The Stillness Before the Start by Jennifer Ann Shore

Author:Jennifer Ann Shore [Shore, Jennifer Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

10

The Archers are apparently well versed in the formality of the sit-down dinner and letting others serve them. The chef brings in the first course, expertly balancing three bowls between her two hands.

I inhale the rich scent of garlic and well-seasoned tomatoes. Part of me wants to just pick it up in my hands, drain it, and ask for another serving.

I watch the way Mrs. Archer uses her spoon, the one on the far right of her place setting. How she eats is almost a skill, scraping the side of the spoon lightly across the top of the soup, smoothing it along the back end of the bowl before bringing it up to her mouth.

After a few sips, she places the spoon between the bowl and one of the plates and starts to engage me in polite conversation.

She asks me about my family and school projects, and she seems to be surprisingly interested in my plans for the yearbook.

I don’t hesitate to gush over what I’ve been working on, telling her about how the entire project plays on the Throwback Thursday trend online where each spread encompasses the feel of a sort of social media scrapbook.

“I couldn’t think of a better way to encapsulate this time than by trying to be a reflection of who we are as a generation, so defined by our online presence.”

“That is certainly an interesting idea,” she compliments. “How did you come up with it?”

“Last summer, my mom made my sister and me clean out the attic, and we found a box of her and my dad’s old yearbooks. They were pretty funny, I mean, early nineties hairstyles and whatnot. But anyway, all of the pictures were so posed and the superlatives were pretty cringey. It just seemed so overdone and corny, and I wanted to figure out a way to not be like that.”

Mrs. Archer laughs. Well, it’s not exactly a laugh—more of a smile with sound.

“I, for one, am grateful my mother refused allowing me to perm my hair.”

If I were her mother, I probably would have refused it, too. Her blonde hair, even if it’s colored that way, is absolutely gorgeous. Like a sheet of pure gold.

The last time Audrey tried to straighten my hair, it was curling up again on the first side before she even finished the other.

The chef replaces our soup bowls with salads, marking the start of the second course. It’s a few pieces of shredded kale with julienned carrots, sunflower seeds, and two pieces of shrimp arranged beautifully on top. It smells divine, but I have to stop myself from swallowing it in two bites.

If the portions are this tiny, I assume we’re going to be here for three hours and at least ten courses.

Mrs. Archer expertly shifts the conversation back to Dylan, asking him how Brandon is doing with whatever charity organization his parents have him volunteering with.

With the attention off of me momentarily, I get the chance to study both Archers and the interior.

Dylan’s mother

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