Chapter 2: Dance with Anger

When Coach Taylor returned from his evening coaching session with Jason, Julie and Tami were already in their rooms, and light was streaming beneath both doors. He stopped by Julie's and knocked before entering. His daughter was sitting up in bed reading something called The Chosen. "What's the book about?" he asked.

"Boys," she said, without looking up from the page.

"Boys?" He leaned against the door frame. "So, what, it's some kind of romance?"

She snorted. "No. It's about fathers and sons and Judaism and politics and coming of age. I have to read it for English."

"So how was your second day of school? You like the junior high?"

They'd moved to Midland the summer before her 6th grade year, so she hadn't had long to make friends before heading off to junior high. He knew it wasn't easy on her, but a year ago he'd been offered his current coaching position, which meant he could work directly with Jason as QB coach of the Tigers. The Taylors had been living in Lamesa before that, but Coach Taylor had commuted two hours round trip to Midland three times a week so he could continue to coach Jason privately.

"Yeah. I guess," Julie answered.

"Did you learn anything new and interesting?"

"Not much."

"Well what did you learn?" he asked.

"Stuff."

Her eyes had not moved from the book. Eric remembered a time when Julie couldn't get enough of his attention. When she would ask him questions, and he would be the one to get tired of answering. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten tired. "Thought I'd take you to a movie Saturday. Have us a little daddy daughter date. That new DreamWorks movie is still at the second run."

"DreamWorks? Dad, I'm twelve. Not two. Besides, I'm going to see The Brothers Grimm with Kim."

"Kim? Is she the one with the blonde, talky mother?"

"Yeah. We're going on Saturday morning. To a matinee."

"What's that movie rated?"

"Mom already said yes."

"But what's it rated?"

"Mom already said yes," Julie repeated.

"I didn't ask what mom said. I asked what it's rated."

"PG-13. Kim's mom's taking us and Kim's already 13."

"You're not."

"Mom already said yes."

He sighed. "A'ight then. I guess you and I'll just go to dinner instead. Feel like Chili's this weekend?"

"Sure. Can I invite my friend Marcus to come with us?" she asked.

"Who?"

"Marcus. We're partners. For our science project. We're going to work on it Saturday."

"Marcus, huh? Marcus."

"Yeah, that's his name. Don't wear it out."

"Why do you have a science project already?" he asked. "It's only the second day of school!"

Julie shrugged. "You and mom were the ones who wanted me to be on the advanced track, remember?"

More like just Mom, he thought, but he didn't say it. He wanted – and expected – Julie to do well in school. He wanted – and expected – her to go to college, but he hadn't agreed with Tami that she needed to take the advanced classes in every single subject. Privately, he'd said, "It's her first year out of elementary school. Let her ease in. Besides, it's not like we're paying for her to go to an Ivy league." And Tami had said Julie would get bored, and get in trouble, if she didn't challenge herself. And then it had finally occurred to both of them to ask what Julie herself wanted. Julie had wanted to take advanced English and history for certain. But she'd been on the fence about math and science. So Tami had pushed her off the fence.

"It's not due for three weeks, but Marcus and I want to get started. So, can he come with us to dinner?"

"No. You and I need to spend some quality father daughter time together."

"But he'll be over here until seven – "

"- Then you and I can go out for dinner at 7:30."

Julie sighed.

"Don't you want to spend time with your father?'

She glanced up at him. She looked sympathetic. He didn't like the look. He liked it better than her annoyed look, or her condescending look, or her irritated look, or her bored look, but he still didn't like it. "Sure, Dad. It'll be fun." She looked back down at her book.

He put his hand on the door knob. "G'night, Monkey Noodle."

"Nite." As he was closing the door, he heard her say, "Please don't call me Monkey Noodle in front of Marcus."

/FNL/

When Eric came into their bedroom, Tami was reading a book called The Dance of Anger. He tried to make out the subtitle between her fingers: A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships. This did not bode well.

He took off his Tigers cap and began unbuttoning his burnt orange jacket. "Did you tell Julie she could go to a PG-13 movie?"

"I looked into it." Like her daughter, Tami did not look up from her book. What did a man have to do to get some attention around here? "It seems okay. There's a lot of violence, but then she goes to your football games all the time."

"Football is not violent." He hung up his jacket in the narrow, very full closet. "What about sex?"

