Page 82 of A Scoring Chance

“Auntie is right. We invited you, Lissy Loo Loo. Check your text messages.” I shake my head before leaning down to plant a kiss on Auntie’s upturned cheek before strolling through the entryway, back into the dining room, and taking my seat.

“I made you a plate, Auntie Li.” Darius beams as he places the foiled-covered plate in her hands. The answering beaming smile she gives him says it all. That boy is the only one not on her list right now. This isn’t the first or the last time I’ll be on Alise’s shit list, but it would’ve been nice to enjoy the rest of my breakfast in peace.

“Suck-up,” Ramona and I say in unison, a soft smile spreading across her face.

“It’s not sucking up if it’s the truth. You should remember that, Uncle Coop.” Darius plops down in the seat next to me, only wincing slightly. Momma must notice because she chides him to go take more painkillers, which he does immediately.

“So, it’s Uncle Coop now, is it? Did something happen last night you’d like to share with the class?” Alise steals his seat, turning toward the two of us. Her red Beats headphones cover her ears. Today must be a bad day. Probably being made worse by everyone being crowded in the room and speaking all at the same time.

“Nope. Not a thing.” Ramona keeps her eyes focused on her plate, not noticing Alise’s headphones.

“Do you want to go to the other room for a few minutes?” I run my hand down Alise’s back to get her attention, and she jumps away from me, wincing as if she’s in pain. “I’m sorry.”

I should know better than to touch her when she has headphones on. It usually signals that things have progressedto an extreme level. Alise’s SPD is all-encompassing. Sound, textures, almost anything can make it harder for her on any given day. She had a lot of therapy when she was younger, learning the right ways to cope when things become overwhelming, but it doesn’t always work.

We’ve all learned to not bring too much attention to it, not wanting to embarrass her or bring more attention to what’s going on. The hard part is watching her struggle and being powerless to help her. The only thing we can do is suggest we move to a quieter place and hope things start calming down from there.

“Hey, you’re in my seat,” Darius says to Alise, striding toward her but stopping in his tracks. “Today is a bad day, huh?”

I nod my head, tapping Beauty on the arms to get her attention. She scowls at me for a moment before noticing Alise’s predicament and pushes back from the table. “We don’t have enough seats for everyone. We’re going to go to the kids’ table and finish eating.”

Beauty grabs our plates and motions with her head toward the kitchen. Darius nods in agreement before tapping Alise lightly on the shoulder and motioning with his hand for her to follow him.

“Good idea, baby. Can you put on another pot of coffee when you walk by? I’m sure Peggy would love a cup.”

“Sure thing, Ma. Does anyone want anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Momma and Ms. King respond as I help Auntie Peggy have a seat before following everyone into the kitchen.

It takes me a moment, but I spot everyone seated around a small circular table in the breakfast nook, the perfect amount of space for our small party. “Kids’ table?”

“It’s just a fancy name for the kitchen table.” Beauty giggles as I take the seat beside her.

“No, it’s not. It’s where we are banished every holiday so the ‘grown folks’ can talk in peace without us hearing them.” Darius places Alise’s plate in front of her, free of the aluminum foil. The last thing she needs is to have to deal with strange textures on top of everything else going on.

“But you two aren’t—” I begin, but Ramona promptly cuts me off.

“Don’t try to make sense of it. You’ll give yourself a headache.”

Alise lowers her headphones slightly, her eyes drifting close. We all remain silent as she shakes her head, sliding them back over her ears.

“We will be children until we have our own homes with our own tables and can decide on the seating arrangements. Until then, we’re sitting at the kids' table.” Alise grabs a piece of French toast with her fork and shoves it into her mouth. “This is soo good. I need you to have Ollie come cook for us more often.”

Ramona freezes, the forkful of French toast only inches from her mouth. “How do you know Ollie was here?”

“Beau. He called me, pissed he drove all the way here to turn around and head right back to Portland because someone wanted to have the house all to themselves last night.”

I reach up, rubbing the back of my neck and checking for her reaction out of the corner of my eye. “That’s not what I said to him.”

Alise rolls her eyes at me before answering. “I wasn’t even there, and I know at the very least it was implied.”

“Fair enough, but can we not talk about this right now?”

“Talk about what? The fact you slept over at Cooper's house last night? I may only be eleven, almost twelve, but I'm not stupid,” Darius chimes in, his chin resting on the palm of his hand like he’s watching his favorite show on television.

The three of us look at each other for a few moments before bursting into a fit of laughter. It takes a few minutes for me to regain my composure. “We never said you were stupid, Big D. There are just some things we don’t discuss over breakfast.”

Darius nods his head in agreement. This probably isn’t the first time he’s heard a statement like that in this house, especially if Alise spends any significant amount of time here. I love her to death, but that woman has not mastered how to engage her brain-to-mouth filter successfully.

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