"A Cock Fight"

“Mother!” mom barks. Her hand flies to their second home and Mr. McGee puts his hand on mom’s back until she remembers, until her nails are free of being chewed to nothing. It occurs to me that Mr. McGee is helping mom to break her nasty habit, and that he knows more about my dad than even I may know. The thought hits me with pain and sweetness.



The color is drained from Mr. McGee’s face. Pale, he looks more Irish than Italian. Pale, I am reminded of the other night when I mentioned Seth’s mother. My grandmother has just touched a place Mr. McGee doesn’t want touched. Zelda smiles, letting us all know that a tender spot is exactly what she was searching for all along.


“Dad’s always thirsty,” Seth says. His distrust for my grandmother is palpable, like a bug I can squash with my foot.


“I see,” Zelda says and sighs with the disappointing weight of her new knowledge.


“Aw come on Zelda, don’t you want to see my checkbook? Then you’d know for sure how thirsty I am,” Mr. McGee smiles. Mom swats his arm to tell him to stop but it is a playful gesture. There is no urgency underneath her movement. She sees, like we all do, that Mr. McGee’s smile is sincere. If he were a bird, there would be no ruffled feathers on his breast. Grandma must see this because she is the one who flaps her arms all over the place, looking uncomfortable at her own non-kosher dinner.


“That’s not necessary, thank you.”


“Are you sure, mother?” mom asks. Her smile is tight and ready to snap. Like Grandma, she is not good at keeping her feathers in place.


“Quite,” Zelda frowns and cuts into her meat and cheese meal with the zest of a hungry hunter.


I want to hug Zelda for only wanting the best for my mother, for taking everyone’s flack and never once backing down. I want to slap my mother for not appreciating Zelda looking out for her.