How many splintered meals had we shared since Jason went away? Breakfast, lunch and dinner for a year...a thousand maybe? Would we ever all sit at this table again? I glance at Mom’s empty chair then at the space where Jason’s used to be. It was empty sometimes before he left for college. Not often, but it happened.
Once, right after Jason turned sixteen, he’d gotten into a fight with Dad over wanting to spend the summer with Uncle Mike instead of helping to replace the roof. As soon as we all sat down to dinner, Dad started talking about the material they’d need to pick up for the project. Jason swallowed a single bite before announcing that he was driving up to visit Uncle Mike after we ate.
“Can I come?” Laura asked. Jason rarely denied her anything, so she was already half out of her seat on her way to pack when hisnostopped her.
“We’ll get started on the roof as soon as you get back then,” Dad said, slicing into his steak and making a noise that had Mom blushing.
“It’s a good cut,” she said, trying to dismiss the wordless compliment.
“It’s never just the cut,” he replied, holding her gaze.
“Why can’t I come?” Laura plopped back into her chair. “Uncle Mike’ll let me, and Ducky loves driving.” She made kissy noises at the cockatiel on her shoulder before offering him a piece of broccoli to nibble.
“Leave Ducky,” Mom said, adding more broccoli to Laura’s plate and giving her an excuse-me face until Laura stopped scowling at the growing pile of vegetables. “Brooke’ll take care of him.”
“Sure,” I said, distracted by the largely untouched steak on Jason’s plate. Normally he inhaled his food. Mom noticed too and frowned at him.
“You can’t come, because I’m not just going for a few days.” I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I’m going for the whole summer.”
“No,” Dad said, without looking up from his plate. “I need you here. That roof isn’t going to survive another winter.”
Mom and Laura weren’t paying attention as they argued over whether or not Laura could bring Ducky to Uncle Mike’s, but there was something beyond his full plate that kept my attention tethered to my brother.
“Mike’s got a job lined up for me at the rig,” he said. “I’ll make more money in two months than I have the past two years at Tom McClintock’s ranch. And before you say anything, I already talked to Tom about it and told him I won’t be working for him.”
Dad resumed eating. “You’re not going off to work an oil rig at sixteen. I’ll call Mike after dinner and—”
“I’m going, and you can’t stop me.”
“Jason smash,” Ducky squawked.
Dad’s gaze slid to the bird on his youngest daughter’s shoulder before catching Mom’s eye. She gave her head a slight shake—this was the first she was hearing about this too.
Dad leaned back in his chair, giving his son his full attention. That alone should have been reason enough for Jason to backpedal. It always was in the past when he and Dad clashed over something, an occurrence that was becoming more and more frequent of late.
“I’m sorry about the roof, but there are plenty of guys you can hire to help or—” He glanced at Laura and me and cut himself off. I was skating religiously at that time, and Laura was only ten—a small ten at that.
“No,” Laura said. “You can’t go all summer. We’re supposed to go swimming every day and to the movies and stay up all night and—”
Jason looked pained. “You and Brooke can—”
“All she does is skate, and you promised!”
Skating wasn’tallI did, and my mouth was open to defend myself—because Mom, Dad and Jason had all started talking over themselves at that point—when Dad’s raised voice drowned us all out.
“I’m not hiring anybody to do a job when I have you to help me.”
“Youdon’thave me, not this summer. I’ve got my own car and my own money. This is my decision. I would have tried talking to you about it, but you wouldn’t have listened.”
“Jason, honey—” Mom started.
“You have money,” Dad said, lowering his voice so that the hairs on my arms stood on end, “because I convinced Tom to take you on at fourteen even though you could barely lift a sack of feed by yourself, and now that you can, now that you’re strong enough to help out like a man, you’re telling me you’ve decided not to be one.”
Jason lost some color in his face, but nothing else. “I’m being a man by making my own decisions.”
At that declaration Mom slowly closed her eyes and all but shook her head at the stupidity of her oldest child. At least, that’s what it seemed like to me.
“Being a man means taking care of your family and putting their needs before your own, you understand me?” Dad’s voice dropped to a normal volume, one that was infinitely more unnerving than the yelling of a moment ago. The tendons in his neck looked ready to snap. “The roof that your mom and sisters sleep under needs replacing, so you’re staying until it’s fixed.” He stabbed a piece of steak with his fork.
