all-American boy. “Uh, excuse me, ma’am. But I think there’s a table just over
there.” Gotta give the kid credit. At least he’s polite.
“Oh, don’t mind us,” Linda says, pushing her way into the other seat next to Trish’s date. I’m sure we make quite the picture
with the two young girls pressed against the inside of the booth, Linda and me sort of hanging over the edge of the seats,
and the two clueless guys squeezed between us and our daughters.
“Doesn’t that pizza look good?” I ask Linda.
She grins and nods and reaches for a slice. “Mmm, tastes good, too.”
“Mom,” Trish says, leaning around her date. “What are you two doing?”
“What do you mean?” Linda asks. “Oh, you mean coming here after midnight on a school night? Funny. We were just wondering
the same thing about you two.”
Ari is used to our mother/daughter back and forth, so she knows better than to start anything. But I can’t help myself. “Ari,
honey. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“No.”
The young man gives her a puzzled look and reaches out his hand to me. “Clyde Frederickson.”
I shake his hand. “Clyde. You seem like a really nice guy. And I notice you’re not drinking beer like your friend there.”
I point to the mug in front of Trish’s date. Trish and her guy both blush.
“Never touch the stuff,” Clyde says. “Dad’s a pastor. He’d kill me.”
“See?” I say, looking around him to my daughter, whose face shows no contrition. “I knew he was a good guy.”
“Yeah, Mom. He’s a regular Billy Graham. Now can we just go?”
“Go? But I haven’t finished my pizza yet,” Linda jumps on the bandwagon. She glances at Trish. “And you know how cranky I
get when I don’t get to finish my pizza.”
“All right. Enough.” Ari slaps her hand flat on the table. “I get it, okay? I’m grounded for the rest of my life.” She turns
to Clyde. “I lied. I’m sixteen—”
“And a half, honey.” Sometimes I just can’t help it.
“Yeah, right,” she mutters. “And a half.”
Clyde gives her a little frown. “Oh, wow. You lied to me.”
“Very astute,” I say, just because I’m in an acerbic-remark mood. I suppose it’s not his fault Ari lied to him. “How old are
you, Clyde?”
“Eighteen.”
In theory, he’s not too old for my Ari, but she’s just a junior in high school. And with senior year still ahead of her, I’m
not prepared for her to date college boys.
“Let’s just go, Mom. All right?” Ari says through clenched teeth.
I glance at Linda to see if she thinks Trish has had enough. She winks and nods.
“All right, then.” I slide out of the booth and lean one hand on the table while I plant the other on my hip. “Slide out of
there, will you, Clyde? It’s past my daughter’s bedtime.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He steps back and doesn’t look at Ari as she scoots out. Linda follows suit.
“Sorry for lying to you, Clyde,” Ari says, and to be honest, I’m a little proud of the way she handles the whole thing. “You’re
a nice guy and didn’t deserve this.” She waves toward me.
“Are you kidding me?” Indignation shoots through me. “I’m the ‘this’ he doesn’t deserve? How about he doesn’t deserve to be
lied to by a little girl playing grown-up?” I’m so mad I can hardly stand to look at her. “Get your behind out to the van.”
Darcy’s mouth is wide with shock when I get to their porch fifteen minutes later. I have, of course, called ahead to let Rick
know that I am bringing our wayward daughter back to his house.
“I just can’t believe you snuck out.” There’s a tremor in Darcy’s voice like she’s taking it personally. As though
she’s
the one who’s been betrayed.
“Sorry, Darce.” Ari slips past her stepmother and it occurs to me that this little apology is more than I’ve gotten.
Rick is standing beside Darcy wearing blue pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. His face is red and
there.” Gotta give the kid credit. At least he’s polite.
“Oh, don’t mind us,” Linda says, pushing her way into the other seat next to Trish’s date. I’m sure we make quite the picture
with the two young girls pressed against the inside of the booth, Linda and me sort of hanging over the edge of the seats,
and the two clueless guys squeezed between us and our daughters.
“Doesn’t that pizza look good?” I ask Linda.
She grins and nods and reaches for a slice. “Mmm, tastes good, too.”
“Mom,” Trish says, leaning around her date. “What are you two doing?”
“What do you mean?” Linda asks. “Oh, you mean coming here after midnight on a school night? Funny. We were just wondering
the same thing about you two.”
Ari is used to our mother/daughter back and forth, so she knows better than to start anything. But I can’t help myself. “Ari,
honey. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“No.”
The young man gives her a puzzled look and reaches out his hand to me. “Clyde Frederickson.”
I shake his hand. “Clyde. You seem like a really nice guy. And I notice you’re not drinking beer like your friend there.”
I point to the mug in front of Trish’s date. Trish and her guy both blush.
“Never touch the stuff,” Clyde says. “Dad’s a pastor. He’d kill me.”
“See?” I say, looking around him to my daughter, whose face shows no contrition. “I knew he was a good guy.”
“Yeah, Mom. He’s a regular Billy Graham. Now can we just go?”
“Go? But I haven’t finished my pizza yet,” Linda jumps on the bandwagon. She glances at Trish. “And you know how cranky I
get when I don’t get to finish my pizza.”
“All right. Enough.” Ari slaps her hand flat on the table. “I get it, okay? I’m grounded for the rest of my life.” She turns
to Clyde. “I lied. I’m sixteen—”
“And a half, honey.” Sometimes I just can’t help it.
“Yeah, right,” she mutters. “And a half.”
Clyde gives her a little frown. “Oh, wow. You lied to me.”
“Very astute,” I say, just because I’m in an acerbic-remark mood. I suppose it’s not his fault Ari lied to him. “How old are
you, Clyde?”
“Eighteen.”
In theory, he’s not too old for my Ari, but she’s just a junior in high school. And with senior year still ahead of her, I’m
not prepared for her to date college boys.
“Let’s just go, Mom. All right?” Ari says through clenched teeth.
I glance at Linda to see if she thinks Trish has had enough. She winks and nods.
“All right, then.” I slide out of the booth and lean one hand on the table while I plant the other on my hip. “Slide out of
there, will you, Clyde? It’s past my daughter’s bedtime.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He steps back and doesn’t look at Ari as she scoots out. Linda follows suit.
“Sorry for lying to you, Clyde,” Ari says, and to be honest, I’m a little proud of the way she handles the whole thing. “You’re
a nice guy and didn’t deserve this.” She waves toward me.
“Are you kidding me?” Indignation shoots through me. “I’m the ‘this’ he doesn’t deserve? How about he doesn’t deserve to be
lied to by a little girl playing grown-up?” I’m so mad I can hardly stand to look at her. “Get your behind out to the van.”
Darcy’s mouth is wide with shock when I get to their porch fifteen minutes later. I have, of course, called ahead to let Rick
know that I am bringing our wayward daughter back to his house.
“I just can’t believe you snuck out.” There’s a tremor in Darcy’s voice like she’s taking it personally. As though
she’s
the one who’s been betrayed.
“Sorry, Darce.” Ari slips past her stepmother and it occurs to me that this little apology is more than I’ve gotten.
Rick is standing beside Darcy wearing blue pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. His face is red and
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