I realize with him coming home early that I am going to have to go up to my room earlier than usual. I scan my brain for any programs I might miss. What do I usually watch on a Wednesday night? I always make sure I am in bed and my earphones plugged into my ears when he gets home late every night. They cannot be in the same nano-sphere for more than ten minutes when the fighting starts. I predict I will be deaf by the time I am forty, with the way I have to turn up the volume just to tune out their screaming and shouting.
With unexpected dread, I hear the front door open and my dad's voice announces, "I am home."
I walk through the double doors separating the lounge from the dining room and past the large triple seat couch. I walk out the door from the lounge, into the hall and am just in time to see my dad hang his scarf and coat onto the coat hanger next to the door. He bends down and puts his briefcase down next to the coat hanger. While he is in this awkward position, I take the opportunity to watch him. His dark hair is speckled with grey, and his temples are already snow white. It makes him look distinguished and more handsome. Inappropriately, I wonder why men age so handsomely and women just disintegrate?
He comes back up and notices me standing in the doorway to the lounge. He smiles widely. "Hey, Heather. How are you, stranger?"
Silently I agree with him because we are strangers. Loudly I say, "Okay, and you?"
He starts walking down the hall toward the kitchen. "Mm-mm, is that Lasagne I smell?"
I follow behind him and as he walks into the kitchen, he greets my mom by simply saying, "Cathy."
I see my mom smile at him nervously. "Evening, John."
My mom looks past him toward me apprehensively. She asks, "Heather, would you please grab the garlic bread from the micro?"
I walk to the microwave oven and click the door open. The smell of garlic assaults my senses as I take out the plate with the three rolls on it. Following them into the dining room, I place the plate with the garlic rolls next to the bowl of green salad.
My dad sits at the head of the table with his back facing the wall. He does not like to sit with his back exposed, I am sure this is some Neanderthal defence mechanism. I sit next to him to his left and my mom sits across from me.