"So, hon, how was your day?" Joseph's mother's question wasn't given a truthful answer, as Joseph scarfed down a forkful of Pasta.

"Good," Joseph had replied, only to receive a raised brow from Mrs. Ellington, who sent a knowing smile over to her youngest child.

"Just good? Come on, there's got to be more. Like, did you learn anything new? Did you meet a girl—"

"Yes!" Joseph piped up, dropping his fork at his words. Why did he say such a thing? Now, he would have to act as though he felt real and honest feelings towards Betty Lee.

His mother reached across the dining room table, grabbing her husbands hand, as they shared a knowing smile. "Really? That's wonderful, isn't it, Pete?" Joseph's father merely grunted in response, never glancing up from his newspaper.

Just from across the table, his elder sister's snickered under their breaths, having knowing exactly who their younger brother was beginning to fall for—or so they thought.

"And what's her name, sweetheart?"

"Betty Lee." At this, Barbra clapped both hands together, smiling widely. Joseph knew Betty's mother, and his mother had been in a conjoined book club together since college.

"Oh, she and her mother are such marvelous people! I'd love for her to come over for dinner."

His stomach did a squeeze in annoyance and dishonor. "Sure, mom. Sure."

That same evening, Lark sat at the dining room table, also, although, his home was more tense than Joseph Ellington's.

His father gulped down a glass of champagne, while his mother spat insults under her breath. He knew she meant well, though.

Lark gripped onto a leg attached to the table harshly, trying his absolute best to slow his breathing. "—Cathy, how about we try having a civil supper for once in our God forsaken lives!"

Lark watched as his mother stood, smoothing out the front of her dress. "I don't have to take this—Lark, after supper, you and I will be packing our things and we'll be taking the evening train to Virginia, understand?"

Lark knew they weren't going anywhere. Almost everyday, Lark's mother made a spiteful threat to leave his father, Frank Reyes, an Italian man who'd married his mother straight out of high school. Lark knew that looking back now, his father had to have regretted his decision.

Because he knew he would.