From where Lolly sat, it looked like Mrs. Dutchendorph was turning on the charm and working on a small display of waterworks. The policeman was explaining something to her and she was meekly nodding and agreeing with his every word. Penitent, she took her ticket. Munch remained rooted on the bench beside Lolly. He didn''t stand until the police car pulled out. His face was grim as he strode swiftly across the parking lot. Lolly had to run to keep up.


    Angrily, he swung open the door and slumped inside. He flung his seat belt on and jabbed it hard into its lock. Lolly slid into the tiny back seat and put on her seatbelt. Grandma Toady didn’t even have seatbelts in her truck. Being constrained was not Lolly’s favorite thing, but she did not have a choice. Some man on the radio, named Ralph Nader thought seatbelts should be mandatory and Mrs. Dutchendorph agreed. The ride home was a quiet one. Mrs. Dutchendorph’s silent tears did not win her any sympathy with her son. Was Munch mad, embarrassed or both? Mrs. Dutchendorph, like Munch was a bit given to theatrics. They both knew how to make a scene, Lolly just hoped they wouldn’t get into it until she was out of the car. She sat in the backseat praying.


    When they reached the trailer, Mrs. Dutchendorph, practically squealed, “Oh, Lolly your father is home.” The way she said it made Lolly wary. Munch’s dad had been a helicopter pilot in Vietnam. He had been killed in action when Munch was eight. It had been seven years ago, but Munch still missed him and so did his mom. Lolly could not even imagine what it would be like if Pa hadn’t come home. Mrs. Dutchendorph’s voice broke, into her thoughts, “You two will have to join us for Supper tomorrow night. Call me if y’all can make it.”


    In the rear view mirror Munch''s eyes met Lolly''s. Pa and Mrs. Dutchendorph had known each other for years but Mrs. Dutchendorph had never invited Pa over for Supper. There was something weird about this sudden invitation. Lolly said, “Uh, sure. I will let you know.” She got out of the VW and went inside.


    The instant entered the house, she could tell the energy in the trailer was different. She could feel it. Pa had that effect. Grandma Toady was high energy and opinionated. Pa, her eldest son, like his grandmother before him, was the exact opposite. He sat in a pool of lamp light in the recliner. A book was in his hands. He looked up at her and smiled. He closed the book, put it on the coffee table and stood. Lolly flew into his arms. His arms strong arms closed around her. Working on an offshore oil platform required strength of body and mind. His hand cupped the back of her bald head. He was the only one she ever let touch her head. The warmth of his hand, his gentleness always made her feel accepted as she was. He never seemed to want anything from her that she could not give, nor did he worry over what she lacked.


    He let go of her and held her at arm’s length. He looked directly into her eyes. In his slow soft voice he asked,“How ya doing Shortcake?”


    “Okay. It’s been kind of a long week.”


    “So I heard.”


    She asked, “How are you doing Pa?”


    “Better now that I am home. It was a long three weeks.” He smiled at her and asked, “Want to watch Samford and Son and then M*A*S*H tonight?”


    Lolly loved Samford and Son, but she honestly did not like M*A*S*H. It was about Medics in the Korean War. When she was twelve, she thought the show was about the Vietnam war. All those bloody soldiers frightened her. What if Pa was one of those soldiers? What if he was hurt or dying? Even when he was right beside her on the couch, even though she knew all that blood was fake, the war on TV felt so real, so dangerous. She thought about Munch. Had his dad died in a medic hospital?


    Pa asked, “Lolly? Did you hear me?”


    “Yes Sir.”


    He looked at her for a few silent seconds and said, “I think I’d rather watch Chico and the Man instead, how bout you?”


    “Yeah, I would like that. I love it when Scatman Crothers talks. His voice is so raspy.”


    Gently, Pa kissed her forehead and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you don’t like M*A*S*H?”


    “Because, you like and it makes you laugh. Why does a war show make you laugh?”


    “The war doesn’t make me laugh Shortcake. I appreciate the humanity of the show, the quirks of being human trapped in a bad place and yet finding the funny in the midst of it. Really all life is like that.”Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    “Oh, Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She awkwardly changed the subject, “I don’t smell anything and I don’t hear a sound was coming from the kitchen, no frying, stirring or cutting. Is Grandma Toady still at Aunt Jessie’s?”


    “You know she is.”


    “Do you want me to start something for supper?”


    “I’d like that. Honestly, I hope your grandma spends the evening with Jessie. I am just not up to her mouth tonight.” He sighed and sat back down in the recliner.


