“I am just clumsy,” I said, using the word my father had used on the deck. “You know how I am.”
“I know what your father says,” Susan said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked toward the hallway. “That is not the same thing.”
“We should get some ice for that back,” Caroline said, rising from her chair with a quick, decisive movement. “Before dinner starts.”
“No, please,” I said, flinching slightly as she reached toward my shoulder to help me up. “I just want to sit here for a minute.”
Caroline stopped, her hand hovering in the air, before she slowly let it fall back to her side.
“Alright,” Caroline said. “But we are going to talk about this later.”
At eight o’clock, we sat around the long oak dining table under the dim yellow light of the iron chandelier.
Jennifer served the chicken, her linen skirt rustling every time she shifted in her seat to pass the white serving bowls.
“Tyler had a call from the athletic director today,” Robert said, his deep voice filling the room and shutting down the quiet conversation between my aunts. “They are looking at him for the varsity captaincy next semester.”
