TWENTY QUESTIONS
Jamie King didn't want to be there.
He sat slumped in the booth across from his stepfather, wishing he was anywhere else. At home, with his head under the covers. At the library, with his nose in a book. Even over at his friend Dustin's house, watching movies. But he wasn't, because his mom had stripped the beds to do the laundry and the library was closed and he and Dustin were in the middle of a dumb fight. So he was sitting in a booth at The Pie Plate, miserable.
Phillip had asked if he wanted to come to the arcade with him and Libby, but he'd said no. He didn't need Libby to know how bad he was at Space Invaders and when there were three people along someone always had to stand and watch the two-on-two games, and he knew it'd be him this time because of course Phillip would want to play with his girlfriend. That was logical. So he'd said "thanks for asking, but no."
He and Phillip didn't fight the way they used to. They still called each other names, like doofus and wormbrain, but they didn't mean it the way they had when they were younger. He wasn't sure why that was, except that things between them had seemed to settle down a lot after Lee started spending more time with them.
Well, not right at first, because Jamie hadn't been at all happy about Lee coming around so much. Definitely not after his mom had come back from California. Lee had been around every day back then, sometimes twice a day. Sometimes he even slept overnight on the pull-out couch in their living room (four nights in a row, once, when Amanda got a cold and everyone freaked out). He was always there, or had just been there, or was on his way there. Jamie had been sad and scared and mad that his mother suddenly needed someone besides him and Phillip — and he had been a jerk.
He'd apologized for it. No one had made him, though his grandmother did drop a few strong hints that he might want to consider smoothing things over.
Lee had been good about it. "I didn't take it personally," he'd said.
Jamie hadn't known what to say, so he'd said, "Okay."
"Should I have?" Lee had asked, one corner of his mouth turning up in a half-smile.
"No," Jamie had said, thinking his mother would tell him this was not a real apology. "It wasn't personal. I was being a jerk, and I'm sorry."
They were okay now. Good, even. Lee made plenty of time for family stuff. It was like the direct opposite of his dad, who had picked up and moved back to Africa and came home maybe once a year.
Jamie loved his dad but he hated those visits. Joe tried to cram a whole year of activities and catching up into a week or two, and it was chaotic and exhausting. They were in the middle of one now, which was maybe also part of the reason he felt so rotten that day. It was definitely the reason he couldn't stay home and hide under the covers.
He sighed without realizing it, and Lee looked up from his menu, his brows raised in a silent question. Jamie shrugged and looked out the window.
Lee tapped the menu in front of him. "Eat something," he said.
"I don't really feel like it."
Lee nodded. "Just look, okay? Humor me."
Jamie sighed again and flipped open the menu. Usually he got the burger. All the burgers here were massive, loaded with condiments and toppings like bacon and sauteed mushrooms — the one he liked had a huge onion ring on the top. But that day he couldn't stomach it. His guts were churning, as if he were about to go over the top of the roller coaster at Six Flags.
He shut the menu and pushed it away. The waitress was standing at the end of the table, expectantly. She was new — he could tell because her pen hovered over the order pad, not like Brenda, who jotted things down like an afterthought but still got them all right. "A side of fries, please," he said, "and a Coke."
Lee ordered, then settled back in his seat, stirring cream into his coffee. He looked out the window, silent, as if his mind were somewhere else. Maybe he didn't want to be there, either.
"Why'd we come here?" Jamie asked finally.
Lee blinked. "Oh. Well, I thought you needed to get out of the house," he said. "No?"
"I guess." His Coke arrived and he poked at the ice with the straw. "I was supposed to get out of the house anyway."
"Oh, right. The movies."
"Yeah."
"So what happened to that?"
"Dustin and I had an argument."
"Really? About what?"
"It's dumb. I don't even want to talk about it, it's so dumb." Dustin and Jamie were doing a group project together and Dustin hadn't done a single thing. He'd spent their entire work session at school drawing spaceships on the pages of his notebook and generally goofing around, and now Jamie knew he'd have to do double the work that weekend to make sure they stayed caught up.
"Is this about the history project?"
"How'd you know about that?"
"I heard you telling Phillip about it yesterday while you were making your lunch." He hadn't been eavesdropping; he'd been sitting right at the breakfast bar while they'd made their sandwiches. Philip had just rolled his eyes and told Jamie to relax, it would turn out fine.
"He wasn't much help."
Lee chuckled. "I guess he has a different outlook about academics from yours, yeah."
"I just don't want it to suck, and it's going to suck. And now we can't even hang out because we're both mad at each other."