    Lolly wanted to mention Mrs. Dutchendorph’s invitation, but she thought better of it. Pa seemed beat. The last thing he needed was to be saddled to an invitation to eat mung beans and tofu. Lolly went into the kitchen. Fluff had his hind quarters splayed grooming himself. He cast a single eye in her direction and then ignored her. She said, “So you are holding a grudge are you?”


    Fluff pretended not to hear.


    What to fix for supper? Lolly’s cooking skills were not great, but Pa wouldn’t mind. She could make waffles with Peter Pan Crunchy peanut butter. She got the eggs and milk out of the refrigerator. There was all purpose flour in the pantry. On the counter was the waffle maker. The hardest part was always making the batter smooth. Lumps were her enemy and they always showed up no matter how hard she tried to stir evenly. Still, It was nice to be in the kitchen cooking for Pa. He was only home one week a month, the other three weeks he worked on an offshore oil platform not far from Morgan City, Louisiana. It took him five hours to make the drive home. For a little while she pretended that she and Pa had their own place, and Pa had a regular job. She missed him terribly when he was gone.


    When the waffles were ready she called him to the kitchen. Pa was a quiet man. He liked to listen more than he liked to talk, so she told him about Max, Mitzi, school, Grandma Toady, football, her grades, but she did not tell him about Trevor Long or being a model for Munch. These two topics made her uneasy.


    Pa asked, “So how is Munch?”


    “He’s good. Uhm, his mom asked us to Supper tomorrow night if you want to go.”


    A strange expression came over Pa’s face. It was one Lolly had never seen before. He thought for a moment and then said, “Why not?”


    “Well there is the food. I already ate over there once this week and I am not sure I can face another slab of grilled tofu.”


    Pa grinned. “That bad huh?”


    “Yes.”


    “So you don’t want to go then?”


    The way Pa asked the question made Lolly think he wanted to go. “IF you want to go, we can go.”


    “I want to go. It might get your grandma off my back, at least for this week.”


    Lolly raised her eyebrows at this. Grandma Toady wanted all her children happily married, but lasting marriages did not seem to be in the family’s skill set. She asked, “Are you wanting Grandma Toady to think this dinner is a date?”


    Pa turned a little red. "I know its not, but if your grandma thinks it is I will not have to endure her latest find in the lovelorn ladies department. God, if she tries to set me up on another blind date I don’t know what I''ll do.” He rolled his eyes.


    “Okay. I’ll call after I do the dishes.”


    With a bit more perk in his voice Pa said, “I’ll wash, you dry.”


    "Deal. " She liked it when Pa helped.


    When the dishes were done, Lolly called. Mrs. Dutchendorph answered the phone, The eagerness in her voice was unmistakable. “Please tell me you and your father are coming to Supper."


    Pa might not think it was a date, but it sounded like Mrs. Dutchendorph might have ulterior motives. Was Munch listening to this conversation? He had a tendency to eaves drop. “Uh, yes we are coming. Pa wants to know if you would like us to bring anything?”


    “No, just yourselves.”


    “Okay see you—“ before Lolly could finish her sentence Mrs. Dutchendorph asked, “What does your father like to eat? I don’t want to scare him off with mung beans.”


    Scare him off from what? This conversation was making Lolly very uncomfortable. “Well, he respects your vegetarianism, so omelets maybe.”


    “I can do that. What else?”


    Seriously! This could not be happening. “Salad, baked potato, chocolate pudding.”


    “Thank you Lolly. I think I can manage that.”


    “You’re welcome. I need to ask Munch about a project.”


    “Oh, sure. He is right here. Munch, its Lolly.”


    Lolly heard Munch say, “No duh, Mom.”


    There was the sound of the long phone cord being jerked into another room. A door closed and Munch whispered, “I think my mom is trying to snag your dad. What are we going to do about it?”


    “Nothing. It is none of our business.”


    “How can it not be our business if we are going to be right there with them tomorrow night?"


    Lolly shook her head and smiled to herself. Now, would be a good time to lighten the mood. She asked, "What’s a matter Munch, don’t you want me for a stepsister?” She hoped he would find the question funny but he didn’t.


    “Your dad better not take advantage of my mom.”


    Offended, Lolly said, “You know he wouldn’t.”


    “Right.” He hung up the phone without saying good bye.


    Lolly went into the living room. Pa looked up from his book. She could tell he wanted to ask her something, but he didn’t. Instead he said, “Let’s go for a walk around the trailer park. After driving five hours in a truck, I need to get the kinks out of my legs.” They put on sweatshirts and went outside.


    The air was crisp, with just a hint of cold. Someone was grilling steaks in the trailer park. Up above the moon shone down on them. Pa put his arm around her. He smelled of Old Spice. She was so glad he was home. Now was good. If only Now could always be this good.


    *M*A*S*H*: Mobile Army Surgical Hospital