Excerpt from Magic in the Snow, a young adult novel by Francesca M.E. 

Chapter 6 – Family Life

We can believe one thing, but reality can be a lot different.

With great anticipation and anxiety, Marty sifted through the magic trick set his grandparents had bought him. He chose a few tricks he thought would wow his parents, mostly his father. As he practiced the tricks in front of the mirror, he could hear the distant sounds of seagulls, most likely clamoring for food. He thought about how he lived only a few blocks from the ocean and didn’t go to the beach as much as he liked because his mother wouldn’t let him go alone or with his friends yet, and she wasn’t a fan of the sun and surf. She almost drowned as a child on a summer vacation there and worried constantly about her only child.

Growing up in Cape May, New Jersey, the quaint, seaside town known for its historic, Victorian homes (some rumored to be haunted) offered Marty and other kids plenty of things to do in the summer, but in the drab winters, when the swarms of summer visitors snuggled in their own homes somewhere else, it got a bit boring for a kid. Since Marty wasn’t much of the athletic-type involved in sports, like Jack, he now spent his time outside of school learning magic tricks.

“Come on! You know this trick!” Marty said out loud trying to perform the trick as the instructions showed.

He tried it repeatedly until he was satisfied with it. “Now Dad’s gonna see how good I am,” he mumbled to himself.

On his dresser was a picture of his mother as a girl living in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Marty gazed at it, remembering the story his mom had told him about how she got to become a permanent resident of Cape May. During a weekend trip the summer she graduated college, she had met Marty’s father, Troy and they fell in love. When Marty asked her why she moved from Philadelphia, she replied, “The heart makes you move before your feet can follow.”

Marty had always sensed the restlessness in his mother after they would come back from their too few visits to see his grandparents in Philadelphia. No matter what time of year it was, his mother would go out to the yard and change around plant beds and re-landscape the yard that looked perfect to everyone else.

He sat on his bed looking pensively out the window. He could see a sliver of the Atlantic Ocean from their craftsman-style home on New York Avenue, two blocks in from Poverty Beach, and at certain times of the day, he could hear the surf rolling in, especially at night. It was one of those times. The crashing sound of the surf and squawking of seagulls left Marty’s attention as he thought about how something wasn’t right in the house with his parents.

On the few occasions his parents were together talking, the tension between them made the rooms feel smaller and cold, even though their home was huge. His father, Troy Fenner had a successful contracting business that specialized in Victorian architecture restoration and Marty rarely spent time with him due to his hectic work schedule. He hoped tonight was different and his father would stay home long enough after dinner to watch his magic tricks.

He heard voices downstairs and figured his father was home. Just as he was about to run down to greet him, he heard the familiar screaming match ensue and it made him cringe.

“Troy, I’m glad you could make it home tonight for dinner. Marty has a surprise for us. Nice of you to want to spend time here!” The sarcasm dripped off Heather’ tongue.

“You know I have to work, Heather! Someone has to pay the bills. You don’t work, do you?”

“How dare you? You know how hard I work here! I just don’t get paid for it! I take care of you and Marty and everything in this house! I wonder why I bothered to go to college!” Heather slammed the door as she stormed out of the house.

Marty twitched, and the anxiety heightened. He had hoped tonight’s dinner wouldn’t be another replay of the fighting, but he was wrong. As he gathered up his magic tricks to go downstairs, he paused, wondering if he should bother. He figured his mother was in her garden changing something around, thus the yard always being a work in progress. Thinking he could be a peace maker, he decided it was best to put on a brave face and pretend he didn’t hear the argument.

“Hey, Dad, nice, you’re home! I didn’t hear you come in,” Marty said, trying to be upbeat to bring a smile to his father’s gloomy face. He went to give his father a hug, but was met with his hand to stop him.

“I wouldn’t get too close if I were you. I’ve got to get cleaned up.” Troy Fenner knocked off his dirty work boots in the mud room off the back door and looked tired and angry.

 “Where’d ya work today? Still at The Mason Cottage? Marty followed him into the kitchen awaiting a response.

Troy washed his hands in the kitchen sink and got spots of dirt and grime all over the faucet and countertop, oblivious to Heather’s incessant badgering for him to use the powder room sink just down the hall. He didn’t bother to clean the mess.

“Na, that’s done. We’re building a new deck on a house near the Point. It’s a big job.”

“So, I wanted to show you and Mom some magic tricks after we eat. You’re gonna be here, right?

   “Magic, huh? When did this start?” his father replied and noticed Heather had returned.

“Dad, I’ve been learning magic for like years, right Mom?”

Heather smiled at Marty, but didn’t reply. She tended to their dinner on the stove.

“So, you into witches and spells stuff?” his father asked.

Marty shrugged, a bit put off by that comment, “No! Didn’t you ever hear of David Copperfield?”

“Isn’t he a big-time magician?”

“Yeah, well I want to be a magician like him!” Marty followed his father to the dining room table where they were going to eat.

“Oh, that kind of magic, huh?” His father replied and chuckled.

“Can’t you change out of those filthy clothes before you sit down to eat?” Heather said and shot Troy an angry look as she carried plates of food into the dining room.

Marty took a deep breath, knowing more fireworks were about to start. He tried to get the focus off it. “Yeah Dad, that kind of magic! What did you think I meant?”

“I wasn’t sure. It sounds like a plan, buddy,” his father replied ignoring Heather’ plea and sat down to eat. He always said, “sounds like a plan” when Marty told him about something he wanted to do, but it never sounded sincere to him.

Marty watched his mother and didn’t see anger; instead, he saw a heartbroken look on her face and surmised she didn’t want to fight again either. Heather went into the kitchen to get the salt and pepper and came back into the dining room, Marty noticed, a little calmer.

His mother changed the subject to lighten the mood, “Troy, remember I told you we’re having a magician perform at Marty’s birthday party?”

Marty sat at the table anxiously waiting to hear his father’s reply.

“Oh yeah, I remember that. Gonna be a great party, huh? You’re gonna be ni- ten, right?”

“Yep, and I was wonderin’…,” Marty started to say, but was fearful of his father’s response.

Heather intervened, “Marty wants to see a magic show in Atlantic City. We haven’t been on a vacation in years, so this could be like a mini vacation for a day.”

“With everything going on now, you know I can’t take any time off for that. The only time I’m takin’ off is to go fishing with the guys.” Troy put his head down and looked like he regretted saying the last part.

Marty’s smile faded quickly when he saw his mother’s breathing increase and anger emanate from her face.

“Marty, maybe you and I can go,” his mother said as she clenched her jaw and reached over to take his hand. She gave Troy an angry look.

“Yeah, we’ll see buddy, okay?” his father added.

“Okay,” Marty replied with a fake smile, feeling disappointed because his father usually never followed through with his “we’ll see” promises either.

“Lookin’ forward to your magic show, though,” his father interjected between mouthfuls.

“It’s not a show, just a few tricks I’ve been practicing,” Marty replied with a heavy heart.

“Well, whatever it is, I’m lookin’ forward to it!” his father replied as he shoveled more food into his mouth.

 

© 2017 Francesca M.E. Amico