Good Graces - Lesley Kagen [20]
When Mother smiles, I swear to Mary, the kitchen goes three shades lighter. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it, Sally, but remember what I told you the last time. The proper name for this dish is chipped beef on toast points.”
“Six a one, half dozen of another,” Granny says, throwing in under her breath, “A sow’s ear.”
Dave stays out of it, but gives me a wink when I look his way. I really would like to question him while I have him. He’s been so busy working day and night that I haven’t had the chance to ask him the number one question that’s been burning itself into my mind. I’ve been hoping what Henry told us at the drugstore was wrong. It gets awfully loud at the baseball games. He coulda misheard what Dave told his dad.
“Is it true that Greasy Al escaped from reform school?” I ask.
Dave stops buttering his bread in midair and looks over at Mother. When she nods, he says, “Girls, I have been meaning to talk to the both of you. Especially you, Sally. I don’t want you to get yourself in a tizzy over—”
“He means he doesn’t want you to be a fruitcake in the imagination department,” Troo butts in.
I’m surprised that Mother doesn’t say anything about her minding her p’s and q’s, but she doesn’t, and I know why when I look down at my sister’s plate. You can see her reflection in it. When we were busy talking about my coughing, Troo musta slipped it under the table and Lizzy chowed down.
Troo purses her lips and kisses her fingers the way French people in the movies do after they get done eating. “My compliments to the chef. Supper was magnifique.”
Mother says, “Why thank you, Troo.”
“No, no . . . merci beaucoup to you, Helen.” Mother is lapping it up. I’ve noticed that when it comes to compliments of any kind, there is no bottom to her bowl. Troo musta noticed that, too. “I’m goin’ over to the playground. See ya tomorrow . . . I mean Friday, Granny.”
Granny says back like she always does, “Not unless I see you first, you little banshee.”
So I’m left to push the SOS around on my plate while Dave and Mother talk some more about Mr. Kennedy and his wife, Jackie, who dresses so stylishly, and Granny tells us that Uncle Paulie has been keeping very odd hours, and then the three of them go into other neighborhood news until everyone is done eating except for me. (I was so thankful that Granny didn’t bring up the annulment-letter-from-the-Pope problem. She likes Dave a lot, but she is one of the main people who thinks that Mother is living in sin.)
After removing Mr. Como from the Hi-Fi and reapplying her lipstick, Mother comes back into the kitchen. “I know that you’re savoring every single bite, Sally, but you need to finish up by the time I get back from taking your grandmother home. Dave and I have plans tonight.” This means she wants to play footsie with him. “Ready?” she says, guiding Granny toward the front door so she can drive her back to her tiny bungalow.
“Sally?” Dave says, once they’re gone.
He’s got a grave look on his face. He musta noticed me and Troo feeding Lizzy the SOS under the table. After all, he is a detective. He won’t shout at me the way Mother would. Dave has only been a father for a little while so he’s still learning how to be mean. What he’ll do is clear his throat and give me a calm sermon about the nature of good and evil. Since he’s a police officer and the treasurer of the Men’s Club up at church, knowing the difference between right and wrong are the subjects dearest to his heart.
Or maybe not. In the movies, cops smack you with a rubber hose when they want you to tell the truth, which I’m sure Dave wouldn’t do, but things can happen when you least expect them. I didn’t think