Out by Laura Preble

Isn’t your
mother’s group a formal voting partnership within the church?” She bats her
eyes as if she hadn’t just called David out as a hands-off, Perp -loving
liberal.
    Carmen’s smart
enough to know that we’re eating in a minefield now. She fills her mouth with
rice.
    “Now Lainie , we’d be more than happy to have the Perpendicular
League involved in St. Aelred’s more formally,” David
says with just a touch too much enthusiasm. “But we’d have to resolve the dues
situation.”
    At this point,
I’d love to disappear into the floorboards, because the real shit slinging is
going to start. This has been a fight between the two of them for as long as I
remember.
    Luckily, dinner
is finished; in an effort to buzzkill political talk,
Warren says, “Let’s all go to the parlor for some brandy. We have some dessert
too, but I know there’s no way I can take another bite at the moment!”
    The war of
words is temporarily halted, and Lainie pastes a
civil smile on her face. “That would be wonderful,” she says. “Can we help you
clear?”
    “Oh, no,” Jana
jumps in. “My brother and I always do that. You all go ahead. We’ll clean up.”
    “Wow,” David
says, “this political stuff must be pretty dull if you’re willing to clear the
table to avoid it.” He hugs Jana, who grins wanly but doesn’t answer.
    “I’ll
supervise,” Warren says. He hates the political crap as much as we do. “I don’t
want you all ruining my kitchen.”
    “Carmen can
help,” Lainie offers. “I’m sure all of this is boring
for her too.” Lainie , David, and Jim amble into the
parlor, and I hear the clinking of crystal as they settle in for a good, long
veiled argument. Jesus, I’m glad they’re gone.
    Carmen
wordlessly picks up dishes and napkins, avoiding me as she goes to the kitchen.
Jana sweeps in and whispers in my ear, “That’s the girl, huh?”
    I swat her
away. “What do you mean?”
    She leans in. “That’s
the girl. That’s how you knew.”
    “Jana, I don’t
know what—”
    The look on her
face stops me. “I know, Chris. I know. Stop trying to deny it.” Her eyes blaze
fiercely, with victory, with a secret, with superiority, I don’t know what. What
is she going to do? She’s right. I can’t deny it. I’m a really bad actor.  
    “Relax. I’m not
going to turn you in or anything.” She glances into the parlor, then says, “I
want to help you.”
    “Why would you
do that?” I pick up the butter dish and nearly let it slip to the floor.
    “Because I
understand.” She puts a hand on my arm. “I understand, Chris. Get it?”
      I’ve never been any good at reading people, or
getting messages from between the lines. It’s probably why I have so few
friends. But I swear, I think she’s telling me that maybe she’s the same way.
Is that possible?
    Carmen takes
the breadbasket and salt and pepper into the kitchen, and I follow her.   She gazes out the window near the sink. “You
can see so many stars here,” she comments. “I guess because you don’t have so
much ambient light. Back home, it seems like everything is lit up 24 hours a
day.”
    “California
never closes,” Warren says as he shuts the refrigerator door with his hip. “We
were there once, Chris. Do you remember?”
    “The national
park?” I vaguely remember pine scents, massive trunks of trees, driving through
the middle of a sequoia. “I think so. I was pretty little.”
    “Chris thought
the trees were magic castles,” Jana says as she sets down plates. “He wanted to
climb one and pretend to be a knight. He carried a stick around and poked
people with it, telling them to surrender to the Star Prince.”   She pokes me in the side. “Go show her the
telescope. It’s a clear night. You might be able to see Gemini.”
    Warren waves at
us. “Go on. I’m going to hide in here as long as I can. You might as well
escape before someone decides you’d be useful in a conversation.”
    “Wow, you