After church we take our station wagon home. It is our second brown station wagon. It looks like a grade school science fair plateau. I sit in the back. Every Sunday mom prepares a meal and we arrive guests over and dad will sit on the front porch swing and read the paper he helped his eldest progeny deliver hours earlier.
Mom’s perm always looks like fresh ink awaiting the feathery tongue of an inquisitive quill.
“So, Mrs.Best said that she picked you and David up from the movies the other night with a certain Renae.”
I tell mom yeah. Thinking of how Elmore badgered the hell out of me when I was trying to take a leak, I’ve heard the word Renae more than I’ve heard the word Jesus this Sunday morn.
“She says that you guys were on a date.”
I try telling mom its nothing like that.
“Well, Dave and Renae used to date last year but know they’re just good friends.”
“What about you and Renae?”
Mom pauses, the station wagon always seems to stutter and snort as we drive up Western Hill, beneath the palatial penumbras of Jumers castle lodge.
“We’re just good friends. I like her a lot. She’s a sweetheart. You would like her. She’s in band.”
“Who was doing the dating?” Mom inquires as if I am being reprimanded for a sin I have yet to commit.
“What?”
We have reached the top of the hill. As we are driving past Apollo gas station I can hear my father mutter to my mom behind the driver's seat geez, Linda, just let him have friends.”
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