Page 67 of What We Broke

As I pour the oil into the deep fryer and turn it on to heat up, I hear Raine explain to Leo that I’ve already cut up some lettuce and tomatoes and plated some pickles to be used as garnish on the burgers. And that we have four different cheeses for him to choose from but she will only be eating the shitty processed cheese that her dad hates.

“Hey,” I reprimand. “Only I get to call it shitty.”

She shrugs, completely unbothered by me, before returning her attention to Leo. “Which cheese will you eat?”

Smirking, I turn to look at him, and he’s deep in thought, eyes darting between the processed, cheddar, swiss, and pepper-jack. Straightening his spine, he folds his arms across his chest, rearranging them a few times for emphasis, before tapping his chin with his finger as if he’s concentrating. “I think you’re right. Shitty cheese is the winner.”

She jumps up in the air in excitement and then raises her hand for him to high five. “Guess you’re on your own, Dad.”

“I guess I am,” I murmur under my breath, too busy smiling to even care.

Leo appears holding up two plates and I place burger buns and beef patties with cheese on either one.

“Here, Rain-e,” he calls out. “Put your burger together so I can put one together for your dad.”

“Who’s Rain-e?” she asks, mortified, as she takes her plate off of him. “That’s not my name.”

“But that’s how you said you spell it, isn’t it?”

She scrunches up her face in disapproval, clearly trying to come up with a logical reason as to why it’s spelled differently than the way it’s said. Struggling to make sense of it all, she snatches her plate off of him and huffs. “Fine, you can call me Rain-e. But nobody else, okay?”

I hear her warning loud and clear.

It’s another ten minutes until we’re sitting down at the table together, burgers constructed, hot homemade fries on the side. There’s nothing but contentment between the three of us as we all dig into our food. Raine is silent, enjoying her cheeseburger, and Leo and I are exchanging stupid, goofy, love-struck smiles.

“Oh no, we forgot our drinks.” Raine hops up quickly and walks to the fridge, awkwardly grabbing three cans of soda and slamming the door with her foot. She puts a can in front of each of us before sitting down.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Leo says, disgust written all over his face. “She likes Dr. Pepper too?”

* * *

Full and sated,Leo and I sit, stretched out on the couch, Raine comfortably lying on her stomach on the floor.

“Do you dance?” Leo asks her during a commercial break.

“No,” Raine replies without looking at him. I notice the slightest slump in her shoulders as she continues to look at the television but answers his question, her voice soft and unsure. “I’m not very good, and I don’t want to dance in front of people.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard a word of any of this. I wonder how long she’s been bottling it up and why she’s only bringing it up now.

I go to open my mouth and Leo places a hand on my thigh, stopping me.

“I bet you’re a better dancer than me,” he says to her.

She presses pause on the television remote and shifts her body enough to face us but not completely get herself up off the floor, her expression disbelieving.

“He really is a terrible dancer,” I tell her. “Probably the worst I’ve ever seen.”

Leo raises an eyebrow at me. “The worst you’ve ever seen? Really?”

My shoulders rise and fall. “If the shoe fits.”

“Dad, that’s so rude,” Raine chastises. “You can’t just tell someone they’re a terrible dancer.”

“Even if it’s the truth?”

“Even if it’s the truth,” she says firmly.

“But you haven’t even seen him dance yet,” I counter. “I bet I can get you to change your mind.” I nudge Leo on the shoulder. “Put a song on and dance. Show her.”

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