Lily got home that night late enough to be shocked her parents were still awake. Not just awake either, but laughing and clanging cupboard doors in the kitchen that would rival the noise level of most wars. Also, at least one TV was on. Lily walked into the kitchen to join them, feeling a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
-Lily! You’re home, that’s wonderful, said her mother.
-We’re all home, added her excited father.
Oh, thought Lily. They’re drunk. Her parents had just come back from a party at a friend’s house, but the food wasn’t very good. Aside from making them quite hungry late at night, it also exaggerated the effects of the alcohol consumed and still being consumed. Lily’s mom wanted to make soup but the dad wanted sandwiches. They ended up making both and even shared with Lily. They didn’t share the wine.
Looking across the kitchen at the TV, Lily saw a rerun of a primetime news show. The show’s host ceded the screen to a guest, presumably who agreed with the host, and started ranting about something nobody caught the beginning of. The ranter was an old white man who could have played Ebenezer Scrooge, but maybe that was just due to the permanent scowl.
-I’m not a Republican, he said. I am not a Democrat. Politics is not about parties, it’s about a state of mind. And if you maintain a consistent state of mind, you can understand any political problem. My point is that the American President, President Heidi Burke, is only responsible for Americans and should only be concerned about Americans. It doesn’t matter if General Jackson is pushing Seminoles to southern territories or if General Whoever is battling warlords in Bundai, you need to have the same goal: protecting Americans.
-Well thank you, but our time is up, interrupted the TV pundit, we’ll just have to leave it at that. Thank you again, Mr. John Quincy Adams and we hope to—
Lily’s dad turned the channel away from the news. Lily knew the name John Quincy Adams, a.k.a. JQA, a.k.a. any number of stupid nicknames Mitch created. But it was late already. She was tired. And if it was early and she wasn’t tired, she’d still have nobody to call. Seph won’t answer. Mitch is missing his phone. Blair broke hers. And Emmit is looking for Bogart and said Lily could come over to his place at eleven the next morning, but not before then.
Lily turned to her parents, unsure if they knew who the guy on TV was. They said they didn’t know. They figured it was just somebody else trying to get famous. They were right. Lily was thrown off a little bit by the sneering tone. It was then that Lily realized her parents might not know about their own daughter’s fame. How Lily was what Blair called an instant-meal entertainment hero who helped define a generation lost in a hyper nonsense world fueled by a pop junk culture. She thought about how to ask them, how to bring up the idea that she, not John Quincy Adams, was the center of news coverage just days ago.
Lily and her mom just watched her dad flip through channels. Lily wondered if this is how her normal parents normally watch TV; that maybe they didn’t see Lily’s face and name in lights. Or maybe they saw more coverage than Lily herself saw. Maybe that’s why they weren’t mentioning it.
-So what have you and your friends been up to, her mom asked.
So they didn’t know. They didn’t know anything. Or maybe they knew everything, or at least thought they knew everything. Lily was so deep in her life problems that they couldn’t ever fully know. Lily could sit in the kitchen and explain until her parents both had to go to work (a shoe store and a bank, respectively) and they still wouldn’t know. But then again, Lily didn’t know her parents’ friend who threw the party. By not telling the truth about how much they know, her parents would be lying, thought Lily. That gives me cover if they discover I’m lying.
-I’ve just been catching up with my friends.
-Oh, that’s good, said her dad.
-No, that’s great, countered her mom.
Her parents then made a case for Lily coming home more often to spend time with old friends and her family; especially her family. Maybe everybody could get lunch tomorrow? Just because family will always be family doesn’t mean it should be taken for granted. Her parents continued to try to sell Lily on the idea of family while still watching TV. The family had some great vacations when everybody was younger, they said. Austin, Dallas, Galveston; all great places. Remember learning how to drive? I can’t believe that car still works. Me neither. Of course maybe it’s time to talk about the future.
-You mean a new car, asked Lily.
Her mom stopped pressing the cryptic issue but her dad kept pressing the channel button. Lily saw her parents were getting tired and decided if she ever had to make a confession, she’d better do it now when their weariness could subdue any possible outrage. This would be especially important if her parents started talking as one unified voice. I need help with something, started Lily.
-Oh my God. You’re pregnant.
-What? No. How many times—every time—just, no.
-Sorry, it’s just you got all serious.
-How long have you guys thought that?
-Well, you’re 29 and had your first boyfriend when you were 15, so for the last 14 years.
-Come on, guys!
-One of these days—so what’s the real problem?
-It’s about money.
-How to pay for a baby—Thomas, don’t interrupt. Sorry.
Lily explained that coming home wasn’t a vacation. She had lost her job when her boss got arrested. It wouldn’t have been as immediately devastating, but she was already past some of her bill payments and frankly just flat ran out of money. And her car is in a repair shop in North Town. Her life was in the proverbial outhouse.
-You’re like the Prodigal Daughter, they said.
-What?
-The Prodigal Son is a Bible story.
-What does “prodigal” mean?
-“Returned”? I think it’s “wasteful.” Maybe. You’ve told better stories, dear. You haven’t.
-Mom. Dad. Please.
-Sorry.
-I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier.
-Well…our love is unconditional. No, it’s got conditions.
-What?
Lily’s mom explained that when Lily moves out, and she will move out again sometime, she’d need to call home three times a week. Lily’s dad took up the negotiations for his daughter. Lily needed to call home once a week. No, said her mom, twice a week. Okay, conceded her dad, how about one call and one text message a week?
-You don’t know how to text message, Lily pointed out.
-No, but we can read the messages.
-Deal.
-We’ll give you some money to get your car fixed, but you need a job.
-Deal.
Lily’s dad suggested everybody stop watching TV and go to bed as he held up the remote control, but then the TV popped, crackled and went blank. The TV broke.
-Hm, he said. I don’t know why they’d put that button on the remote control.
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