"Mother, could you
pass the syrup, please?" Amanda asked, helping herself enthusiastically to
some more pancakes.
"Certainly,
darling," Dotty replied with a short laugh as she handed her the bottle.
"It's nice to see you able to eat in the morning again." Turning an
eye on her son-in-law, she asked pointedly, "Lee, what about you?"
"Ah, no thanks,
Dotty," he replied with equanimity. "I'm not hungry."
Dotty leaned back in her
chair, folding her arms authoritatively across her chest. "Lee
Stetson," she began sternly, her voice filled with motherly concern.
"I'm not letting you get away with this breakfast boycott of yours. Now,
what can I fix you?"
"Not a thing,
really," he explained with infinite patience, clinking his spoon absently
against the side of his cup. "Coffee is just fine. I've never been a big eater
in the morning."
Amanda struggled to
conceal her smile as the two of them played out their morning ritual. She knew her mother had long ago given up
any hope of reforming Lee's eating habits, but the daily inquisition remained.
While Lee frequently moaned about Dotty's dogged persistence, it was without
any real conviction, and she suspected that her husband secretly enjoyed his
mother-in-law's attentions. It had almost become a private game between them.
"Now, Lee,"
her mother continued in her most pedantic tone, "I don't know how someone
who's obviously as intelligent as you are can fail to realize that breakfast is
the most important meal of the day." Shaking her head, she began to clear
the dishes, barely missing a beat. "Your body needs fuel. How can you expect to function in the
morning without something in your stomach?"
Coughing slightly,
Amanda turned her head in time to catch her husband's seductive smile.
"Would you care to answer that one?" he whispered as he reached
across her for the newspaper.
"He's a lost cause,
Mother," she responded, shooting him a look as she devoured the last few
bites of food. "You can't argue with years of reheated coffee and stale
rolls."
"Well, it seems to
be catching," Dotty mumbled, the telltale squeak of the hinges on the
front door instantly alerting her. "Phillip," she called, "aren't you going to eat something before you leave?"
"I don't have time,
Grandma," he answered, cramming a large notebook into his backpack as he
stuck his head into the kitchen. "I'm already late."
"If you want to
eat, I can give you a ride," Lee said evenly.
Phillip scowled,
hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. "No thanks, I'll take the bus."
"Suit
yourself," Lee responded, taking refuge behind the newspaper.
"Remember, you're
still grounded," Amanda put in, coming to his rescue. "We expect you
home right after school today."
Phillip let out an
exaggerated sigh. "Okay. But if I don't go now, I'll miss the bus."
The door slammed shut
with a bang, and Amanda turned to Lee, running a hand along his arm. "Don't let it bother you. Phillip's
just acting out. He knows he was wrong, and you had every right to ground him
for his behavior the other night." She gave him a light squeeze.
"It's exactly what I would have done."
"Maybe," he sighed. "But you probably
would have handled it more diplomatically."
"I wish you'd tell
me what you two fought about."
Lee frowned, refolding
the paper and tossing it on the table. "It's nothing you need to worry
about," he assured her. "It'll straighten itself out eventually.
Besides," he added, leaning over to give her a light kiss, "As long
as he's home on time and civil to you, he can expend all the excess energy he
wants hating me."
"Phillip doesn't
hate you, Lee," Dotty observed wisely. "If you ask me, I think that's
the crux of his problem."
Hearing her husband suck
in a breath, Amanda resumed her gentle pressure on his arm. "Maybe you
should try talking to him again, Sweetheart," she told him carefully.
"Once you've both had a chance to calm down."
"I'm perfectly calm
now, Amanda," he began testily, then catching her look, his tone
unconsciously softened. "Okay. I'll try to…"
"Mom, Lee,"
Jamie called suddenly. "Come here, you've gotta see this."
Pushing her chair back
from the table, she shot a quick glance at Lee. He was halfway into the family
room, responding quickly to Jamie's urgent tone.
"I was watching the
news for my social studies report when they made this special
announcement," Jamie said apprehensively, his words tumbling over each
other as he spoke. "Is that…"
"Hang on a minute,
Sport," she heard Lee say as she entered the room close on his heels.
Glancing briefly at her
husband's face, she immediately recognized the concentrated scowl usually
reserved for work emergencies. Her
expression matching his, she, too, turned her attention to the television.
"Sporadic fighting
continues in and around the capital city," the announcer intoned with
modulated self-importance. "Sources close to Santarilla President, Paulo
Sanchez, tell us that the rebel forces are holding an undisclosed number of
hostages, seized early this morning from Government House. It is not yet known
if any Americans can be counted in their number. On the local front. . ."
"Lee," Amanda
began, quickly catching her husband's eye. She saw him shrug slightly, raising
an eyebrow as he stole a quick glance at Jamie. Evidently this news was as much
of a surprise to him as it was to the rest of them.
"Do you think Dad's
okay?"
Amanda looked at her
son's solemn face, searching for the words to reassure him. Her first instinct
was to shield him, but something in his eyes spoke his need for the truth,
however frightening. There had already been enough well-intentioned lies
between them to last a lifetime.
"I don't know,
Jamie," she told him in a low voice. "It may not be as bad as it
looked."
"But they said. .
."
"Your mother's
right," Lee stated with studied calm. "Let's not worry until we have
all the facts." Giving the boy a reassuring pat on the back, he quickly
added, "Come on; I need to get going. Grab your books, and I'll drop you
at school on my way."
Jamie silently agreed, biting his lower lip as he
sprinted for his room.
"Damn," Lee
muttered as soon as the boy was out of earshot. "That really came out of
left field. The last report said things had settled down in Santarilla."
"What do you
think?"
Lee ran a hand briefly
through his hair. "I honestly don't know. It could be nothing."
"And I could be the
Easter Bunny," Amanda laughed bitterly. "Lee, it broke on the morning
news. That means whatever happened had to have been picked up by the Agency
flash data reports. . ."
"Last night, at
least," he agreed solemnly. "Yeah, I know. I should have been
notified. Unless maybe Billy. . ."
Unless Billy knew it was
serious and had decided to 'spare' her, she thought with a grimace. She could
tell by Lee's restless pacing that he, too, was thinking along similar lines.
'Damn it, Joe,' she
cursed inwardly, torn between anger and concern. 'Why couldn't you have stayed
home?'