"That's all you worry about. You don't care how many heads are rolling on the ground."

"Well, the violence is fake. But you can't fake nudity."

"Brief suggestive material. That's it. Besides, it stars Matt Damon. I can't tell her no to Matt Damon. He's just too cute."

Eric ignored the observation. He pulled off his shoes and tossed them on the closet floor. "How was your day?"

"I e-mailed over my resume," she said, "to the Woman's Center."

He didn't ask her what the point was, when he'd already told her that they might be moving at the end of the school year. She'd just have to quit at the end of the school year. Of course, it was by no means a guarantee he'd get the job. He was still a bit of an outsider in Dillon. He hadn't grown up there, but in a neighboring town. The Taylors had lived in Dillon for a few years, during which time Eric had worked with Jason in Pee Wee as well as coaching and teaching at one of the two junior highs, but they'd been gone for a while.

Tami said, "I'm brushing up on the literature in case I end up counseling."

"Oh. Is that why you're reading that book?" He asked as he sat on the bed and pulled off his socks. Then he pulled his polo off, leaving just the white undershirt, and stood and dropped his pants, revealing his green and black plaid boxers. He collected the clothes and tossed them into a laundry basket that barely fit on the closet floor before returning and getting under the covers.

"Just so you know," she informed him, "you're not getting laid tonight, and, frankly, I was being exceptionally generous last night. I could have been madder at you."

"Ohhhh…kay."

"So if you came in here expecting sex, you should revise your expectations. I'm going to read some more." She returned her eyes to her book.

"You don't want to cuddle?"

"I know what cuddling leads to with you."

"Not always."

She bent down and kissed his lips - a brief peck. "I want to read some more."

He patted his chest. She slid down and lay her head on his shoulder. He settled his chin on top of her head. She lifted her book above herself and started reading. She must have sensed he was reading it too, because she rolled over on her side and blocked the book with her body.

"I'm going to watch some game film," he said and rose. "Enjoy your dance with anger."

/FNL/

"You make the best lasagna," Eric told Tami.

"I guess I should just be grateful somebody values my abilities to do something."

"What?" he asked, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Nothing," Tami muttered. "I'll get more bread." She grabbed the bread basket and rose to head to the kitchen.

"What's with her?" Eric asked his daughter. Julie shrugged.

Eric rose and followed his wife to the kitchen. "Is something wrong, babe?"

"I got a call about my resume today."

"Oh."

"I thought, hey, this is great. I just sent it yesterday, and already they're calling me!"

"Oh."

She tossed the bread basket roughly on the counter. She opened the oven and pulled out the warm rolls that had just been sitting in there after she turned the oven off. "But no," she said. "They were just calling to tell me that they thought I was underqualified for the full-time counseling position, but they'd be happy to have me volunteer a few hours of my time every week to do the copying." She slammed the banking sheet down on the stove. "Copying!"

He didn't dare say anything at the moment.

She took a spatula and began violently breaking up the rolls. "Underqualified. I have a B.A. in psychology. They said master's preferred, but they didn't say required. And I have experience! I worked as a high school guidance counselor for two years before Julie was born! Well, one and a half anyway. Because we had to move halfway through the year for your job."

"Sorry, babe," he finally ventured. "Sorry you didn't get it."

She dropped the rolls into the basket. She clutched it, picked it up, and turned. "That's just the thing," she said. "You're not sorry I didn't get it. You're not sorry at all."

She began walking back to the dining room. He put a hand on her waist to stop her. "I'm sorry that not getting the job upset and disappointed you. I'm sorry you're angry and hurt. I am sorry about all that."

She reached down and took his hand off her hip. "I know you are," she said, her voice softened. "I just wish you could be sorry I didn't get the job too."

When they were back at the table, Eric saw Julie had eaten the salad and the corn and the bread but hadn't touched the lasagna. "You need to finish that," he said, pointing across the table. "You don't need to lose any weight."

Last week, for the first time in her young life, Julie had used the word "diet" in reference to herself. She'd been standing in the hallway looking at herself in the hall mirror that was attached to the wall just outside the bathroom. She'd cocked her head and said, "I need to go on a diet." Eric and Tami happened to be passing in the hall behind her. Tami had frozen and shot Eric an anxious look. Eric had left Tami there alone in the hall to talk to their daughter.

"It's not that," Julie said. "It has meat in it. I'm not eating meat anymore,"

"Since when?" Eric asked.

