Page 30 of Love Scenes

Daya ushers me through empty, spacious rooms, chasing the sound of chatter in the formal dining space. It’s where we spend most holidays together, a backyard extension with a gigantic zebrawood table that seats ten.

Every seat is already filled except for one. Dad at the head. A seat open for Daya. Sarai to the left. Melanie and Terrence beside her. Powell sitting at the other head. Tyler beside him. Mom and Guy.

And Joseph fucking Donovan.

As if things aren’t awkward enough, here he is laughing with Guy, sipping on a glass of water, cheese board remnants on his side plate. They’ve already set out the main course buffet-style on a long table against the sidewall. Waiting for me, I guess. A thousand questions on the hows and whys sit poised on the tip of my tongue, ahead of all my greetings for my family.

“There she is! My Sloanius!” Dad declares, getting up to hug me. “We were worried you weren’t going to make it.”

It’s truly only seven minutes past the hour. “So you gave away my seat?”

He takes inventory of the room. “Well, shit!” he says, cheery as ever. “Lemme go in the kitchen and grab one of the stools.”

Dad’s exit catches Joseph’s attention. “Have I taken your spot?”

Everyone’s casual talk fades to nothing, waiting for my response as if I am the queen of this particular chair, about to givean official ruling. “Hi everybody!” I deflect, forcing a small wave. “Sorry for being a few minutes behind.”

“You’re always late,” Sarai states. This garners more snickers than I care to hear.

Joseph is already up and improvising. “I can lean against the wall.”

“Don’t be silly, Joe,” Mom chastises. “Alex is getting you a chair.”

Daya follows Dad out of the room, saying something about the stools being the wrong height and needing one from the other dining table instead.

Tyler’s girlfriend isn’t even here, and she lives with her. Why in the hell has Joseph Donovan made the cut? And why is it affecting me this much?

“Please sit,” Joseph insists.

“It’s fine.”

Naturally, Joseph gets up to wait beside me, neither of us wanting to sit in the coveted chair until another one is available.

“You don’t have to do this,” I whisper to him.

“Yes I do,” he whispers back.

Dad and Daya finally return with an extra chair. After much rearranging, it’s decided Joseph will squeeze between Guy and me. It’s so tight we are truly elbow to elbow.

“Lucky for you, I’m left-handed,” I tell him.

“I know,” he says.

Our dinner begins with each of us getting up to fill our plates. The spread is classic Dad, his grandmother’s spaghetti recipe, baskets full of freshly baked rolls, and several different salads. We haven’t had one of these family dinners since Sarai’s birthday. It’s such a comfort, even in the chaos of this production. To smell the garlic and tomatoes. To hear the Steely Dan spinning on hisrecord player. To see everyone in one place. Dad’s two ex-wives. All of my siblings. Everyone’s new spouses.

And Joseph Donovan.

Dad kicks off the meal with a secular prayer for the continued health of our whole family. Listening to his speech, it’s impossible to think that this almost disappeared. That we almost lost him.

It’s so overwhelmingly sad I push the thought away and dive into my food, hoping there comes a time when I don’t tumble toward despair during every visit with my father.

It doesn’t take long for the group conversation to move towardHorizons.Mom and Melanie start shooting their scenes together this week.

“You two are playing lovers, right?” Daya asks, pointing at the two of them.

“Right,” Melanie says. “So Kitty’s the mother, and she’s got Parkinson’s. I’m the nice lady down the hall who’s been coming over to keep her company when her daughter isn’t home.” She wiggles her eyebrows at Mom, who shimmies her shoulders back.

They each have a new husband in the room, so it’s hilarious how Dad is the one most uncomfortable with all of this, practically itching as Mom and Melanie fake flirt across the table. They love it, of course, amping it up to piss him off. Melanie has on a long blue shawl, which she lets slip off her shoulder just so, revealing the matching tank top she wears underneath. She’s done boxing and Pilates for decades, in such good shape I’m positive she could lift up this table and bench it if she wanted. Her hair is up in a colorful protective wrap that accentuates her neck.