think about how Rosie is the closest thing tohaving a sister, but it’s not the same as being in the same house.
We both talk about a lot of stuff—growing up, what we like.
I like hearing that he’s got a family that gets along so well. I hope that this one doesn’t move to Minnesota too.
I really wish I weren’t an only child. If there were another kid, we could share the responsibility of our parents.
By the time Dave and I eat our way to the fortune cookies, I’m talking to him about the thing that’s bothering me the most. “Dave, you know I have to be in New York a lot of weekends . . . and over some vacations . . . and part of the summer.”
He nods and frowns. “I know. I almost didn’t ask you out because of that. I went through it with Cindy. But I like you a lot, so I guess we’ll have to live with it.”
“I like you a lot too. Darn parents. Why do they have to screw things up and then the kids have to do so much of the work?”
“But if they hadn’t split up, then you would just have been one of the summer people I never would have met,” he says, picking up his fortune cookie and breaking it open.
“What’s your fortune?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
He reads, “Boy who dates girl riding the Divorce Express will find happiness weekdays.”
I grab the cookie.
It really says, “You will meet a tall dark stranger.”
I open my cookie and read, “Girl who rides Divorce Express will look forward to Mondays.”
He glances at my real fortune. “You will have many children.”
I blush when he reads that but say, “I promise if I do to warn them about the eagles.”
After he pays the check, we go back to the car and ride to Woodstock.
Trying to window-shop, we realize that it’s too cold.
I hear music coming from the Joyous Lake, but we’re too young to go there. It’s a drag not to have places to go.
I wonder if my father’s gone there but don’t want to think about it.
When we get back to the house, my father’s car is gone.
Dave comes in for a while.
We put on some music, pull up some cushions to sit on, and look out at the reservoir.
The full moon makes the whole area light up. It’s beautiful.
Dave’s a good kisser, a really good one.
I put my head on his shoulder.
He kisses my hair.
I turn and we kiss again.
I can hear a car pull up in the driveway. “My dad’s home.”
Dave stands up, grabs my hand, and pulls me up.
My father makes a lot of noise opening the door, more than usual.
“Hi, Dad.” I realize that Dave and I are still holding hands.
“Hello, Mr. Brooks.” Dave brushes his hair back into place.
My father runs his hand over his bald spot.
Men must have a real thing about hair, sort of like the story about Samson and Delilah.
My father looks at us and smiles. “How about some tea or hot chocolate?”
Dave and I follow him down into the kitchen.
It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but soon the three of us are having a good time.
Dad and I tell Dave the saga of Rocky and her babies.
He tells us about the time mice got into the kitchen, and his mother refused to cook another meal until traps were set. Then none of them could stand the sound of the traps snapping, so they put out poison. Gross.
Finally Dave looks at his watch. “I’ve got to go. My parents said the car had to be back by one o’clock or I can’t borrow it again.”
We all walk up the steps to the living room. I’m afraid my father’s not going to give me a chance to be alone with Dave, but as we get to the door he says, “Good-bye, Boy Scout. See you soon.”
I walk out to the car with Dave.
“I’ve got a feeling that your father came back to check on us.” He gives me a kiss.
“He did.” I kiss him back. “And if I’m not back in the house in a few minutes, he’ll start blinking the porch light off and on.”
One last kiss and I go back inside.
My father’s sitting in a chair, pretending to read.
I go over to him. “Did you
We both talk about a lot of stuff—growing up, what we like.
I like hearing that he’s got a family that gets along so well. I hope that this one doesn’t move to Minnesota too.
I really wish I weren’t an only child. If there were another kid, we could share the responsibility of our parents.
By the time Dave and I eat our way to the fortune cookies, I’m talking to him about the thing that’s bothering me the most. “Dave, you know I have to be in New York a lot of weekends . . . and over some vacations . . . and part of the summer.”
He nods and frowns. “I know. I almost didn’t ask you out because of that. I went through it with Cindy. But I like you a lot, so I guess we’ll have to live with it.”
“I like you a lot too. Darn parents. Why do they have to screw things up and then the kids have to do so much of the work?”
“But if they hadn’t split up, then you would just have been one of the summer people I never would have met,” he says, picking up his fortune cookie and breaking it open.
“What’s your fortune?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
He reads, “Boy who dates girl riding the Divorce Express will find happiness weekdays.”
I grab the cookie.
It really says, “You will meet a tall dark stranger.”
I open my cookie and read, “Girl who rides Divorce Express will look forward to Mondays.”
He glances at my real fortune. “You will have many children.”
I blush when he reads that but say, “I promise if I do to warn them about the eagles.”
After he pays the check, we go back to the car and ride to Woodstock.
Trying to window-shop, we realize that it’s too cold.
I hear music coming from the Joyous Lake, but we’re too young to go there. It’s a drag not to have places to go.
I wonder if my father’s gone there but don’t want to think about it.
When we get back to the house, my father’s car is gone.
Dave comes in for a while.
We put on some music, pull up some cushions to sit on, and look out at the reservoir.
The full moon makes the whole area light up. It’s beautiful.
Dave’s a good kisser, a really good one.
I put my head on his shoulder.
He kisses my hair.
I turn and we kiss again.
I can hear a car pull up in the driveway. “My dad’s home.”
Dave stands up, grabs my hand, and pulls me up.
My father makes a lot of noise opening the door, more than usual.
“Hi, Dad.” I realize that Dave and I are still holding hands.
“Hello, Mr. Brooks.” Dave brushes his hair back into place.
My father runs his hand over his bald spot.
Men must have a real thing about hair, sort of like the story about Samson and Delilah.
My father looks at us and smiles. “How about some tea or hot chocolate?”
Dave and I follow him down into the kitchen.
It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but soon the three of us are having a good time.
Dad and I tell Dave the saga of Rocky and her babies.
He tells us about the time mice got into the kitchen, and his mother refused to cook another meal until traps were set. Then none of them could stand the sound of the traps snapping, so they put out poison. Gross.
Finally Dave looks at his watch. “I’ve got to go. My parents said the car had to be back by one o’clock or I can’t borrow it again.”
We all walk up the steps to the living room. I’m afraid my father’s not going to give me a chance to be alone with Dave, but as we get to the door he says, “Good-bye, Boy Scout. See you soon.”
I walk out to the car with Dave.
“I’ve got a feeling that your father came back to check on us.” He gives me a kiss.
“He did.” I kiss him back. “And if I’m not back in the house in a few minutes, he’ll start blinking the porch light off and on.”
One last kiss and I go back inside.
My father’s sitting in a chair, pretending to read.
I go over to him. “Did you
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