“Well, the lady who was talking keeps saying ‘sis,’ and the teacher said something about ‘your daughter’s little Timmy’ not being imolent—” “Indolent.” “Right, and then he asked about a r-re-reci—” “Recital,” I assist. “Yeah. And I know that’s a piano thing.” “Well,” I say, “it’s also a dance thing, but I think that since it’s a boy, and in this state, too, we can rule that option out.” “Yeah,” he agreed, “and also because the teacher’s wife asked if they wanted any of her old sheet music.”
“I see,” I say, surprised at how much he’s improved. He’s getting better with each session and has much more focus than I do. Although I suppose he cares more about the conversation. The waitress is back to ask our lunch order, just in time to hear his remark and see the impressed expression I’m wearing. I expect her to say something, but she just smiles at me knowingly. It’s not until I get the check that I realize she couldn’t quite resist. “Better not blink” is scribbled down next to the total. I quickly hide the receipt in my purse. Johnny wants to see how much we spent, but I don’t let him.
Untitled
Photography by Erika Alatorre Spring 2017
36