Page 98 of Dirty

I wondered about cooking for Adam, but quickly grew frustrated about living with my mother. With my new job, I could get my own place in a matter of a few months, and the thought of it excited me.

“If they do the stupid?” She clapped her hands together. “Close the knees.”

“I will,” I said, trying not to laugh.

She carefully removed the aluminum foil from the dishes, and then looked at me and grinned. “He has a head like a rock, but he’s a good boy.”

“He’s very nice. And, he’s polite. You raised him well.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

The differences between my mother and Adam’s mother were huge. I could see myself being close friends with Adam’s mother, but my mother would always be my mother, and nothing more.

It wasn’t that we weren’t friendly with each other, because we were. I was sure, however, that we’d never become friends.

Together, Maria and I set the table. Although Adam seemed interested, he sat quietly on the couch and watched as we got everything ready. After everything was in place, his mother let him get up from his time out chair.

“It’s ready for us to eat,” she said. “You can get up now”

I fully expected him to make a snide remark or say something funny, but he didn’t. He simply got up, walked to the table, and sat down.

He peered at what was in the dishes. After seeing what it was, he looked up with excitement in his eyes. “Tamales and chile con carne?”

His mother nodded. “Tu favorito.”

“English, mother.”

She glared at him and then looked at me. “Tu favorito,” she said “Your. Favorite.”

I looked at Adam. “Tu favorito.”

“Yes,” he said. “It is.”

She glared at him. “Lower your head.”

I lowered my head.

“Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Pork and Anaheim chiles?” he asked.

“Your favorite,” she said. “Fill your plate.”

“Ladies first,” he said.

She nodded toward the food. “Fill your plate, Adam.”

She looked up and noticed that he was wearing his hat. “Adam. Wesley. Downey. Do we wear little black hats at the table?”

He yanked it off and tossed it across the room. “No ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and smiled.