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Quote by Shellen Lubin

“There is a tricky balance inside a culture, a community, a family— inside each one of us with our relationship with ourselves—a tricky balance between holding forgiveness and holding accountability.”

Quote by Shellen Lubin

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Shellen Lubin

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“Do you know how long I was waiting at the airport? Assuming someone in my family would come and get me? Looking at all the cars driving past, and none of them for me?” - J.J. “Uh . . . ,” Rodney said. “Did you tell anyone to pick you up at the airport?” “Of course I did!” J.J. exploded. “Do you think I would have just . . . just . . .” He trailed off, his expression changing from angry to thoughtful. “Actually, let me check one thing,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through it. “Huh,” he said after a moment. “You know, looks like that e-mail never made it out of drafts. Whoopsie.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “So hi!” He strode over to us, now smiling. “How’s it going, family?”

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“Yep. I just had a question for you. Your name is what, again?” “J.J., you know my name,” the guy said, now speaking more slowly. “You called me, remember?” “I know, I just needed to check something. If you could just tell me your name. Your full name.” I met Danny’s eye two seats down from me. He shook his head and then gave me a half shrug and eye roll combo, a series of tiny, quick gestures that I could nonetheless understand perfectly: No, I have no idea what he’s doing. But really, what did we expect? “Uh,” the guy on the other end said. “It’s Billiam. Billiam Kirby.” “Billiam!” J.J. said triumphantly, raising the phone above his head. “See? Did I tell you? Did I tell you?” Most of the guests just stared blankly back at him while my dad gave him the hand-across-the-throat gesture that in our family had always meant shut it down. “No way,” Rodney muttered, reaching for his wallet. “Dammit.” Danny sighed, tossing his napkin onto the table. “I owe him twenty-five bucks.” “He got me for fifty,” Rodney said, shaking his head.”

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