Outcast by Susan Oloier Page B

herself for a brief moment, but she rapidly recovered. “I mean, fine.” Pause. “Nothing happened, you know?”
    Sure. Nothing happened. It was my first night in Chicago and already I felt I had learned enough.
     
    The next few days were spent in a Doug-free zone. Aunt P made it up to me by taking me to the Shedd Aquarium and the Field Museum . We ate lunch in the Loop and went to the top of the Willis Tower . It finally felt like we were on a real vacation. Aunt P and I stood side-by-side peering down onto the bustle of the city below—a metropolis in miniature.
    “So what’s the scoop with your love triangle?” Aunt P asked.
    “There’s no love and no triangle,” I said.
    P twisted her mouth in disappointment. “Well, what happened to your two boys? One was in college if I remember correctly.” She prodded me with her elbow.
    “Yeah.” I laid my chin on my arms at the concrete overlook. “He’s cute, but he’s not the one.”
    “The one?” Aunt P turned and looked pointedly at me, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds serious.”
    “It’s not,” I said, staring out at the twinkling of a city that looked strung with Christmas lights. “In fact, it’s nothing. It was over before it started.”
    “Why?”
    One word. “Grace,” I said.
    “Because she likes him, too,” Aunt P said to the city as though we’d touched on something personal for her.
    I nodded.
    “Well, find a distraction for Grace. Someone who will make her lose interest.”
    “I don’t know,” I said, focusing on the randomly-lit windows across the way, trying to forget about Jerry Searfus who had suddenly crept into my mind. “Can we go now?” I asked. “It’s getting cold.”
    I knew her advice, indulgences, and maternal tendencies were the result of feeling guilty about Porcelain Teeth, but I didn’t care.
    “Sure.”
     
    By the end of our third day, I was tired. I thought it would be the ideal ending to order room service and watch a movie. Aunt P had other ideas.
    “We’re going out.”
    “But I thought…” I motioned to the menu, the TV.
    She swallowed hard. “We’re having dinner downstairs.”
    Not room service, but still okay.
    “Doug will be joining us.”
    My momentum for the evening stalled. Porcelain Teeth again? I had hoped we had seen the last of him during this trip; I didn’t care if I ever saw him again in my life. The moment Aunt P and I shared was forgotten by her.
    “I think I’ll stay in the room,” I said.
    “You will do no such thing. Doug’s son is coming tonight. I told him all about you, and he’s anxious to meet you.”
    “I don’t want to be set up.”
    “He’s very good-looking. I think your generation would call him a hottie .”
    If that was true, I figured he had to resemble his mother.
    “He’s sixteen,” Aunt P gave me a nudge.
    It was worth a try. I wasn’t thrilled about eating with Doug again, but if his son was as hot as Aunt P let on, dinner wouldn’t be so bad.
    She urged me to wear some dress with a low-cut V-neck that she picked up at a boutique. It was so snug that I felt all my parts were on display. It was totally not me.
    “Can’t I wear my khakis and a T-shirt?” I whined.
    “Absolutely not. You want to make a good impression on Flip, don’t you?” Flip? What a name! Only Porcelain Teeth would name his son Flip.
    The dress P made me wear felt like a sleeveless sausage casing. I would definitely make an impression. My look screamed whore , slut , and hourly rates available . Great first impression!
    We met at a seafood restaurant that was a walk away. Aunt P was not the walking type. She hailed a cab to take us two doors down. It was excessive and ridiculous. It was Aunt P.
    Flip sat next to Doug. My immediate reaction was that this was not Doctor Doug’s son at all. There must have been some mistake because Aunt P clearly stated that he was hot. Flip. How to describe him without being mean? The one word that came to mind was ugly . Totally superficial.