The Variables

Maxine slopped a large scoop of eggs on Lucy’s plate. She kept moving down the line: some for Galen, Malcolm, Monroe, and Harper. They looked at the eggs and pushed them around on their plates; a thin layer of uncooked whites wobbled under their forks.

“Where did they come from?” Malcolm asked.

“Chickens, dummy,” Monroe answered.

“I mean...” Malcolm continued, ignoring his brother, “where did the chickens come from?”

This seemed like a valid question, so everyone turned to their mother and awaited her reply. Scott, with wild hair and several days of beard growth, crossed his arms over his chest and pushed the plate back an inch. Maxine watched his actions scornfully and turned her attention to her children.

“The East Tower has an agricultural level. They have chickens there,” Maxine said with a curt nod and raised eyebrows. “Any other questions?”

“Do they deliver them to your doorstep every day?” Monroe asked.

“Do we have to eat eggs every day?” whined Malcolm.

Lucy took a bite and felt the soft folds of the undercooked egg rest against her tongue. She swallowed quickly and reached for the salt. Galen pushed it toward her and then nabbed the pepper, and they sprinkled their mother’s meal with enough spices to hide its imperfections.

“No and no,” Maxine replied. “Eat and stop your complaining. You have fresh eggs, seasonally appropriate vegetables, and your mother just made you breakfast. Get up anytime you want and make your own damn meal if you want.”

It was just going to be one of those days. The kids exchanged wary glances and started to eat. Harper rested her fist on her chin and slid her breakfast from one end of the plate to the other. She started to mumble something, but Maxine shot her a withering look and Harper clamped her mouth shut. Even she knew it was best not to push further.

Scott stood up without touching his breakfast.

“I’m going to the track,” he a

“Now?” Maxine asked, but it wasn’t a question. “When we can, we have breakfast as a family.”

Her father looked at the empty chair where Ethan should have been. He’d been up and out of the apartment before any of them woke. While he hadn’t been as brusque to Lucy (she was sure he heard about her conversation with Cass and perhaps he felt guilty for excluding her and hurting her feelings), he had not warmed up to their parents. Scott took to the behavior by withdrawing. Maxine seemed perpetually wound-up for a fight.

“Yes, now,” Scott said.

The kids held their breath.

“Sit down and eat your eggs.” Maxine pointed to his plate.

“I’ll eat them when I return.”

“Then sit down and don’t eat them,” she said.

It was a brief showdown with neither parent willing to back down. Scott’s face was expressionless, but Maxine stood there holding her spoon like a catapult. It was angled in his direction just enough to look like she was considering launching the rest of the eggs straight into his pajamas. It wouldn’t have been the first time Maxine had thrown food at them to incite proper behavior or change the current tone. Lucy didn’t know of many other mothers who used food fights to their benefit, but in many ways Mama Maxine was magical.

Once Lucy had told Salem, “She will bite your head off in love,” and it was the truest sentence she had ever said.

“What’s your deal?” Maxine asked Scott once he sat down.

Scott scratched at his chin. He looked quickly to Lucy and then back to Maxine. “It’s just a big day and I’m nervous. Copia is leaving today.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows and swallowed another bite. “Really?” she asked, smiling. “Will Grant be able to call once he gets there? When can we visit? Can I go there? That’s the best news!”

“I don’t know any of those answers,” Scott answered.

“That was faster than I anticipated,” Maxine added. “No need to be nervous. It’s out of your hands now.” Scott nodded and pulled his plate back toward him; he took a tentative bite. Her mother reveled in her victory by smiling widely at the faces before her. “Eat up, kiddos. I’m reinstituting date days. So, let’s do our drawing...” she reached behind her and grabbed a small mug, “Who shall it be today?” She shook the mug and it made a small fluttering noise.

“It used to just alternate,” Galen said. “I am pretty sure it was my turn and then you had the twins.”

“I’ve had dates with you since then,” Maxine replied and rolled her eyes.

Galen shook his head adamantly.

“I have.” Maxine lowered her chin and stared at Galen while she reached into the mug and drew a name. “Lucy,” she read and opened up the paper for everyone to see.

“What if it had been Ethan?” Monroe asked.

“Then I’d go find Ethan and drag him on a date with me.”

“Galen can go if he wants to,” Lucy said, pointing at her younger brother with her fork.

“I picked you,” Maxine said as if that solved everything. “We’ll go in an hour or so?”

“She said I could go instead...”

“It’s Lucy’s date.” Maxine put her cup down loudly on the table and bits of coffee splashed down the sides. “That’s the name I picked and that’s the way it works. And that’s final.”

Lucy froze and watched her mother wipe at the spilled drink. Dates were intended to be fun and spontaneous, and spending an afternoon with her mother on Kymberlin didn’t sound like something she wanted or needed. It sounded forced and atrocious.

Galen pouted and grumbled, taking spiteful bites of his breakfast and rolling his eyes. After taking a final bite, Scott got up and went to the sink; as he walked by, Maxine put her hand out and touched his arm. He stood facing away from them, staring at the wall, and when he turned, he had tears in his eyes.

“Scott—” Maxine said, concerned, and she started to get up, but he motioned for her to stay seated.

He walked over to Lucy and kissed the top of her head.

“Have a good date day with your mom, okay?” He nodded to encourage her. Lucy knew that tone: the subtle warding off of future meltdowns. “Promise me. Have fun.”

“Jeez, Dad. It’s a date. And it’s not like you’re going off to war,” Lucy said, laughing.

Scott didn’t answer. He just smiled wanly and took off toward his room without another word. Maxine watched him with a confused expression, but then she turned back to her kids and clapped her hands. “Okay, clean those plates and clear the table. Chop-chop.” Standing up in a flurry of busyness, she grabbed glasses and orchestrated a queue to the sink, patting bottoms and facilitating her cleanup crew with military precision. Once all the plates were deposited into the sink, Maxine shooed the children off to play, but Lucy hung back. She watched her mom wipe a flyaway piece of hair out of her face. When her mother’s back was turned, Lucy walked over to the mug where their names had been written on neatly folded pieces of paper and she dumped the paper into her hands.

She opened up a strip. Lucy. And another. Lucy. And the last three: Lucy, Lucy, Lucy.

Her hand went to put the paper back into the mug and she jumped when she heard her mother talk to her from the sink without turning around.

“So, now you know the secret,” Maxine said.

“It’s cheating.” Lucy crumpled up the paper and walked it over to the garbage instead.

“Nope,” her mother replied. “It’s called parenting.”

“Galen wanted to go,” she said to her mother.

Maxine turned. She looked so exasperated and yet so mischievous, it was hard for Lucy to look away.

“And Galen will get to go when Galen gets to go. But today...my lovely favorite oldest daughter...”

Lucy smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. “Always such a cop-out...”

“...go get ready.”

“I blame Harper for losing favorite daughter status. It was mine for the taking.”

“Shoo,” Maxine tried again and this time Lucy acquiesced. She slipped upstairs and stood in her room for a requisite amount of time before just slipping into the pair of jeans and white t-shirt that Gordy had sent over to their apartment. It was her size, but she hated that she had to wear them.