Page 19 of No More Love Songs

“What’s your report on?” Skylar asks, and I’m certain she’s seriously interested, or she wouldn’t pose the question.

“We had to choose a topic in history that has been misconstrued over the course of time or been dropped from the history books all together.” She lights up as she talks. “We have this totally rad history teacher, Mister Shuster. He’s all about stirring the pot and teaching all the things people want banned or censored.” She pokes at the last ravioli in her dish before she goes on, “Anyway, I chose to write about what really happened to the indigenous children that were taken from their families and sent to residential schools for colonization purposes and the damage it caused.” She plops the square pasta into her mouth, chews all of two seconds before she gulps it down. “Part of the reason I never finished, is because I got totally off track while doing research. The things that were done to these families are kind of beyond what you can wrap your brain around all at once. Just total bullshit.” She shakes her head angrily, moving on to search and collect all the greens from her plate.

“Um, I let her say certain swear words since she became a teenager,” I mumble quietly to Sky, accounting for the ‘bullshit’ and whatever else my kid may drop into conversation casually. She’s usually better about reading the company before she busts out the four-letter words, but clearly is too fired up over the injustice and too frazzled by our high-profile guest to think clearly.

Sky just smiles, acknowledging she’s heard me, without ever taking her attention from my daughter who continues to rant on until her plate is empty at which point her attention shifts.

“Is there dessert?”

Sky laughs at the sudden change in her interests. “You certainly know how to keep your priorities straight.”

I roll my eyes, standing to clear everyone’s plates. “Yeah. Crimes against humanity rate right up there with sugar,” I mutter dryly. “I’m pretty sure Mavis made brownies on Friday. That work for both of you?”

“A la mode?” Ari adds.

I nod, starting for the door. “Sure.”

“With fudge and whipped cream?” Ari calls after me.

“And a few spoonfuls of that edible cookie dough you like,” I answer, about to slip out of earshot.

“That would be perfect!” Sky responds this time and it’s the last I hear before I’m inside.

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