Page 53 of Daydream

“She sounds amazing, Henry. They both do. Where does your mama teach? What’s she called?”

He looks at me like I just asked him for the winning lottery numbers. “Maple Hills. She’s called Maria. Do you not already know this?”

“Clearly not,” I say, rolling my eyes playfully. “What made her start teaching?”

He yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, and I swear he’s doing it because he knows how interested I am. “College was rough for her at first because her parents stopped talking to her. She says she had no queer professors that proved to her success was waiting. She wants the people who need that to be able to get it from her. Great career, wife, kid, etcetera.”

“Were you ever tempted to follow in their footsteps and go into medicine, too? Or was it always art for you?”

“Mom went to med school because both of my grandparents were doctors, and it was important to her to carry on their legacy by helping her community. Her parents had her when they were older so she’s an only child, too. Mama went to med school because she wanted a job that paid her enough to never have to ask her homophobic parents for financial support, and she wanted to help people. I never had those kinds of pressures, so I’ve always followed my passions, which are sports and art.”

“I love hearing about your family,” I admit honestly. “I could listen to you talk about yourself all day.”

He smiles but buries his head into Joy to hide it. Lifting his head, he brushes her white hair off the bridge of his nose and leans against his hand. “Did you have to wait until I’m sick before quizzing me on my life?”

“I need you incapacitated so you sit still long enough to quiz you. One last question because Gigi is going to call me any minute. Why art? I know you’re talented, but why not a sports major or something?”

Henry’s quiet while he thinks, and I say a tiny prayer that Gigi doesn’t call before I get my answer. “It’s always been a way to say the things I didn’t know how to. Especially when I was younger and I wasn’t as talkative as I am now. Don’t raise your eyebrow at me; this is my version of talkative. Art tells a story; it can change people’s minds or reaffirm their beliefs. I’ve spent my life worrying about saying the wrong thing. I can’t get art wrong.”

The video call ringtone starts to sound out of my laptop and I’ve never had the urge to throw it at a wall quite like I do now. “I lied! I have so many questions,” I say, how frantic I suddenly feel clear in my tone.

“You ran out of time, Cap,” he says, lying back on the cushions. “And I’m very sick, so I’m going to take a nap until you’re done.”

“This isn’t over,” I say, pushing my hair behind my ears and positioning my laptop on the arm of my chair.

“I look forward to round two,” he says, shutting his eyes.

I click accept, and Gigi fills my screen. “You took your time.”

“Hello to you, too,” I say back, watching her move through our house. “You’re giving me motion sickness. What’s happening?”

The framed pictures lining the staircase come into view as she descends the stairs. “Your mom wants to talk to you. Can you convince her to let me get a belly button piercing?”

“Uh, no. Is that even legal?”

Gigi sits down on the stairs, leaning into the laptop camera. “With consent from a legal guardian. Please, Halle. Ireallywant one. All my friends have them, it isn’t fair.”

“There’s no way in hell she’s going to give you permission. You should get your mom to take you when she gets home.”

Gi sighs dramatically in the calculated way she does to try to make me feel bad about not helping with her latest scheme. “I already asked her when she called, and she said no.”

This child. “And you think my mom is going to go against your mom why, exactly?”

“Because you’re so persuasive, Hallebear. If you really wanted to you would help me!” Grayson is so lucky that I never put him through this. “Please, please, please. I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be delivering me to my mom for something?”

Gigi rolls her eyes, standing from the stairs again, and even through the unsophisticated laptop speaker, I can hear how hard she’s stomping. I can hear the TV and Maisie talking to her dad as Gigi walks through the house before I’m shoved into my unsuspecting mother’s path while she appears to be in the kitchen.

“Oof,” she says. “I’ll bring it up to you when I’m done, Gi.”

I don’t even get asee you laterbefore she—I imagine—storms off. “Hi, Mom.”

Mom puts Gigi’s laptop on the kitchen table and there’s a stab of longing when I realize I’m not going to be home for a while. “Hi, honey. Can you believe that girl wants me to go against Lucia and take her to get her belly button pierced?”

“I can believe that, yeah. What’s up? I have a lot to do tonight and I haven’t looked at her homework yet.”

Mom launches into a recap of Maisie’s dance recital, which apparently is not the thing she wanted to speak to me about, before moving on to how nice it would be if Grayson was traded to a West Coast team. She keeps going and going, so much so that she doesn’t even hear Henry’s loud yawn. “Anyway, Gianna has decided shedoeswant to go to college, and she wants to go on some college tours with her friends. Can you find some time to go with her? She said she wants a college in California since that’s where her mom will be settling when she gets home. A girls’ trip sounds fun! Right?”

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