Free Greenmantle by Charles De Lint Page B

thought, getting ready for my first date. Except Ali was already dressed and waiting for her downstairs.
    She didn’t know why choosing what to wear seemed so important tonight. From all Ali had told her, Tony Garonne was a pretty casual fellow. And Frankie certainly wasn’t trying to wow him. But she hadn’t been out anywhere for a long time, and even if this was just dinner at a neighbor’s, it was a chance to get dressed up in something a little more becoming than the usual jeans and work shirt.
    She combed her damp hair with her fingers, twisting it into curls so that they would dry in ringlets. I should have gone over to meet him this week, she thought. Then I wouldn’t be feeling this jittery.
    But the usual one hundred and one things had come up—there was a lot that still needed doing around the house alone—and almost before she’d known it, it was late Saturday afternoon and time to get ready to go. What if he asked her what she was going to do now that she didn’t have to work eight-to-four in the government anymore?
    She didn’t know herself, but it always sounded awkward and somehow self-indulgent when she tried to explain that she was going to use the time that the Wintario money had given her to find out just what it was that she wanted to do with her life. Finding oneself had so many weird connotations in the eighties. It sounded so…Woodstock. Never mind that she was part of that whole Woodstock generation.
    She sighed. And of course that might make things awkward as well. According to Ali, he was about ten years older than her. What if he made a pass? What if they couldn’t find anything in common? What if—
    “Mom, what’re you doing?”
    She looked up to find her daughter standing in the doorway, arms akimbo. Frankie smiled ruefully, feeling like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar.
    Ali shook her head. “What’re you so nervous about? He’s just a regular guy.”
    “Who says I’m nervous?”
    “I do. Look at you. Are you going like that?”
    Frankie stood up and did a little pirouette. “What do you think?”
    “Well, you’re certainly going to make an impression.” Ali ducked as her mother grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at her. “You want me to help you pick something out?” she asked, sticking her head back in.
    “Why not?”
    Ali went to the closet and rummaged through the hangers until she came up with a dress. “How about this?”
    It was a black evening dress, mid-calf and snug in the bust, with shoestring straps. Frankie shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know…” she said.
    “C’mon. It looks great on you. You can wear that Sarah Clothes jacket of yours over top if you’re feeling modest.” She handed her mother the shift and went to the dresser looking for a slip and pantyhose. “Do you still have that rhinestone choker with the single pearl?” she asked.
    “Are you matchmaking?” Frankie asked.
    “Jeez. Get serious, mom.”
    Frankie shrugged and studied herself in the mirror. She looked good. A little dressy, perhaps, but it was fun after being such a scruff, especially these past few weeks.
    “Shoes,” she said.
    “I’ll get them. Maybe you should wear your walking shoes up, though. The road’s not exactly a sidewalk.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    It was sort of fun having someone else make the decisions, Frankie decided. She gave herself a last quick once-over in the mirror, then hurried after Ali who was impatiently waiting for her in the hall.
    “You’re looking nice yourself,” she said as she followed Ali down the stairs.
    “Yeah, well, it’s a dinner, you know? I don’t want Tony to think I can’t look like a lady when I want to.”
    “Oh, I doubt he’ll think that after tonight.”
    Ali was wearing a loose print dress that was gathered at the waist. Over her shoulders she had a pale rose shawl that matched the flowers on her dress. She looked very nice, Frankie thought, and then a motherly worry arose. Oh, I hope she’s not