“You've known about this project for months now, Dave.” My mom whispered angrily. She thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. How could I sleep after a day like today?
“Well, I forgot. I didn't get a phone call.”
“Your phone was off.”
“You could have emailed.” My dad said defensively.
“I didn't have access to a computer. I was out. That's why you were supposed to take her.”
“What do you want me to do about it.”
“Take her tomorrow, and see if they will let a late entry slip in.”
“I'm busy tomorrow.”
My mom remained silent. Then, slowly and deliberately, asked, “Too busy to even apologize to your daughter?”
“I'll apologize.”
“It's not a real apology if you don't even try to fix your mistake,” My mother countered. I tried not to sniffle. “Fine.” she continued. “Clearly you have your priorities straight already. I'll cancel my plans tomorrow and take her to see if she can get the entry in.”
It took hours for me to fall asleep that night. I kept thinking about how things could have been different. What if Mom hadn't been busy? What if Dad had answered the phone? What if I hadn't made a stupid train at all? None of this would have happened, and my parents wouldn't be mad at each other. Really, it was all my fault. I shouldn't have entered the science fair. I should have learned to play an instrument instead. Then my parents would fight.
When I woke up, my eyes were red and I still felt tired. Dad had already left for work, and Mom was making me breakfast. I was nervous. I wanted desperately to go to the museum where they were holding the science fair. I wanted to go now. I also didn't want to bring it up at all. Maybe everyone would just forget about it and everything would go back to normal. I ate slowly, my stomach sinking with every bite. When I was almost done, my mom said, “Make sure everything is ready. We'll leave in a few minutes so that we can be there by 10. Most likely, no one will show up until 10:30, but let's be there when the first people show up.”
I dropped my spoon. “We're really going?” I practically jumped out of my seat.
My mom looked amused. “Of course we are, sweetie. I told you last night we would try. I wouldn't want to let you down.”
I ignored her emphasis on the letter “I” in her last sentence. I was too excited. We were really going. I might get to be in the science fair.
“Sasha, don't get your hopes too high. You have to remember that it is not likely that they will let you in.”
I knew. I didn't care.
When we got to the museum, the doors were open, but the building was empty. We wandered around a bit until we found a docent. She pointed us to a list of phone numbers. We called the coordinator or the fair, who told us he didn't know if I could still be in the fair. Well, that is what my mom said anyway. He might have said “no”, but my mom doesn't give up easily. We went and got my materials, just in case. I carried the poster and small train. My mom carried the platform and track. When we got back into the building, we didn't know where to put the stuff, but a judge who had arrived early noticed us and was interested. I explained the basic idea of my project to him, and he found the nearest check-in lady. She told us she would go speak with the director. A few minutes later, the director came out and spoke with my mom. I tried to listen, but my mind kept wandering. Could it work? Will I get in? Am I prepared to speak with judges? Do my eyes still look red? A few minutes later, my mom thanked the woman, who smiled at me. What did that mean? I wasn't listening!
The woman walked away, and my mom guided me back to my experiment. I was too embarrassed that I hadn't listened to the woman to ask if I got in. I waited.
“Let's take this stuff over to the display room.” My mom said casually.
Yes! YES! I was in! I made it! After we got everything set, I wanted to tell my dad the good news. We had both memorized his 1800 number, so we could call him from a pay phone for free.
“Why don't we race to see who can dial the number faster?” My mom suggested.
“Ok!” I agreed. I won easily. I'm not sure my mom tried. I don't know how much my dad understood of my excited babbling, but it didn't matter. I was in. After I was done squealing into the receiver, my mom wanted to talk. I left. I didn't want to hear what they said. I wandered around the exhibits, trying to guess well the other projects would compare to mine. When I returned to the payphone area, my mom was sitting in a chair resting her head in her hands. I approached her, and she looked up. She smiled and took my hand.
“Come on,” she said. Let's go get you ready for you big day.
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Note: I feel worse in telling this lie than Rubinkowski feels about hearing lies. I almost didn't post this at all. This scene turned out almost exactly opposite to what actually happened. It was entirely my fault that the entry was late, and my parents were more supportive than should be humanly possible. They were the ones who got me into the fair and they paid for my entry in time, gas, effort, and stress. They worked together to make sure everything ran as smoothly as possible for me. They guided me and gave me instruction for talking to judges. They picked out my outfit and carried all the heavy pieces of my project. This story makes my dad look like a bad guy, but he was the one who inspired me to enter the fair, gave me an idea for a project, helped me build the train, bought all my materials, and cheered me up when I didn't make my deadline.
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