One day, Viserys will ask Mother why she stops smiling when Father’s Mustang screeches into the driveway. But not yet. He never remembers. It’s always too exciting when Father comes home for him to remember.
When Father comes home everyone does the same thing every time, like the ballets Mother watches on TV. Mother turns off the radio and looks in the hallway mirror with a serious face, smoothing her hair and unbuttoning her sweater a little. Once Viserys asked if his hair needed smoothing too, but Mother said that Father liked him just as he was. Viserys loves knowing he is Father’s favorite.
After this Father comes in the door and Viserys looks at his face to see if the purple eyes look angry or happy. Viserys was the stupidest kid when he was younger. He’d run up to Father and grab his leg even when Father was in a bad mood. But now Viserys knows much better.
Usually they are happy now, and Viserys runs to him. Sometimes Father will pick him up, though Viserys is getting too heavy and so his legs swing and dangle in the air.
“Look at this big, big dragon,” Father always says as he sits down on one of the black leather couches, balancing Viserys on his knee. “Soon we won’t be able to fit him in here anymore. We’ll have to build a castle to put him in. Isn’t that right, Rhaella?”
It’s funny, because Mother’s name is so pretty Viserys named three of his stuffed animals after her when he was younger. But Father makes it sound different. Maybe not ugly. Just different, somehow. It’s the only part of this time that Viserys doesn’t like. He doesn’t want to hear it.
“Yes, of course,” Mother says always, sitting next to them on the couch. “We’ll need a whole castle just for our grown-up dragon.”
