A Song for Julia

The twins had hot chocolate.
    Julia stifled a laugh.
    “Don’t you dare,” I said to Julia.
    That just made her laugh harder. So I said, “My parents originally named me something else. But I had it changed. Crank it is, Crank it will always be. Can I call you Alex?” I winked at Alexandra, and she giggled.
    “Tell us about yourself, um, Crank,” said Mr. Thompson.
    Oh, hell. This was awkward. Julia rescued me.
    “Crank is a very talented musician.”
    “Oh, really,” Mrs. Thompson said. “That must be … interesting.”
    The tall, hauntingly beautiful girl next to Julia said, “I’m Carrie.” She held her hand out to me, and I took it, gently. She was so thin she looked like she could break if the wind blew too hard. “I’ve heard your music. It’s intriguing.”
    Mr. Thompson said, “I hope it’s not rude for me to say, I’m curious about the … business prospects of being a professional musician. Do you play in … bars and clubs? How does that actually work?”
    We mostly worked for beer. Though that might be looking up.
    “We’re negotiating a contract for a single right now,” I said. “It’s a tough job, no question, but I’m confident.”
    Julia jumped in. “We’re actually meeting with the head of White Dog Records tomorrow. Allen Roark set up the meeting for us.”
    “I’m not familiar with him,” Mr. Thompson said. Carrie, however, looked at her sister, eyes wide. “Oh. My. God. You’re meeting with Allen Roark?”
    Julia grinned and nodded. “We’ve got a flight out to LA first thing in the morning. Not a sure thing, yet, but … we’ll see.”
    “That’s so exciting!” Carrie said.
    Mrs. Thompson leaned forward in her seat. Like a cat, getting ready to pounce. “We? What’s your involvement with this, Julia?”
    Julia froze and then looked away from her mother dismissively. “I’m managing the band. I told you that yesterday.”
    Mr. Thompson said, “Well, then. That’s an interesting … hobby. Are you sure you have time for that? Getting ready for grad school must be taking a lot of your time.”
    I felt a sinking feeling. This was not going well. Not well at all. I glanced over at the twins and the youngest sister. They hadn’t been introduced, nor had they spoken a word the entire conversation. Was this normal? May be.
    The dark haired twin, Sarah, saw me looking at her, and her eyes went wide. Then the funniest thing happened. She bared her teeth at me, like she was growling and then cocked her eyes, one open wider than the other. She was growling at me. Silently.
    I stifled a laugh, then returned the fierce grin, and she giggled.
    “Sarah, be quiet,” her mother muttered.
    Sarah’s growl instantly disappeared, and she looked back down at her hot chocolate. Her eyes darted back up at me a moment later, so I winked at her. She flashed a smile and went back to her drink.
    That kid was going to be a handful one day.
    Julia looked her father in the eye. “I know this is going to upset you, but I’m considering not going to graduate school right away.”
    Her mother muttered something, I don’t know what, and her father said, “I wish you’d reconsider. If you’re serious about the Foreign Service, you need to get your graduate degree.”
    “I’m not sure about the Foreign Service, Dad.”
    The table was silent for just a second and then Alexandra said, “I’m hungry. When’s dinner going to be here?”
    “Remember your manners, young lady,” Mrs. Thompson said.
    Mr. Thompson was staring at Julia as if she’d grown an extra head. “I don’t understand,” he said. “You’ve always wanted to go into the Foreign Service.”
    Julia looked directly at her father. “I don’t know where you get that idea. I’ve never, not once, ever, expressed any desire to do that.”
    “Don’t be silly,” her mother said. “That was always the plan.”
    Julia cocked an eyebrow. “Whose plan?”
    “So what do you intend to do?” her father asked.
    “Honestly, I’ve been very busy lately trying to figure that out.”
    “So you’ve not made up your mind.”
    Julia shook her head.
    “What about Wednesday?” her mother asked.
    “What’s Wednesday?” Julia asked.
    Mr. Thompson looked a bit uncomfortable. He started to speak, but at that moment the servers came in the room, and he stopped.
    Quickly, the restaurant staff laid out a huge meal. It was a Thanksgiving meal, I guess, but nothing like I’d ever had in my life. The turkey was sliced