“Aside from my time at USC, never been a big fan of L.A.” Dad cut into his meat. “Too diverse. Even the neighborhood the campus is in is dangerous. Too much crime.”
“Jesus, Charles.” Mom said. “I’ve told you before, you can’t say those things.”
“The hell I can’t. This is my home.”
“Daddy, please,” Tiffany said.
My dad made comments like that sometimes, but never in front of company, mostly because it upset my mom. It was the first I’d heard Tiffany speak up against it.
Mom turned to Manning. “He doesn’t mean anything by that. I’m sure you come from a lovely home.”
Manning chewed and swallowed. “It was all right.” He glanced away as he said it. “Nothing like this.”
“This,” Dad said, gesturing around with his fork, “is the result of a lot of hard work and investment in education. Do you go to school?”
“Yes, sir. At night.”
“For?”
Manning had a mouthful of steak, so the table sat quietly as he chewed and then sipped his water. “I’m going into law enforcement.”
“A cop?”
“Yes.”
“And after that? Want to be a lawyer?”
“No. I want to help people.”
“If you want to help, go to the top,” Dad said. “Officers don’t have any clout. They just do what they’re told.”
Mom cleared her throat. “Charles—”
“What?” he asked. “What now? These kids need a dose of reality. I’m just trying to be helpful.”
I’d figured this would happen, that my dad would try to make Manning feel small. Knowing how much Manning’s future career meant to him, I opened my mouth to interject.
“Cops do help people,” Manning said before I could speak. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
Dad shrugged. “Good, then. Do that. The world needs policemen.”
“More than it needs lawyers,” Mom added.
Manning turned to me, maybe looking for an out. “Did you make the salad, too?”
I hadn’t even told him. I smiled. “Yes.”
“You should try it then,” he said, nodding at my full plate.
I’d been so wrapped up in a conversation that didn’t involve me, I’d barely touched my food. I took a bite of a fresh, crisp tomato, and juice dribbled down my chin.
“Where are you on the reading list, Lake?” Dad asked.
I dabbed my mouth with a napkin. “The last book.”
“Perfect. I’ve just ordered some more I think you’ll love, including a non-fiction about perfecting the college essay.”
“Maybe it’s time for a break,” Mom said. “Summer vacation’s almost over.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Tiffany chimed in.
“Don’t be fooled. USC looks as closely at summer vacation as they do the school year. They don’t accept slacking off.”
I’d heard the same speech every year since I’d entered middle school. Once it was clear Tiffany didn’t have a shot at USC, my parents had turned all their attention on me. “I know.”
“You want to go to USC?” Manning asked.
“University of Southern California,” Dad said.
“I’ve heard of it.” Manning was beginning to look irritated. “Private university in L.A., rival of UCLA.”
“We’re hoping to get her started in a pre-college program next year,” Mom said.
“Already?” Manning asked.
Mom nodded. “These things start early. Years before college application. And Lake wants this, so we’ll do whatever we can to get her there.”
Manning shifted his eyes to me. “Why USC?”
“It’s where I went,” Dad said.
I sensed by the fact that Manning ignored him that he was looking for an answer from me. Throughout my childhood, I remembered my dad happiest when relaying his years at USC, as if it were some kind of adult Disneyland. I hadn’t ever considered anywhere else yet. One of the best schools in the country was practically in our backyard.
“USC has all kinds of great programs,” I said.
Dad nodded, picking up his wineglass. “It’s a top-tier school.”
I smiled at Dad. I never felt closer to him than when we were on this subject. “They have a football team, a beautiful campus, and a great reputation.” I wanted to make my dad proud. To call myself a Trojan with the same pride he did. “And, yes, my dad’s an alumnus. I can’t really think of a reason not to go there.”
I looked back at Manning, and my world slowed. He wasn’t listening. He watched Tiffany push food around her plate.
“Did you ever think about USC?” Manning asked her. She didn’t even realize he was talking to her. “Tiff?”
“What?” She looked up and blinked. “Did I want to go there? Me?”
“Why not?”
“It takes hard work, dedication, and planning to get in to a top university,” Dad said. “Tiffany spent her time in school doing god knows what, but it wasn’t any of those.”
“I knew a kid who started at community college and transferred to Berkeley,” Manning said. “Tiffany could do that if she wanted.”