Good Graces - Lesley Kagen [52]
Because I’m walking with my head turned back to my sister to make sure she doesn’t run off, I don’t even notice that we’ve made it to the front of our house until I bump into the back of Dave.
Mother flips up the baby’s buggy top and says to Nell, “Well, you better get a move on. It’s late.”
Nell whines, “But . . . I’m so tired . . . it’s six blocks. Could I get a ride back to the apartment? Please, Mother.”
“Absolutely not. You need the exercise. Your rear end, it’s . . .” Mother widens her arms out as far as they go. “How do you ever expect to get your figure back?”
“Helen, it’ll only take a few minutes, let me . . . ,” Dave tries to say, but before he can get the rest of it outta his mouth Mother gives him her do-you-smell-dog-poop look and that’s that.
I can’t take this anymore. “Hold on, Nell. I’ll get Lizzie on her leash and walk you back at least part a the way.”
Troo says, “I’ll go with.” Not for Nell’s sake. Or mine. She adores Peggy Sure. When she thinks you aren’t looking, she smothers her tummy in raspberries. But baby love is not all she’s got on her mind tonight. Troo’s gonna ditch me on the way back so she can go look for Molinari. Walking past their house riled up her revenge feelings.
Mother tells us, “You two’ll do no such thing.” She runs her hand across Nell’s hair like she understands how cruddy things are for her being married to outer-space-skank-loving Eddie Callahan for the rest of her life, the same way things were bad for Mother when she was married, and still is, to waitress-loving Hall Gustafson. But when Nell’s pointy chin starts trembling and she tries to put her head down on Mother’s shoulder, Mother steps out of reach and says, “Powder your nose. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, for godsakes.”
When Troo opens her mouth to point out to Mother that Nell has on flats, the phone starts bring . . . bringing from inside the house. It’s the station house calling for Dave. It always is this late at night.
Dave says sheepishly to Mother, “I’m sorry. I’ve got to get that,” and takes our front steps three at a time.
I’m right behind him, thinking to myself another reason why I need to make Troo buckle under immediately. She’s gotta be prepared for when we get old like Nell. When Mother pushes you outta her nest, you better have your wings in good working order, sister.
Chapter Fifteen
The inside of the house is quiet, except for Lizzie, who is bouncing up to my chin, looking for a biscuit. When Granny says, “Hope springs eternal,” she must have our little collie in mind.
I’m always happy to see our furniture waiting for us with open arms. It’s nicer than what we ever had before. It’s double-stuffed checkered and it matches, even the hassock in front of the davenport that Dave and me can put our feet up on when we watch TV. His sink in next to mine and look good. We got the same-shaped toes.
It still smells in here like the pigs-in-the-blanket Dave made us for supper. I never saw any father do this before. Not even Daddy. I like to watch Dave in front of the stove stirring the same way I used to like to watch Daddy shave in front of the sink or tinker with the tractor. Dave tells me he enjoys cooking and I would like to send out a special thank-you to St. Theresa the Little Flower for prayers granted. (Mother made us something yesterday called slumgoodie, which had hamburger and tomatoes and some secret ingredient that must have something to do with the slum part of its name because