Brooke lifted her head and arched an eyebrow in the girl’s direction. “You’re familiar with drummers?” Brooke asked.
“Oh yeah. I love hearing great women pound out the beat of their hearts. I’ve listened to music all my life. The women drummers never get any fame.” She emphasized that statement with a firm shaking of her head.
“So, you like women drummers, Sam?” Terri asked nonchalantly as she took a bite of her apple pie, her brown eyes darting briefly to Brooke then back to her plate.
“Yes, I do. Very much. It’s amazing to watch how much strength they have when behind a kit…I mean a drum set, yet they can still be so graceful as they play.”
“Well, maybe some women drummers don’t get any fame because they’d rather not have to deal with the hassle that comes along with it. They’d rather just play instead,” Brooke offered.
Sam turned her gaze to Brooke. “Well, let’s just say that they never get the credit they deserve. They just seem to fade into thin air. Like ghosts in the night,” the blonde held her fist up in the air and opened it as though she was releasing something into the air. “They are there for a minute and gone the next.” The young woman let her gaze go off into the distance as if she could see them all waiting to be plucked from the heavens.
Brooke was speechless at how emotionally Sam spoke on the subject.
“My, my… I see we have a little poet in our midst,” Henry commented. “Maybe some of that will rub off on our C.C. during the next year or so.” The man winked at his daughter as he brought the coffee cup to his lips.
“But you know… I have to admit that the best drummer, male or female, in my book was…”
Sam was interrupted as Henry jumped up from the table, having spilled his coffee on his shirt. “Oh, damn, excuse me. I’ll be right back.” Henry made his way out of the dining room, leaving his coffee cup and wiping the brown spot on his shirt with his napkin.
“Honey, there are some clean shirts folded on the dryer,” Mable called after her husband then turned back to her daughters. “Now, come on, one of you has to know of a nice girl for Brooke. How about you, Sam? Are you single, available or interested?”
Sam’s face turned an impossible shade of red as she realized that her own sexual preference was now being drawn into the conversation. The girl turned looking to her roommate and then back at the matriarch. At the same time, the sudden turnabout caught Brooke in mid swallow and she choked on her iced tea.
The older woman sensed the action on the periphery of the table. “What? She’s not too young for you is she, Brooke?” Mable asked her flustered child.
“Well, ah… no, Mom, it’s not that. It’s just…”
She was cut off as Mable addressed Sam again. “Do you have any experience, dear? But then again, if you don’t you can be molded just like their father. I must admit that he has quite mastered the art of curling his tongue…”
“Mom!” All four daughters yelled in unison at their mother.
“What?” she asked them innocently then turned back to the blonde, unscathed. “So, Sam, tell me, what kind of women do you like?”
Sam was saved from answering the question as Henry reappeared back into the dining room and took his place at the head of the table, wearing a clean shirt.
“Dad, can you roll your tongue?” C.C. asked her father as her sisters glared in her direction.
“Why?” he asked, clearly confused.
“Oh, nothing. Just something Mom mentioned that I was wondering about.”
“Dad, you don’t have to answer that one.” Brooke arched her eyebrow and gave her sister a look that told her to be quiet. “C.C.,” she warned through a clenched mouth.
“What?” The youngest daughter tried to defend herself. “It’s a perfectly innocent question. I was just wondering if the tongue rolling gene is an inherited trait.”
C.C. was cut off as her mother placed a hand on her arm. Mable turned to the other side of the table where her other daughters were seated. “Don’t think that I don’t know when you girls are trying to change the subject on me. Brooke, I asked you a question.”
“Yeah, Brooke,” the pediatrician glanced from Sam to their sister, “what is your type? That way we can all keep an eye open.” Terri offered.
Brooke sighed heavily as she wondered if she’d ever make it out of the house without her mother going back to this topic. She looked over at Terri and answered, “The non-nosey kind. You know, the complete opposite of C.C.”
“Hey, I’m not nosey. I just like to be in on the news. Enquiring minds want to know,” C.C. defended herself as Sam just sat back and snickered quietly over the whole situation.
“Yeah, well inquire somewhere else, Sis. This tabloid is keeping its secrets.” Brooke shot back, her eyes glaring an undisputed warning.
“Now, girls…” Henry felt it was time he tried to calm down the situation.
Brooke and C.C. both looked at their father and apologized without hesitation. “Sorry, Dad.” The phrase sounded like one that was well rehearsed over time.
Mable looked down at her eldest daughter who was sitting on Henry’s right side. “Can’t you find someone, Randi?”
“I did. I married him and gave you three grandkids.” The confident woman answered without missing a beat. Randi really wasn’t in the mood at the moment to joke around. She’d had a rough week in court and was getting tired of the petty squabbling going on between her sisters.
“I don’t think she means for you.” Terri chastised her oldest sister.
“The lights are on but nobody’s home,” C.C. teased unmercifully to which everyone, including Brooke, laughed at the comment; the only exception being Randi.
“You know, I think we’ve heard enough from you C.C.” Randi was trying to calm her temper, which was on a rather short fuse by now. It was easy for anyone who had been around her a while to know. There was the telltale sign of uncontrollable twitching at the corner of her mouth. Unfortunately, all Randi needed to see was C.C. replying by blowing kisses at her and the sparks were flying as the charge was set off.
Randi jumped up from the table almost knocking her chair over, as she started to lunge for C.C. on the other side of the table.
Hearing the noise, Brooke sprang out of her own chair to step in front of the angered woman, stopping the ensuing massacre. Their youngest sibling could be a pain in the ass but Brooke, in all honesty, adored her.
Now, Terri got up and grabbed Randi from behind to halt her from attacking her sister. “Hey, I’m here for a family dinner, not work. Besides if anyone’s gonna pound her head in, it should be Brooke.” Terri leaned out from around Randi and winked at her blue-eyed sister. “She’s got more experience there.”
“Yeah, Mom, can I borrow the table?” Brooke asked with a twinkle in her eyes as she made a motion to step up on the seat of her chair.
Calmly wiping her mouth with a napkin, C.C. looked over at Sam, shrugging her shoulders. “Welcome to the Gordon family dinner. Complete with floor show entertainment.”
The young blonde just shook her head and giggled, not ever remembering having so much fun at a family function of any sort.
“Okay, everyone sit down now.” Mable slightly raised her voice, “I said now!” The older woman’s eyes roamed the room as she paused momentarily to gaze at each of her offending children, driving her message home on an individual basis as needed.
One by one the grown women shyly turned around to look at their mother and sulked back over to their appointed seats, without a word.
“I can’t believe all of this commotion over a simple question to which I still have not received an answer.” Mable seemed insistent.
“What was that question?” C.C. asked as Brooke threw a dinner roll at her.