"So, what, are you going to do the whole thing?"
"Isn't that how group projects work? One person does almost all of it and the other one messes around?"
"That's how life works half the time."
Jamie knew he was scowling. He could feel the pressure between his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his midsection and slumped in the seat. "So what do I do then?"
"Don't do it. But if you want to stay friends, make up and never do another group project together again."
"So I just get a C or whatever because Dustin's an idiot?"
"Jamie, do you have any idea how many C's I got in school? A ton. It'll be fine."
"It'll pull down my average."
"And?"
And? And a thousand thoughts ran through his head. He liked having an A in history. In as many subjects as possible, if he was really honest with himself. He liked the way his mom said she was proud of him when she saw his report card. His dad usually said something in his letter home, too, and that was kind of nice.
"Look, a C in one assignment in seventh grade is not going to ruin your life. Five C's aren't going to ruin your life." He paused. "Why are you friends with Dustin?"
"Why? I don't know. He's fun to be around."
"Right. So the things that make him fun to be around are probably the things that make him terrible to do group work with. Am I on to something here?"
"Yeah, I guess you are."
Their food arrived and they were distracted by first bites for a moment. The crinkle fries were back; Jamie made a mental note to tell his mom, who said the other ones weren't as good. He wasn't sure why she thought that, but she did.
"So are you going to make up with Dustin or what?" Lee asked, after a couple of bites of his burger. He almost never got the burger and Jamie watched him eat it with a twinge of regret.
"I guess."
Lee rolled his eyes. "Jamie. Ride over to his house tomorrow and make up."
"What do I say?" He wasn't good at that stuff, he always flubbed it.
"I don't know. Tell him what you told me. You like hanging out with him but you're not going to do his work." Lee ate a french fry. "Actually maybe run this whole thing past your mom. I'm terrible at apologies."
"You are?"
"You can ask her. I'm getting better but yeah, I'm not great at it."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. I clam up. I get mad at myself for saying something dumb in the first place and then I kind of fumble my way through it."
Jamie smirked, imagining it. He knew exactly what Lee meant. His expression sobered as he remembered his plans for the next day — a whole day with Joe and Carrie. "I can't go over to his place tomorrow. We're going out with Dad, remember?"
Lee nodded, his expression unreadable. It was always that way when Joe came up, like he was holding something back. He probably was, Jamie thought. While Lee was always polite and friendly to Joe, Jamie got the sense they didn't completely approve of each other. He'd asked his mom about it once and she'd just given him her usual smile and said, "They're fine, sweetheart." But fine didn't mean good, as Phillip pointed out later on.
"Wait a minute," Jamie said, "isn't this supposed to be your date night with Mom?"
Lee nodded. "Yeah."
"So what happened?"
"We're going tomorrow instead. She's having dinner with your dad tonight."
Jamie frowned. "She is? And you're not?"
"Nope, I'm not."
"How come?"
Lee sighed. "I was supposed to, but to be honest I think they should have some time to talk about things without me around."
"You mean talk about me and Phillip."
"I guess I do mean that. But just in general, about parenting stuff."
"Why shouldn't you have a say?" Jamie said. "You're way more involved than he ever was."
"It doesn't work that way."
"Well that's dumb. You know us better than he does."
Lee sighed. They had never had this conversation before. Jamie had never actually thought about what kinds of decisions his dad was involved in or not involved in. His mother never really said "I'll have to talk about it with your dad," when he asked for something. Then again, she never said "I'll have to talk about it with Lee," either, though he was sure she did.
He had to admit he hadn't expected Lee to be so hands-on. He came out to all the games and meets and science fairs and recitals Amanda did — if one of them was working, the other was there. There was always someone cheering him or Phillip on. Lee helped with math homework and they'd converted the space above the garage to a makeshift darkroom together. Jamie was saving up for some new lenses for his camera, but Lee had struck a deal to pay him for washing and waxing his car every week so it didn't take so long and he could use his allowance for other stuff, and he paid almost what he'd have paid at the place he usually went.
And somehow he'd known enough to drag Jamie here so he couldn't sit and stew about something out of his control. He wondered how Lee knew — he didn't think his mom had suggested it. He'd barely seen her that day. But Lee kind of looked like he needed the same thing.
"Are you getting pie?" he asked.
"I thought so, but I'm not sure," Lee said. "We don't have to drag it out if you'd rather go home."
