...his gaze immediately fixed upon the mailbox. He'd been thinking about it all day, as he had for many days now. Would there be a Marine waiting inside the house? What would the news do to him? Would he throw himself on the floor and bawl? Would he be driven insane?
Finding nothing out of the ordinary, his body uncoiled and grew weak. He took down the flag, which was suspended from the overhang of the porch, and folded it reverently, as he had each day since the start of the war. He dared not forget even once for fear of bad luck.
"Daddy?" his daughter called, exiting her room.
His stomach contracted at the sight of the tension in her face. What did it mean? Had there been a telegram, a phone call?
"Wha'?" he said, almost snapped, bracing for the worst.
"Nothing. Hi."
He caught a glimpse of the interior of her room. The door was ajar. Blue circles were swirling in the light cast by the lamp on her desk, where a textbook lay open. She'd become bold enough to sneak an occasional smoke in the house. Did this account for her tension? He fought the urge to rebuke her.
She followed him into the kitchen and sat facing him, elbows on the table. He opened a can of beer, crossed his legs, and leaned back, feigning ease. He hated drinking in front of her.
"Daddy," she said, avoiding his gaze; "is it okay if I go to college?"
He felt relief flush through him and tried to conceal it. He suspected the glaze in his eyes gave it away.
"Sure. You thought I'd say 'no'?"
Relieved, she smiled. "I wasn't sure. You were always telling Danny you wanted him to go, but you never said anything to me."
"Sorry, mommy, I shoulda. I guess I ain't up wit' the times. I still got a lotta - what'd they call it back in the day? - 'male chauvinist pig' in me."
She glowed. He melted with pride, humbled by her beauty. She was even more attractive than her mother had been at 18, and that was saying a lot. He would have thought his genes would have diminished rather than enhanced that beauty.
"I was thinkin' I'd go to Kingsborough to start, to see if I can handle it, then transfer to a four-year school. This way it wouldn't cost you so much. I could even ride my bike there when the weather's nice to save on car fare."
He looked her in the eye. "You’re too good to us, mommy. Kids're supposta give you ahgihda. You never gave us none. We're so lucky compared to some fam'lies on the block."
She flushed, pulling her dark hair away from her face, a characteristic of her mother's in the days when she'd worn her hair long. "I can't wait 'til Junior gets home. It's gonna be like the Fourth of July."
Dante smiled. "Yeah." And just as quickly as it had arisen, the smile vanished. "You can go to a four-year school if you want. Your mother's workin', the house's paid off. We ain't exactly poor, you know. I been puttin’ money away since your brother was born, in case he wanted to go. You can use that."
"But what if he changes his mind and wants to go?"
"We'll worry about it then. There's always a way. Don't worry."
"Thanks, Daddy." She seemed on the verge of tears. "I wanna go to Kingsborough first, though."
"Whateva you want. Whattaya gonna take up?"
"I don't know. What d'you think I should?"
He shrugged. "Somethin' that'll make the world better. It needs a lotta help."
She chuckled, deep dark eyes sparkling.
"The way taxes keep goin' up, you better get an education so you can help keep up wit' the bills."
"Oh! That reminds me. Mommy called. She's gonna be late again."
He masked his feelings. His daughter seemed to suspect nothing. He was glad. "D'jeat?"
She shook her head.
"Order a pizza. I'm gonna take a shower."
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