I was sitting at the kitchen table, making out the grocery list- a task that was taking my full attention and focus, for very few of my children, not to mention the big baby I married, like anything that hasn’t danced on TV-when the phone rang. I reached for the cordless. “Hello?”
“Hi, Diana. How are you?”
“Hey, Faith. Fine, thanks, how are you?” I cut out a coupon for Cheez Doodles.
“Good, good. Anyway, I can’t talk- I have to read with Janie- but can you send Abby home? She’s past curfew.”
“Sure. I’ll send her now. You know, I was thinking, we should round up our families and go out to eat sometime before Christmas, go to the Chart House or something.”
“Ooh,” responded Faith. “That was creepy- I mentioned the same thing to Abby this morning. I’ll call you later on in the week to work out details.”
“Great. I’ll go get Abs. ‘Bye, Faith.”
“‘Night.”
I hung up and walked towards the den, making a mental note to get Mackenzie to pick up the Power Rangers that were decorating the floor of the hallway. I was about to call to Abby, when I realized that neither she or my son would hear me- they were both fast asleep, Abby resting her head on Taylor’s shoulder, and he leaning on her.
I smiled, glad Taylor had somebody like Abby to balance him. Quite honestly, I had a feeling the label “the cute one” was getting to my son- it kept him from being completely real with new people. Taylor felt like they expected him to be a certain way, and he was afraid to disappoint- so he gave them what they wanted. Which was upsetting to yours truly, because while Taylor may be “cute”, he’s also intelligent, sensitive, and a number of other things which Abby knew about and accepted, but which other girls didn’t want to see. And no good mother wants her son to be perceived as just a pretty face.
I went the phone to call Faith and find out if Abby could stay the night.
Abby
“Childhood dreaming is a thing of the past.” ~ Unknown
I was staring at the fourth algebraic expression in a sequence of twenty-five and cursing my math teacher- hers is the only subject in school I truly deplore- when Clara climbed the stairs and, without knocking on the partly open door, walked into my room.
The cool thing about my bedroom is that it’s in the attic- or, rather, is the attic. When Janie was born, I was the only Eckran sibling willing to move to the third floor, probably because I was the only Eckran sibling living in a shoebox. Anyway, it’s easy to get privacy. Not that I do anything illegal, but I need quiet to think.
Which I had been doing a lot of- thinking, that is. Ever since my and Taylor’s close encounter two nights ago, I found it hard to concentrate on anything but. I had had another one of The Dreams the previous night, and I was substantially scattered.
Clara took a flying leap onto my bed, and the antique springs groaned. “Well, that does a lot of good for my self-esteem,” she commented.
I shut my math book. “Well, who told you to throw yourself on it from across the room?”
My sister shrugged, and proceeded to sit with her legs out in front of her and lower her torso forward until it was parallel with them. I winced. Clara wants to be a dancer, and is extremely flexible. Personally, I don’t think God intended me to bend that way.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked finally.
“Perhaps. What’re you wearing to this thing tonight?”
“What thing?”
“To dinner.”
“We’re going to dinner? Gee, thanks for telling me.”
Clara nodded. “My pleasure. To the Chart House, I think. With the Hansons.”
I snapped to attention. “No kidding.”
“Uh-huh. So what’re you wearing?”
“I dunno. A dress of some sort, I guess.”
“Wear the dark green one. It goes well with your hair.” Clara sprung off the bed and over to the stereo. After scanning the rack for a few moments, she put The Dave Matthews Band on, and grabbed my hands. “Dance with me,” she said.
I unwillingly cracked a smile. “That was just really random, Clara,” I told her, but grudgingly twirled around with my sister.
Clara giggled. “Yeah. I’m just in a happy mood..” She spun me out, and I lost my grip on her hand and proceeded to fly across the room, landing on the purple sofa Clara and Jason bought at a garage sale and had reupholstered for my last birthday.
My sister grinned at me. “Okay. So you’re getting dressy, which means I have to find something decent or go looking like a shlub.”
I sincerely doubted Clara would leave the house looking at all shlub-like- she looks a lot like Joan Osbourne, complete with tight curls and a nose ring. She works at the Gap, and is always perfectly put together. Unlike her little sister...
Reagan
“Lonliness seems to have become the great American disease.” ~ John Corry
“Hello?” I picked up the phone, twirling the cord around my finger.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“What’s up, Jenn?” I prayed it wasn’t another plea to go out with Jonathan. Jenn and I very rarely fought, but I was getting a wee bit tired of her single-mindedness.
“We’re going out for my dad’s birthday tonight, and of course David decided he had to bring Julia, so I was gonna bring Keith. But Keith has the stupid moronic flu, and so I’m like ‘Who am I gonna talk to the whole time?’ and so I think my mother is sick of hearing me complain so finally she gets this really tight voice- she’s on that no-yelling kick right now- and she goes, ‘Jennifer, why don’t you just bring Reagan?’ Which is why I called.” Jenn has a tendancy to ramble.
“Sounds cool. I’ll find out. Hold on a sec.”
I found my mother balancing precariously on the wall in the garden, clipping holly from the tree to bring inside. “Mom, can I go out with Jenn tonight? They’re eating out for her dad’s birthday.”
Mom pulled off one of her gardening gloves with her teeth and checked her watch. “Um, sure, Sweetie, I guess so, if it’s okay with Jenn’s parents.”
“They’re the ones who told her to invite me!” I called, jogging back into the house. I picked up the phone. “All systems go.”
“Cool. Um, we’ll pick you up around seven, I guess. And it’s kinda dressy.”
“Where’re we going?”
“The Chart House.”
“©Great. See ya, Jenn.”
