She watched in the kitchen, with her trembling hands in her pockets, as Daisy put a scoop of mashed potatoes on the bottom of each shallow bowl and spooned chicken and sauce on top. “Can you grab me the slotted spoon?” she asked, and Diana handed it over. “Vernon doesn’t eat mushrooms,” she explained, straining the sauce for his portion. Diana didn’t comment as she helped Daisy carry the food to the table. When everyone was served, Diana picked up her fork. She was wondering how to proceed when Beatrice did her job for her.
“So,” she said, “what do you all think will happen with Huey Sanders?” Huey Sanders was a twenty-one-year-old pitcher who’d been signed by the Phillies for a contract worth six million dollars for his first year. A few days ago some social-media sleuth had discovered tweets and Reddit posts he’d made when he was fourteen using the n-word and calling his friends faggots. Huey had issued a version of the statement most athletes released in similar circumstances, saying that the words did not reflect the man he’d become, saying that he’d been wrong and that he was sorry. He’d asked for forgiveness and had promised to do better. So far, the Phillies hadn’t said anything about whether they intended to ignore the incident, cut him loose, or find some middle ground.
“I hope the Phillies get rid of him,” Beatrice said.
Daisy looked proud. Hal pressed his lips together. Vernon Shoemaker swung his head around to peer at his granddaughter. “Oh, really?” he said. “You want to punish a young man for stupid things he said when he was younger than you are right now?”
“Fourteen is still old enough to know what hate speech is,” Beatrice said.
“I agree,” said Jesse, and, beside him, Danny nodded his assent.
“Maybe you’re old enough to know,” said Hal, in a patronizing tone. “You’ve had the benefit of a fine education. We don’t know anything about how this young man was brought up.”
“And why should one mistake mean he loses his chance to play for the Phillies?” Vernon asked Beatrice. “More chicken, please, dear,” he said to Daisy, who’d just pulled out her chair to sit.
“I’ll get it,” said Evelyn, standing up and taking his dish.
“It’s all being blown out of proportion,” Vernon scoffed. “I mean, a few twits, or tweets, or whatever it is he did.” He picked up his water glass, his thumb leaving a smear of chicken grease on its side. “Poor kid’s not the only one to have done something stupid when he was young.” He grinned at Beatrice’s father. “I mean, if they’d had Tweeter when you were a kid, you probably would’ve never gotten into Dartmouth.”
“Dad,” Hal said sharply. But Vernon kept talking. “Remember that party in—oh, where was it, Newport? One of your friends’ families had a place. And you and your buddies went there for the weekend.” He used his knife to point at Danny. “You were there, weren’t you?”
Danny gave a nod, his pale face looking even paler. Jesse frowned and said something quietly. Danny picked up his water glass in a hand that seemed to shake.
Ignoring that byplay, Vernon turned back to the table and picked up the story. “It’s the middle of the night, and I get a call from the police, because they’d gotten a call from the neighbors, because…”
“Dad.”
“… my sons, both of them, got drunk, and decided to go skinny-dipping at two in the morning…”
“Dad.”
“… and then run naked through the neighbors’ backyard.”
Diana saw Daisy glaring at her father-in-law. She saw Jesse take his husband’s hand. She saw Hal sitting, enraged and frozen, as Vernon kept talking, oblivious to everyone’s discomfort, or maybe just enjoying the spotlight. “One of the boys had driven his car right onto the next-door neighbors’ backyard and through their screened porch, and passed out, naked as a jaybird, on the hood. The police couldn’t identify him because, obviously, he didn’t have his wallet. So they called the homeowners, who called all the boys’ parents. Including me.” He wiped his eyes and said to his son, “It’s a good thing your mother didn’t pick up the phone that night!”
Hal’s face was stony. Daisy looked desperately embarrassed. Danny gave a faint, protesting moan. “Excuse us,” said Jesse, standing up and taking Danny by the shoulder, practically hauling him out of the dining room.
“Did Dad get in trouble?” Beatrice asked. Diana could feel the tension in the room as she waited for Vernon to answer.