"I'm not in a hurry," Jamie said. He knew he needed to time it perfectly, so he'd miss the interrogation from his dad but still see his mom before bed. "But the movie theater is right over there." He pointed down the block to the second-run theater tucked in between two office buildings.
"Sure," Lee said. He drained his coffee.
"I'll run over there and get tickets," Jamie said.
"Nah, hang in there. We can walk over together in a bit. I'm sure nothing starts until seven anyway."
"I think there's a James Bond," he suggested, hopefully.
"No thanks," Lee said.
"Why do you hate James Bond so much?"
"Too many reasons to count," Lee said. "But for starters, every single movie is far too long. Anyway, I'm sure there's something playing we'll both like. Or at the very least, tolerate."
"Anything will be better than twenty questions with Dad."
"Jamie," Lee said, and Jamie knew he was trying to be patient.
"What?"
"It's once a year."
"It's the worst. And it gets worse every time."
"He's your dad, he wants to know how you're doing."
"Well he could know a lot better if he lived here instead of halfway around the world," Jamie insisted, stabbing at his Coke again. It was almost empty and the ice rattled in the bottom of the glass.
Lee sipped his coffee and refused to comment.
Jamie felt a sudden urge to confide in his stepfather. It seemed to happen more and more often, that he turned to Lee with his troubles instead of Amanda or even Phillip. It still seemed kind of wild to him because of how they'd started out, and whenever he did it he knew it seemed wild to Lee, too. "Sometimes I wonder if we're even from the same family."
"Your mother would probably have a few things to say about that."
Jamie rolled his eyes. "I don't mean that. I just mean we're all so different. Phillip and I aren't anything like him."
"I don't know if that's totally true," Lee said.
Jamie crossed his arms over his chest. "Name one way I'm like him. And I don't mean looks."
"You're both smart."
Jamie rolled his eyes. "Mom's smart. I could have gotten it from her."
"You argue like a lawyer." Lee was grinning now. "You probably got that from both of them."
"That's not a real quality," Jamie said.
"This is the nature-nurture argument," Lee said. "Of course you share traits. Half your genetic material is his. Your mom says you're just like him in some ways so you'll have to ask her."
"What ways?" Jamie prodded. "Just tell me."
"She says you're quiet like him, that's all. You're a thinker like he is."
Jamie slumped in his seat, dissatisfied with the answer. "A thinker," he muttered. He felt his brows draw together again.
"Anyway, we don't sit around and talk about how you're just like your dad," Lee said. "It's just something she said once, a long time ago."
"How long?"
"I don't know. Three or four years ago."
Jamie studied his stepfather, poking at the ice in the bottom of his Coke again. "Well do you think it's true?"
"Sure." Lee smirked as he sipped his coffee. "You're definitely good at cross-examination."
Jamie rolled his eyes. He could get away with that with Lee, but never with his mother or grandmother. "Very funny," he said. "Dad isn't even that kind of lawyer."
Lee set down his mug and leaned his elbows on the table. "Look, I have no clue about what it's like to have a dad who lives on the other side of the world. I barely remember having a dad. So I'm sure it's not easy, but it's probably better than the alternative. You know?"
"I guess."
"I'm not trying to lay a guilt trip on you or anything," Lee said. "Just… you know. He's trying."
Jamie didn't know what to say, so he said what he always said when that happened. "Okay."
Lee tapped his fingertips on the table top and made a soft sound in the back of his throat. "I'm serious. Just think about it."
Jamie looked at his watch. It was quarter to seven now. "James Bond is starting in fifteen minutes."
Lee sighed. "Fine. But you'd better be prepared for my future pick because you're going to hate it."
"You think so?"
"I'm going to do my best." Lee pushed up from the table, and they headed over to the pastry case to pay for their dinner and order pie to go. Jamie scooped up their to-go containers, two perfect white boxes with their dessert inside, and followed Lee to the door. His thoughts were crowding around in his head, all jostling for the front the way his classmates did when they were trying to get on the bus at the end of the day. Finally one made it through, sharp and focused, and Jamie knew what he had to do.
He hesitated at the door to the restaurant. "Lee?" he said.
Lee paused, holding the door open. "Yeah?"
"Maybe twenty questions with Dad won't be so bad after all. Maybe we should… I dunno… go home?"
Lee laughed and tousled his hair. Jamie didn't duck away like usual. "I knew you'd come around," he said. "Let's go. You can save James Bond for Dustin."
"I guess."
"I'll even pay for the tickets."
"Anything so you don't have to see it, huh?"
"Yep," Lee said, stepping out into the cool evening air. "Pretty much anything."
