“I mean, I went . . .” They told her they wanted her to be honest with them, but they didn’t. Not if it was to say something they didn’t want to hear. “Late. I went late because I wanted to finish my English homework first. We picked up trash by the creek.”

“I hope you wore gloves,” her mother said.

Her parents resumed eating, order restored to their world.

The conversation shifted away from her to Annie Get Your Gun. It was a relief. And a letdown. Was that all they cared about? If she wore gloves? What about her? Her parents had no idea she loved Mark Strauss. They didn’t care.

“Grant and I are working on ‘Anything You Can Do’ tonight,” her mother said.

Her father took a sip of his milk.

“He’s terrific. Picks up the dance numbers so quickly. Knows everyone’s lines. I swear he could do a one-man show. Did you hear he nearly was on a children’s television show?”

“Yes,” her father said. He started clearing plates.

“He’s got a beautiful voice. No real training.”

“Are you finished?” her father said. Her mother handed him her plate.

“Come on, Ted. Suzanne signed it, and most of our other friends. You can’t have everything.”

“But he was the one who suggested the damn thing!” her father said.

“I like them.”

“I like her well enough, but him . . .”

“She’s pregnant,” her mother said.

“Good for her.”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet. Don’t say anything,” she told Jillian.

Jillian shook her head. Why would she? Who cared?

“They’re going to have to put an addition on the house,” her mother said.

Her father threw a fork in the sink. It landed with a clatter. “Are they going to tear it down? Is that what this is about?”

“She just wants to add a room or two.”

They were quiet as they washed up, her father probably thinking about making time stand still, her mother about the wonderfulness of Grant. I’m friends with Lindy Cox, Jillian screamed. In her head.

Her father grabbed an armful of signs from the hall closet. They were signs protesting the big houses—as if a sign would do any good. He had asked her to draw the picture like he thought she’d be excited to do it. At first she’d said no—more specifically, No chance, Dad—but he looked so sad that she agreed to, as long as he didn’t make her sign it.