by Trixie More
“What?” Derrick couldn’t believe it. They’d both put in for early decision, meaning both of them had agreed not to apply to any other school until the decision came through.
Ben shrugged and turned toward the house. Together their footsteps thudded on the wooden porch, Ben pulled the door open, and Derrick followed him in.
“So what are you going to do?” Derrick figured if they both found a local college and did their first year near home, they could transfer to VT the following fall. That wouldn’t be so horrible.
“I’m not going to do anything,” Ben said. “I’m going to join the union.”
Ben’s older brother George was on the worn plaid couch, watching a detective show. He looked up and grinned at them. “Ben’s about to become a mini version of Dad.”
Outside they heard the sound of the elder George Connelly drive up. The heavy metal thunk of the door closing came next. Outside, he’d be reaching over into the bed of the truck, hauling his beat-up canvas tool bag out of the bed. Derrick had seen him do it dozens of times. An ironworker? Ben was going to become an ironworker? On the porch, Ben’s father stopped and took off the flat soled boots most guys on the job wore, boots that gave them one less way to trip as they walked the red steel beams dozens of stories above the concrete and asphalt of Manhattan. The screen door opened, the latch clicked, and Ben’s father stood there, smiling at his family, taking up the whole damn doorway.
Ben walked over and took his father’s tool bag, carrying it out to the small storage area behind the kitchen.
“Derrick.” George walked in and gave Derrick a punch in the arm. “Good to see you, son.” He pulled his oldest boy’s baseball cap down over his eyes and his son gave a cry of annoyance. The elder Connelly headed up the stairs to shower. From experience, Derrick knew the family would be sitting down to eat as soon as the man came down from washing up.
“You staying, Derry?” Ben’s mother leaned her head around the kitchen doorway. The house was small, just a living room, a kitchen and a den on the first floor, three bedrooms and a bath upstairs. “It’s pot roast.” The whole house smelled of beef, onions, and gravy.
“No thanks, Mrs. Connelly,” he said. “I gotta go. My dad’s birthday is tonight.”
“Ben tell you the news?” She was looking at him warmly and patting her younger son’s arm as he squeezed past her. Ben’s eyes were daring him to start something.
“Yeah, Ma, I told him. I’m going to take the union exam this spring so’s I can start right after school lets out.” And just like that, his best friend looked like a man, standing there on the worn carpet, his eyes steady, older.
“We’re so proud of him,” his mother said, and Derrick knew, she was speaking the truth.
Thirty minutes later, Derrick pulled his Toyota Tacoma into the driveway of his own home. The house had a massive wrap around porch and a detached three-car garage. The garage door swung up with the push of a button, and he drove the silver truck inside. The muscular Toyota looked out of place, substantial and rugged, amid the rest of the family’s German cars. Kinda the way Derrick felt sometimes when he was around the people who drove those cars. Derrick was big, and while his immediate family was wealthy and dressed like it, he preferred jeans and T-shirts, work boots and trucks. Derrick’s sheer size got him enough attention; he didn’t need to stand out further.
Leaving the garage, not bothering with his coat or his books, he walked across the snow-covered lawn, his boot’s sloughing off the snow and wet. He was the only one in the family who wore work boots. The only one who drove a truck. But, if his grades today were any indication, he was about to show his neurosurgeon father and his Harvard freshman brother that, this time, he was king of the intellectual mountain around here. Spencer Moss was hard on all his children, but hardest on Derrick. Derrick knew it was because his father wanted him to do well and, Derrick assumed, based on what his father said, he needed to work harder than his siblings. Graduating with a higher ranking than David’s would be irrefutable proof that his hard work had paid off, but somehow having the goal in hand wasn’t as sweet as he’d expected it would be.
Derrick was kicked back in the living room, with his cell phone, reading about a new circuit board while Tessa, their cook, worked. His mom was in the city picking up his grandparents. Even if it hadn’t been his father’s birthday, the family would have all waited to eat until Spenser came home, a ritual that drove Ashley crazy.
