Page 34 of Easy Out

“What’s wrong with my face? I thought I was handsome.”

“Nothing mijo. You are handsome but look angry. A nice girl wants a man who smiles at her.”

“I’m not angry.” At least, I didn’t think so. “I do smile.” Just not in public and around people I don’t know. Lauren makes me smile.

A knife clatters on the countertop, returning my attention to the present. “That expression. I know it. You met someone. Who is she?”

I’m about to tell her no one when the door to the garage clicks open. My dad drops his keys and thermos on the counter and then rushes to greet my mother.

He embraces her as if he’s been away at war. It’s disgusting. They’ve been together for almost twenty years, and they act like each kiss is their first. I want that someday.

I clear my throat. Dad gives me a look before he kisses my mom again. “Really?” I groan.

“Yes, really. Now stop ruining my vibe,” my dad says and straightens the glasses on his face.

“Don’t say that again.” I cringe. My dad is not cool enough to use the word vibe.

“Okay. How about…stop cockblocking me? Is that better?” I gag. Mom slaps his arm.

“Don’t say the word cock, Stephen,” she attempts to whisper. She must have forgotten that she doesn’t know how to talk quietly. My mother is a loud and colorful woman. She doesn’t have a shy or quiet bone in her body.

“Can you both stop saying that word and pass me some bleach for my brain? I need to erase the last thirty seconds of my life.”

My dad tucks my mom’s hair behind her ears and says something that makes her blush. Thank God he knows how to whisper. I don’t want to know what he said to make her look like that.

“Want a beer?” My dad asks from the open door of the fridge. I shake him off even though it’s tempting. “How’s school?” He asks, taking the seat across from me.

“Fine,” I answer quickly. He raises an eyebrow.

“He met someone. A girl,” my mother adds from the kitchen island.

“Is that so? Someone from school, I gather. Do we know her?” My dad inquires. I’m trying to think back over the last three years. Do they know Lauren? Have they met her or seen her by chance? It isn’t like I haven’t been around Lauren here and there over the years.

“I don’t think so,” I finally answer. My mom brings the salad over and places it in the middle of the table. I get up to help her with the rice and enchiladas she’s made. Damn, they smell good.

“So, there is someone?” My dad digs. Fuck. I hate it when he does this. He’s too good at his job.

“There is an assignment, and she is my partner. That’s all.” He busies himself, making a plate for my mom. He always serves her first. If there is one thing I’ve learned from Dad, it’s how to treat a woman. My mom is his queen.

“What’s the assignment?” He asks while I wait patiently for my chance to pile food onto my plate.

“It’s for Morelli.” He ‘ahs’ in understanding and then passes me the spatula. Finally. I’m starving. I should have had a power bar or something on the way over here.

“Tell me more about the girl, mijo.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Stop lying and tell me about her. She is not just anyone.” I stuff a big bite of enchiladas into my mouth to buy myself some time.

“Lauren. Her name is Lauren,” I say, looking down at my plate. “She is Sydney’s roommate.”

“So, you know each other well already? She is Sydney’s friend?” Sometimes I really wish they had more kids so I wouldn’t be the only one subjected to their interrogations.

“Her best friend. And not really. I’ve seen her around but don’t know much about her.”

“That’s the assignment, though. I remember Alessandro telling me about it the last time we had dinner together. You have to interrogate each other and write up a story with your findings,” he says between bites of cilantro rice. I nod and shovel another fork full of food into my mouth.

“This is really good, Mamá.”

---