"Since yesterday. I'm not eating it anymore. Ever. I'm a vegetarian now."

"No," Eric said, "you're not."

"Yes," Julie replied, just as emphatically, "I am."

"No, you can't be a vegetarian. It's not healthy."

"The proper word is healthful," Julie corrected him. "And in fact, it's perfectly healthful. But more importantly, it's humane."

"Humane?" Coach Taylor asked, ripping a roll in half. "Oh, you think it's wrong to kill animals so we can live now?" He lathered his roll with butter.

"We don't need to kill animals to live. We can live without killing animals."

"We can't live as well. And animals die eventually anyway."

"So do people, Dad!"

"Yes, but it's not culturally acceptable to kill and eat people. Because people are more important than animals."

Tami smiled tensely but did not yet make a contribution to the conversation.

"So you're saying Bugsy isn't important?"

Bugsy was their pug, and he was now lying on his stomach under the table, ready to serve as both vacuum cleaner and mop, should any stray bits find their way to his feet. They'd gotten him when Julie was five. Eric had wanted a manly dog, but a neighbor's pug had given birth and Julie had fallen utterly in love with the damn little thing. Tami had told Eric the dog wasn't for him, anyway, it was for Julie, and didn't he want to make his little girl's face light up on Christmas? Not only was the dog little, but it acted like a damn cat. Nevertheless, he'd grown fond of Bugsy over the past seven years.

"We don't eat dogs." He put his roll down on his plate and looked straight at his daughter. "You aren't becoming a vegetarian and that's final. You won't get enough protein or vitamin B."

"Marcus is a vegetarian and he says there all sorts of non-meat sources of protein and – "

"Marcus, huh?" Eric asked. "You think some seventh grade boy knows more than your father? You know, I studied nutrition in college as part of my sports program. Meat is your surest way of getting vitamin B12. And if you don't get B12, you'll get depressed."

"Have you ever heard of supplements, Dad?"

"I've heard of them, yes. But it's always better to get your nutrients through food."

"Eric, could I speak to you for a moment in the kitchen?" Coach Taylor turned his gaze from his daughter to his wife. He took his napkin out of his lap and followed her from the dining room to the kitchen. The kitchen was tight and narrow, with one long row of counter and a half wall on each side. One side of the kitchen opened to the dining room, and the other on the hallway that wrapped around to the living room. They stood by the sink.

"Let it go," Tami said.

"Say what?"

"Let it go. I'll prepare some protein-rich, vegetarian sides from now on. I'll make sure she takes a daily vitamin."

"That's ridiculous! You shouldn't have to go to the trouble of preparing separate sides for her!"

"She'll do this for a few weeks, she'll get tired of it, and then she'll go back to eating meat. Trust me. It isn't going to last. It's easier just to let it go. It's easier for everyone."

He sighed. He turned and walked back to the dining room and sat at the table. "Your mother and I have decided you may be a vegetarian," he announced.

/FNL/

Eric went to the kitchen to get himself a glass of the wine Tami had opened that evening. He turned the bottle over and only a single drop went into his glass. That was strange. She had just opened it before dinner, and he'd had a beer with dinner. He hadn't had any wine.

"Tami, babe," he said, walking into the living room where she sat reading, a half full glass of wine in front of her on the coffee table. Julie was in bed. "Did you drink that whole bottle of wine by yourself?"

"Unless you or Julie had some," she answered, without turning around to look at him.

From where he stood behind the couch, he asked, "The whole bottle?"

"I got some bad news today, Eric. I learned I didn't get the job, remember? It's called self-medicating. Which I know, because I studied psychology and I'm a good counselor even if they don't think so."

"Okay," he said as he took a cautious step backward from the couch. "I'll just go get a beer."

Later that night, in bed, he put an arm around her and spooned up from behind. He kissed her ear. His hand slid up and cupped a breast. His thumb slid over her nipple, pushing the fabric of her T-shirt in small circles against it. She took his hand and pushed it away.

"Babe," he said. "It's been a while."

"I'm not in the mood tonight. Did you forget already? I just got turned down for that job today. Not that you care."

He sighed and rolled on his back. "I do care," he said. "I do care that you feel bad about it. Not that you care that I care."

"Goodnight," she said.

He yanked the blanket off himself. "I'm going to watch game film."