Are you coming over tonight? His girlfriend, Ashley texted.
My dad’s birthday, he replied. Spencer Moss, the famous neurosurgeon, would be fifty-one today. Last year, the party had been epic, a big affair at their country club that had lasted all night.
OK. See you tomorrow. Ashley stopped texting. That was OK with Derrick, in fact, it was one of the things he liked about her; she didn’t go on and on about stupid stuff. Besides, they’d be together tomorrow at the robotics meeting after school.
One more text, this one from his little sister, a smiley face. He sent a smiley back to her and tossed the phone onto the table. He was about to play a video game when he heard first one car, then another, pull into the drive, the arrivals followed by a stream of people. His Grandpa Angelo and Grandma Rose, his mother, Marie, and his little sister, Sophia, all piled in first. His father, who must have been in the second car, came next with his brother, David in tow. Sophia shrieked.
“Davey!” She hustled over and gave David a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming home! You just went back to school!”
“I took the train from Boston and Dad picked me up.” David took off his coat and flung it onto the couch.
“You hang that up,” called Tessa from the kitchen but David disregarded her command and continued on into the dining room with his father. Derrick shut off the TV and hung up his brother’s coat.
“Thank you, D boy,” said Tessa. She’d always favored him over David, and she often told him he was the only D in the house that mattered. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.
“No worries. And don’t call me boy,” he said as he passed through the kitchen and stole a meatball.
Tessa just laughed.
“And what is my handsome grandson doing today?” Grandma Rose came up and gave him a hug. He had to bend over to hug her, she was so short, and he was so tall, taller really than his father or his brother.
“I’m acing my science classes. One by one; they’re going down,” Derrick said with a smile.
“Wonderful! And your girl? The fussy little one? How is she?”
Derrick rolled his eyes. “Grandma, you are as subtle as a train wreck. Ashley is fine, and I like her just fine, just the way she is.”
Grandma Rose made a face and hustled into the kitchen where, as sure as the sun would come up tomorrow, she would start irritating the devil out of Tessa by helping her.
Grandpa Angelo was pouring himself a glass of wine at the tiny butler area. “You want one, Derry?” he asked in his thick New York accent.
“Nah, Poppie. I’m good.”
They both retreated to the dining room, joining the rest, except for Grandma Rose who wouldn’t sit at the table until she was sure all the food was laid out correctly.
In the dining room, the silverware and water glasses sparkled beneath the chandelier, places laid out as they always were, around the long table. Derrick started to walk around to the far side of the table, to take his usual seat next to David. His father always sat at one end, his mother at the other, like they were some kind of royalty. David sat to his father’s right side, Sophia at his left. Derrick hesitated, watching his father and brother, deep in conversation. If he took his regular seat, he’d have to listen to them discuss medicine all night. Derrick eschewed the chair they expected him to choose and pulled his place setting over by his mother, on the same side as Sophia.
“How was school today?” his mom asked as she watched him rearrange the table.
“I’ve left a stack of research papers in your room
.” From the other end of the table, Derrick heard his father’s voice, speaking to David and he felt the small pinch of jealousy in his chest.
How could he leave a stack of papers for me? I’m not studying to be a doctor, Derrick reminded himself. Their father loved them all. He turned to his mom. “School was great, Mom,” he said. He didn’t seem to have as much to gloat about as he’d thought. A good grade, a project coming up. All kid’s stuff. “How was the traffic coming back from the city?”
“Oh, it was an easy trip.” His mom smiled at him. “Are you hungry? Tessa’s outdone herself tonight; everything smells divine.”
“Sure, Mom.”
