Five for Forever Read Online Free PDF Page A

prep.
    “What took you so long, Dad?”
    “Got asked out on a date,” Rick admitted.
    “Really,” Charles lifted one headphone off the ear. Was that thing even on?
    “That is a very modern . . .” he started.
    “I was asked out on dates before you were even born,” Rick interrupted the ten-year-old wisdom machine.
    “No doubt, Dad, and I adjust my statement from modern to retro , but that was before Mom and, considering Agnes’s age, a minimum of eighteen years ago, closer to twenty. Right.”
    “I think the correct English language forces a question mark behind the ‘right’ to give even a hint of politeness,” Rick countered.
    “That made you twenty-five,” Agnes smiled and spread her hands to indicate that Rick should take over the food prep. “I think Dad is reluctant to go out with Debbie but doesn’t know how to say no.”
    “Is dating always that psychological?” Charles asked. “Not that I want to start early. I just want to know the facts . . .”
    “This conversation is over!” Rick announced, firmly. He turned to Aga. “Can you clean up Dana, please, and I’ll start with the cooking.”
    “That was a lame cut-off from the story of the day, Dad,” she complained. “To be continued during dinner. No distractions, then.”
    “Oh, I have a great distraction story for dinner,” Rick promised.
    “The date thing is not distraction enough?” Agnes picked up Dana, who already gave a hearty yawn after a hard day playing, singing, and digging in the sandbox.
    “Not even close. You’ll see.”
     
    Food in a big family was like a Billy Joel concert, always about pleasing the crowd with no surprises and lots of greatest hits. Tonight it was chicken breasts in lemon sauce with rice and roasted vegetables. With Agnes’s spotless prep, it was all a matter of timing. Sautéing the breasts in butter while the rice simmered, and giving the carrots, eggplants, and zucchinis a hard time in the pan with a healthy amount of extra-virgin olive oil. Fifteen minutes later, everything was ready to go, and the Flint family gathered around the table, Britta after the usual three reminders. While his late wife, Bella, had insisted on a before-meal prayer, the reality of her death had caused a sort of religious rift in the family. Agnes and Britta refused to pray, Dana was too young to have formed an opinion about God’s justness herself, and Charles, even with his brilliant intellect, was convinced that there was a God who hosted their mother and made apples fall from the trees. Rick was still too angry at whatever faith, god, or random cosmic event had taken the love of his life from him and the kids, even after three years of mourning and healing. The kids still set a place where Bella would have sat on the far end at the table, Rick on the other end, and two kids along each of its sides.
    I wonder what the table would look like if I had a date over for dinner. Still the plate for a ghost at the table?
    “Thanks for us being here. Hope you all had a great day.” Rick’s version of opening dinner.
    They passed the food around.
    “Who is the lucky date?” Britta asked.
    “Well, technically Dad is the date,” Charles corrected.
    “Let’s pretend this is an equal opportunity date. Debbie Flack, Cheyenne’s mom,” Rick said.
    “I like Cheyenne,” Dana squeaked, mouth full of rice.
    “How can you name your child Cheyenne?” Britta groaned.
    Everyone looked at Charles for a comprehensive answer. Who needed Google when you had it at the table with you? He blinked twice and swallowed. “How? You tell the nurse after birth, and she takes care of the registration . . . Oh, you mean why of all names Cheyenne?” He sat straighter and pushed his glasses back up. “There are two competing trends. One is the naming of your own children after celebrities’ kids. Mom and Dad likely had Charles Windsor of England in mind when they named me . . .”
    “After Charlie Brown . . .” Agnes fell into