Free Egg-Drop Blues by Jacqueline Turner Banks

still cares about everything Daddy does.
    I decided to go see how she was taking it. There was no doubt in my mind that she knew, either by instinct or because my father had told her already.
    What I saw when I opened the door made me laugh so hard Jury came in from where he was sitting. Our mother had brought her stationary bike down from her bedroom and she was pumping away while watching a cooking show on television. She was wearing a silver sweatsuit-type
thing I'd never seen before and there was a green avocado mask on her face.
    "Come on, it's not that funny," she said between puffs.
    When I got closer I could see her eyes were red, and I wondered if she'd been crying.
    "I decided if I moved it down here, I could use it while I'm wasting so much time watching television every night with you guys."
    "I beg your pardon; that's the quality time everybody talks about."
    She threw a towel at Jury and he seemed all right again. She climbed off her bike.
    "If either of you want to talk I'm here."
    So she knew.
    "I've got a headache; do you have anything?" Jury asked.
    That was probably the third time in my life that he's said anything about having a headache.
    "Go get my purse, Brother."
    I looked in the usual places for her purse and found it on the kitchen table. She dug around until she found a tin of tablets and gave Jury two.
    "Why don't you go lie down."
    I didn't like the sound of that; it would mean all of the Saturday chores would fall on me.
    "Do you want me to take your books back to
the library for you?" I asked Jury. Our books weren't due for another couple of weeks, but better the library than cleaning.
    Luckily, I caught Mama off guard. She actually thought it was nice of me to offer to take Jury's books back with mine.
    "Maybe I'll read up on something I can use next weekend while I'm there."
    "Okay, baby." She kissed me at the door. I felt terrible; I do have a conscience.
    The library is about six blocks from our house, so I rode my bike. I'm not part of the Saturday crowd, but I saw a few people I knew and each of them felt the need to tell me that Faye and Angela had just left. I guess that's the trouble with being part of a group; everybody expects you to always be together. I went over to the magazines and grabbed a handful of good ones, then I settled down in one of the big comfortable chairs.
    A couple of hours later when I got home, our father called to say he wasn't going to be able to take us bowling. One of my uncles was having a little get-together for some of my father's old friends to meet Lilly. He invited us, but I think he was relieved when Jury said he didn't want to party with a bunch of old people. We would have been the only kids there. When he hung up, Jury
mumbled something about his head still hurting.
    Sunday we all went to church—we go about once or twice a month. My mother told us early in the week that we were going this Sunday because we hadn't been all month. Lilly and my father were there, sitting right next to my Grandparents Jenkins, which is on the same pew that my Grandparents Reynolds, my mother's parents, sit on. Usually we sit with them or right behind them. My mother sat on the opposite side of the church. It was my first time ever sitting over there.
    My mother wore the dress she bought for her company's Christmas party. Also, she wore a little more makeup than usual. She looked really pretty. After church almost everybody told her how nice she looked. I think it started to have the opposite effect before long. I think she heard, 'You're not as young, pretty, or slim as Lilly, but you look nice, too.'
    "Let's get out of here," she whispered to us at some point. It's a really friendly church—after service they have coffee and doughnuts in the basement. It's the only part I look forward to, but I was with her about leaving. I knew it was just a matter of time before one of the grands
asked us how we felt about Daddy's announcement.
    We ended up eating big ice