At the other end of the table, David was saying something to their father, his face showing genuine excitement while Spencer beamed at his oldest son. Sophia got up to get a soda, and when she came back, Spencer held out his hand to his daughter. “Sophia, you are beautiful tonight.” He turned to the table at large. Angelo and Rose had just seated themselves across the table from each other, Angelo between Derrick and Sophia’s empty seat. The glance that passed between his grandparents made Derrick feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, for his father. “Isn’t my daughter the most beautiful creature?” He smiled broadly while Sophia looked unhappily at the dishes on the table. Derrick’s mother cleared her throat.
“Spencer, you’re embarrassing her,” she said, although that’s what she said every time and their father never gave it a rest.
Grandpa Angelo turned his head away from the spectacle beside him and whispered to Derrick, “The man is your father, but he’s an ass. Just sayin’.”
The statement caught Derrick by surprise, his agile mind grabbing this new information and reshuffling his thoughts. His father was a renowned doctor, saving lives and providing very well for his family. Angelo thought Spencer was an idiot? Glancing down the table, where Sophia was twisting her fingers free of Spencer’s grip, Derrick felt his thoughts colliding, the old and the new.
Derrick’s face must have echoed the shock he felt because his grandfather looked back at him with a shrug. “Wha? I thought you’se old enough to hear it by now. Thought you’d figured it out for yourself.” Derrick’s attention jerked back to his grandfather. The old man just reached across the table and grabbed the Cabernet, topping off his wine glass. Across from him, Rose leaned forward and hissed “Ang, what are you sayin’ over there? Just keep your thoughts to yourself.” Angelo shrugged again but fell obediently silent.
Derrick looked over his grandfather’s shoulder and saw Sophia sitting down now, her face a mask of unhappiness, her cheeks crimson. His father had already turned his attention back to David.
“Well. I have some good news,” Derrick said rather loudly. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tessa stop in her tracks in the hallway. His father stopped speaking and turned slowly to Derrick.
“Derrick, I almost forgot you were there. You’re not in your usual seat.” His father smiled at him. “What’s the good news?” Besides his father, David’s grin was open and curious. Derrick looked at his father and his brother and saw a difference in their gazes that he’d never noticed, felt how easy it would be to brag about his day if his father weren’t at the table, how easy it would be to tell only David. Beneath his chair, his feet felt large and unwieldy in his work boots. Derrick rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat. Why was it so much harder to speak when his father was around? For the first time, it occurred to him, the fault might not be all his.
“I, um, I aced my computer science midterm. I just got the grade back today.” His father stared at him. “I, uh, was pretty stoked about it,” Derrick finished, feeling lame.
Beside him, his grandfather leaned back in his chair, his arms folded against his chest.
“Derrick, that’s wonderful,” his mother said from behind him. Sophia, too, turned to him and smiled. The redness was leaving her face, and if that’s all that came from his dumb-ass comment, then Derrick was glad at least for that. He could handle feeling foolish much easier than she could. He pulled his phone out, keeping it below the table and texted his sister a silly wink. Her slender fingers lay flat over her own phone. She slipped her hand off the table and seconds later his phone vibrated. She replied back with a tongue out emoji.
His father seemed to figure out that nothing more was coming from Derrick. “Terrific. When I was a senior in high school, I can remember one particular exam I wanted to do well on. My teacher was a real piece of work, everything he told us on Monday, was no longer valid, on Tuesday. Made no sense whatsoever. I had to get a high mark, I mean, I was determined to get into med school.” His father’s voice rambled on; Derrick had heard the story before. This time, he was distracted by a sharp pain on the front of his shin. He started to push back from the table, but his grandfather grabbed him by the forearm and held him in place. Derrick followed his grandfather’s gaze to find his grandmother mouthing the word “sorry” at him.
“That was meant for me,” Angelo explained quietly. “Just sit there and don’t speak or move, that’s pretty much what she meant by that.”
At the end of the table, his father wrapped up his lecture.
Derrick looked between his grandfather and his father. He thought of Ben standing in the living room of the Connelly’s house, looking all grown up. He cleared his throat.
