Five Flavors of Dumb - Antony John [58]
My breath caught as the scene came into sudden focus. Finn wasn’t interested in Kallie—never had been. It was Tash. It was all about Tash. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before.
Just then, Mom appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her expression caught between amazement and puzzlement. No one but me even noticed her.
Is your father really doing what I think he’s doing? she signed, stifling a laugh.
Absolutely. He’s an air guitar genius. Didn’t you know?
Mom snorted, but it seemed to require effort. Frankly, she looked exhausted. What are they listening to?
I was going to finger-spell Jimi Hendrix, but I just lifted the cover to one of Dad’s LPs instead.
She nodded, but then her eyebrows shot up, and I knew she’d spotted Tash. She didn’t seem as amused anymore.
Is Grace sleeping through this? she signed.
When I didn’t respond she stalked up to Dad and waved. “Is Grace sleeping through this?” she shouted. “Where’s the baby monitor?”
Dad looked like someone rudely awoken from a very happy dream. He shut off the TV, ran across the room, and turned on the monitor with fumbling hands. Suddenly there was a new sound, as all five lights on the monitor sprang to life.
Dad sprinted across the den toward the staircase, but Mom stopped him with an outstretched arm. “Don’t bother,” she snapped. “I’ll do it myself.”
Mom spun around and left the deflated mob in her wake. Dad sighed twice, then shook his head and trailed after her.
Tash knelt down and pushed her guitar back into its case.
“You should stay,” said Finn, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I—I’d like my mom to meet you.”
Tash peered up scornfully. “Why?”
Finn’s eyes darted around the room. “Just ’cause ...”
She picked up the case and swung it across her back. “This was cool. Thanks.”
“You need a ride home,” blurted Finn as a last resort.
Tash leaned forward and planted a kiss on Finn’s cheek. “I’ll be okay, Finn. I’ve got a bus pass.”
Then it was just Finn and me, scurrying around in a last-ditch attempt to clean up the evidence before the interrogation began.
Sure enough, Dad returned a minute later, slumping onto a bar stool and closing his eyes tightly.
A couple minutes after that Mom arrived too, clutching a still hysterical Grace. She popped out a boob and pulled the baby toward it, trying to counteract our neglect through a midnight snack. It seemed to work.
“What on earth were you thinking?” she asked finally.
Dad raised his hand. “I’m sorry. It was my fault.”
“No, it’s everyone’s fault,” corrected Mom. “You all know she’s up there. Or did you just forget about her somehow?”
“We’re sorry, honey. Okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. Sorry doesn’t make it right. All three of you chose to ignore her because it’s easier that way. All so you can prance around the den pretending you’re Jimi freaking Hendrix.”
Finn shook his head. “We were just having fun, Mom.”
“Wonderful. Some new girl comes over and suddenly our family’s idea of fun is playing music loud enough to bust the walls, and neglecting the baby.”
I could see Finn growing tense, his jaw clamped shut like he didn’t quite trust himself to speak.
“You know who she is, Mom,” I said calmly. “That’s Tash. I told you about her.”
“Frankly, I don’t care what she’s called.”
Finn snorted. “I bet you don’t. What is it—the green hair or the piercings?”
“Oh, you’d like it to be about that, wouldn’t you?”
Dad stepped off his stool, knelt down beside Mom, and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Hang on, Lynn. Tash was very pleasant. This isn’t her fault.”
Mom pulled her arm away. “Is that supposed to reassure me? Frankly, I’d prefer to put this down to her influence. It beats the alternative.”
“You don’t know the first thing about Tash,” I groaned.
“And God willing, I’d like to keep it that way. And another thing: This band experiment has gone on long enough. If you’re so desperate to go to Gallaudet, then I suggest you get back to studying and focus on applying for scholarships, instead of wasting your time.”
I was about