girl in pants?”
“It is different, I’ll give you that. But it does have possibilities. That’s all I’m saying.”
Sarah was not participating in the conversation. She stared straight ahead, concentrating on the back of my mother’s seat.
The natural question was,
Why
is Sarah competing in pants? But my mother and Penny seemed to be well beyond the “why” and into the “how.” I sighed and put my research back into the folder I’d cryptically labeled: WGP, for “Winning Glynnis Powell.”
“Can we just stop back at your house for a couple minutes?” Penny asked my mother. “I’ll have her try it on for me. I might have an idea.”
Glancing in the rearview mirror and seeing how miserable Sarah looked must have made my mother rethink her stand.
She rallied with: “It’s not that big a deal, really. Maybe Sarah will start a new trend.”
At this, Penny laughed heartily, but Sarah didn’t even look up. As the car slowed up in our driveway, she had one foot out the door. I had no idea what to make of this new version of Sarah. I was startled to realize that a part of me longed for the old mess-with-me-and-I’ll-rearrange-your-body-parts version.
After we’d entered the house, Penny sent Sarah and the box down the hall before turning to my mother.
“Julia, I’m going to need a measuring tape.”
My mother went over to the kitchen counter and flipped open the lid of her toolbox. She tossed Penny a metal container.
Penny stood there, yanking on the tab. “It’s for a body, not a piece of lumber, girl. Haven’t you got a sewing kit? I need straight pins, too.”
My mother replied by raising one eyebrow and giving Penny an ultimatum: “It’s that or a yardstick. As for pins, I’ve got a couple of safety pins in the junk drawer.” She grabbed two cereal boxes from the cupboard and smacked them onto the table. As I watched her pull milk from the refrigerator, spoons from the drawer, and bowls from the drainer by the sink, I got the sinking feeling this would be dinner. I was about to remind her that I preferred soy milk, but my mother plunked down in her chair as if this was the last move she would make for a while.
Penny was still waiting.
“I have a measuring tape on my bedpost and a travel sewing kit in my top desk drawer,” I said, trying to move things along. I was about to request politely that she remove her shoes before entering my bedroom, but Penny anticipated my comment with: “Don’t worry, I’ll take off the shoes, Franklin.”
Before she left the room, Penny stopped behind my mother’s chair and tried to knead her shoulders.
“It’s just my opinion, but I think you should lighten up, Julia.”
My mother leaned to one side so that she could look Penny in the eye. “You do.”
“She’s just a kid.”
“She should have told me sooner. It might have been serious.”
“But she didn’t. It was a mistake. You’re her hero, Julia. Be a hero and forgive her.”
My mother responded to this by pouring milk into her cereal bowl. She always put the milk in first. It was her invention for keeping the cereal dry. Finally, Penny left and there we were, across the kitchen table from each other and separated by a box of Bran Buds and her glowing neon container of Lucky Charms.
“Is anyone ever going to tell me what’s going on around here?” I asked her. “Or do I have to keep tuning into the mystery that has become my life to find out episode by episode? Since when do they let girls compete in pants?”
Two spoonfuls of cereal went into my mother’s mouth in quick succession.
“I am, after all, part of the team. I go to her practices, I help her with homework, I…I worry about her, too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, Mother. Seriously.”
My mother pushed the mass of half-chewed cereal to one side of her mouth so that she could make herself understood.
“She was burned, Franklin. On her leg. And she didn’t want anybody to know about it.”
“Burned? As
“It is different, I’ll give you that. But it does have possibilities. That’s all I’m saying.”
Sarah was not participating in the conversation. She stared straight ahead, concentrating on the back of my mother’s seat.
The natural question was,
Why
is Sarah competing in pants? But my mother and Penny seemed to be well beyond the “why” and into the “how.” I sighed and put my research back into the folder I’d cryptically labeled: WGP, for “Winning Glynnis Powell.”
“Can we just stop back at your house for a couple minutes?” Penny asked my mother. “I’ll have her try it on for me. I might have an idea.”
Glancing in the rearview mirror and seeing how miserable Sarah looked must have made my mother rethink her stand.
She rallied with: “It’s not that big a deal, really. Maybe Sarah will start a new trend.”
At this, Penny laughed heartily, but Sarah didn’t even look up. As the car slowed up in our driveway, she had one foot out the door. I had no idea what to make of this new version of Sarah. I was startled to realize that a part of me longed for the old mess-with-me-and-I’ll-rearrange-your-body-parts version.
After we’d entered the house, Penny sent Sarah and the box down the hall before turning to my mother.
“Julia, I’m going to need a measuring tape.”
My mother went over to the kitchen counter and flipped open the lid of her toolbox. She tossed Penny a metal container.
Penny stood there, yanking on the tab. “It’s for a body, not a piece of lumber, girl. Haven’t you got a sewing kit? I need straight pins, too.”
My mother replied by raising one eyebrow and giving Penny an ultimatum: “It’s that or a yardstick. As for pins, I’ve got a couple of safety pins in the junk drawer.” She grabbed two cereal boxes from the cupboard and smacked them onto the table. As I watched her pull milk from the refrigerator, spoons from the drawer, and bowls from the drainer by the sink, I got the sinking feeling this would be dinner. I was about to remind her that I preferred soy milk, but my mother plunked down in her chair as if this was the last move she would make for a while.
Penny was still waiting.
“I have a measuring tape on my bedpost and a travel sewing kit in my top desk drawer,” I said, trying to move things along. I was about to request politely that she remove her shoes before entering my bedroom, but Penny anticipated my comment with: “Don’t worry, I’ll take off the shoes, Franklin.”
Before she left the room, Penny stopped behind my mother’s chair and tried to knead her shoulders.
“It’s just my opinion, but I think you should lighten up, Julia.”
My mother leaned to one side so that she could look Penny in the eye. “You do.”
“She’s just a kid.”
“She should have told me sooner. It might have been serious.”
“But she didn’t. It was a mistake. You’re her hero, Julia. Be a hero and forgive her.”
My mother responded to this by pouring milk into her cereal bowl. She always put the milk in first. It was her invention for keeping the cereal dry. Finally, Penny left and there we were, across the kitchen table from each other and separated by a box of Bran Buds and her glowing neon container of Lucky Charms.
“Is anyone ever going to tell me what’s going on around here?” I asked her. “Or do I have to keep tuning into the mystery that has become my life to find out episode by episode? Since when do they let girls compete in pants?”
Two spoonfuls of cereal went into my mother’s mouth in quick succession.
“I am, after all, part of the team. I go to her practices, I help her with homework, I…I worry about her, too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, Mother. Seriously.”
My mother pushed the mass of half-chewed cereal to one side of her mouth so that she could make herself understood.
“She was burned, Franklin. On her leg. And she didn’t want anybody to know about it.”
“Burned? As
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