“There’s something else,” he said. His father narrowed his eyes at him. What else could Derrick possibly have to say? What could his too big, too dumb, son possibly bring to the table? Derrick put his napkin beside his plate. Something was changing, but he didn’t know what it was; he hardly expected the words that he said next. “I’m joining the ironworker’s union.”
Stunned silence rolled through the room, as unsettling as thunder, as sudden as lightning.
“Derry!” His grandmother spoke for all of them, he was sure. Suddenly, his body felt the right size, his boots felt perfectly suited to this table or anywhere. He smiled, pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m going to help Tessa bring in the cake.”
The meal finished without further drama, which surprised Derrick. The only person who tried to talk him into changing his mind was Tessa, who hissed at him in the kitchen, asking him what the hell he was doing. Derrick knew his mom would wait until they were in private; he had no idea what his father thought. Angelo just watched him, his face as inscrutable as a leopard’s.
The cake was brought out, the candles lit, and birthday wishes were given. After the table was cleared and their grandparents were settled in the TV room, Derrick offered to bring their overnight bags up to the guest room.
As he was walking past his father’s study, carrying the two ancient bags, the mention of his name caught his attention. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but he stopped in the hallway, waiting to see if more would be said.
“Derry’s robots are amazing, Dad,” his brother was saying. “He’s pretty much the leader of that robotics club. If he doesn’t go somewhere and build on that skill, he’s going to miss his calling. Before you let him do this, you should at least go to the next robotics competition.”
The bags felt a little lighter in his hands, and Derrick couldn’t suppress a smile. It would kill David to know Derrick had heard this. Derrick’s grin widened. He still wanted to go walk the beams like George Connelly, but David’s validation felt good. He started to move again.
“You know I have no interest in watching him play with toys like an overgrown child. He’s too old to be interested in those games, fumbling around, trying to push a ball into a goal. The whole thing is mind-numbing.” Derrick stopped in his tracks. He knew his father hadn’t made it to any of the competitions, but he’d always assumed it was because of his work. “Bad enough I have to trip over them here at home.”
Humiliation washed over Derrick.
“Dad,” Sophia admonished. “That’s no reason not to go see it.” Christ, who else was in that room? Was the whole family sitting around discussing how lame his interests were? “It’s cool to watch,
but even if it weren’t, Dad, we go because we love Derry. We go to support him. If you go, maybe he’ll change his mind about Virginia Tech.”
“If that’s true, he’s even weaker than I thought he was.” Spencer’s voice held a note of ridicule. “I go to work every day and save lives, David here is going to do the same. If all Derrick’s going to learn at school is how to build more tinker toys, then maybe he has the right idea. Save everyone a lot of bother.”
In the hallway, eavesdropping on his own family, Derrick felt the heat of shame on his face. His hands fisted around the handles of the baggage he carried.
“Dad!” Sophia’s voice again.
“You think he needs me there to cheer him on or he won’t be able to compete?” His father’s voice sent scalding embarrassment through him.
“I didn’t mean that, and you know I didn’t. Derry will do just fine whether you’re there or not.”
“See?” His father’s voice held a bit of triumph to it now. “I don’t need to go.”
Inside the room, something thumped. “Dad.” David sounded too tired to say more than the one word.
In the hallway behind him, Derrick heard a low exhale. Could this get any worse? His father had just trashed him to his siblings, and now, there was someone else who had heard. Worse yet, they’d caught him eavesdropping. He turned enough to see behind him. There was only one balding Italian with a hook nose in the house. His grandfather’s brown eyes were narrowed, his ordinarily olive complexion appeared pale, and the old man was standing with both feet spread wide, arms held slightly out from his sides, not loose, but sort of like he might go for a gun, or throw down a wrestling move. He looked … ready. Derrick took a step back. The blood had left his grandfather’s face, leaving the man bleached in anger as he scowled at the library door. At that moment, Derrick loved the old man so much it hurt.
Chapter 1
