The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady - Elizabeth Stuckey-French [89]
When she closed her eyes at night she imagined Buff, like in his sermon, standing in that big green field, holding out his arms, and her running toward him. He would envelop her in a hug, but it wasn’t the loving fatherly kind, it was the other kind; and when he kissed her it was like Orlando Bloom kissing Keira Knightley in Pirates of the Caribbean, not like Davis slobbering on her at the skating rink. She’d broken up with Davis by texting him, which she knew was tacky, but she didn’t care. She’d moved on, in her mind anyway, to bigger and better things. Buff just needed more exposure to her and he’d catch on to what he was missing. Her. Not Ava.
But Paula had called their house last night and asked Ava to babysit. What a joke! Ava, babysit? She couldn’t even take care of herself. It was disappointing that Buff had told Paula to call the Witherspoon house and ask for Ava, not Suzi. Her mom had answered the phone and tried to get Ava to talk to Paula, but Ava said no, she wouldn’t, and left the room. So her mother, flustered yet again by Ava’s rude behavior, just stood there holding the phone like a mutant.
“Give me the phone,” Suzi told her mother. Then she got on the phone and told Paula that Ava couldn’t babysit but that she could, even though she’d never technically babysat before, and that’s how it happened that on Friday night, instead of hobbling through the mall with her buds, she was at Buff’s house, playing Nancy Drew. Buff wasn’t there, which was a bummer, but she could at least nose around and collect information about him. Just how far would he go in his ability to surprise her? He was a married minister obsessed with Ava. What other quirks lay below his shiny surface?
And she was entertaining Angel, whom it was so easy to love. As requested, Suzi fed Angel some gluten-free noodles and meatless, sugar-free tomato sauce. And steamed carrots and broccoli all cut up. Naturally, Angel turned up her nose at the entire dinner. Suzi tasted it and pretended to love it, just to get Angel to eat more of it, but it tasted like crap. Cardboard crap. Angel ate enough, with a lot of coaxing, to earn a yogurt pop for dessert. Since she wasn’t playing soccer right now, Suzi really had to watch what she ate. But tonight was special, so Suzi had one, too.
While they sat at the kitchen table and chewed and sucked on their yogurt pops, Suzi listened for sounds coming from Rusty’s room, but heard nothing.
Paula had rolled her eyes when she mentioned that Rusty was holed up in her room, grounded all weekend. Suzi wanted to ask what for, but you couldn’t ask that sort of thing. You need to ground her until she’s twenty-one, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t say that either.
Paula and Buff had gone for a Parents’ Date Night with some other church couples, all smiles and seeming eager to be off on their own. Buff was as friendly to Suzi as usual, giving her a hug, smelling like richling cologne. They’d be back by ten thirty, Paula promised. She wore a low-cut shirt, revealing the top of her round balloon breasts. Implants! A minister’s wife! Suzi was pleased to notice that Paula had a rather large behind, even though she exercised nonstop and seemed to eat only cardboard.
After dinner she and Angel played store (Angel’s idea) and then school (Suzi’s idea) and then Angel said she wanted to watch Veggie-Tales. Suzi got her into bed around seven thirty, read her a couple of wholesome children’s books, the best one called When Jesus Comes to My House about Jesus dropping in on a little boy for a play date and the two of them building with blocks and having a snack together. Finally Suzi turned out Angel’s light, feeling competent as all get-out.
All this time, Rusty had not made a peep in her room and hadn’t come out