the countertop. “She did, huh? Do you think Gracie was talking about your drawing skills or how handsome I look?” I tickle her sides, and she squeals, pushing me away.
“Obviously, not you. You’re a dweeb.” She pokes me in the chest with her finger.
“Mom! Tessie called me a dweeb!” I whine loudly in an exaggerated tattle-tale tone.
“Tessa,” Mom says in a warning voice, “you know better. That’s not even a good insult.”
“Hey!” I pretend to be offended. “Stop bullying me.”
Tessie sighs like she’s exhausted from my antics. “So, what do you think of my drawing? Are you going to hang it up in your room?”
My room is covered in her art, and so is Gracie’s room. I can’t remember a time when Tessie wasn’t drawing. My momdefinitely passed down all her creativity to her. I take a look at the paper and smile so hard my eyes squint. The sketch is pretty amazing for a kid her age. She even drew all the stickers on my helmet.
