with ornate buttons , complete , of course , with earrings and her pearl necklace . She handed me a steaming cup of coffee when she walked in , j ust the way I liked it : lots of cream, two Splenda s .
“Thank you,” I said and gave her a hug while I inhaled the wonderful aroma of the coffee.
“So when is your appointment to interview Senator Daniels?” asked my dad over his coffee as I sat down to my plate of steaming waffles and crispy bacon. It was nice to b e spoiled with coffee put in my hand and food on the table. I could get used to this — there had to be some great guy out there wa nting to cater to me . Was that really asking too much? I n otic ed my dad w as still in his bathrobe, so I didn’t feel so bad for being in pajamas , though I was surprised my mother let that slide. She must be loosening up.
“Sometime this afternoon,” I replied and took a swig of coffee. The first sip of coffee always tasted so good ; I knew it was purely psychological , but I swore I felt it coursing through my veins , waking me up bit by bit. I poured syrup on my waffles and dug in with my fork. My taste buds were in ecstasy. So good! I had become so used to the frozen stuff that I forgot how much better homemade ones were. I didn’t ever cook. In fact, I w asn’t even sure the stove in my condominium even worked and I was pretty sure I didn’t own a waffle maker . I was a microwave girl. It wasn’t worth the trouble for me to cook, but I was more than willing to eat someone else’s efforts .
“His assistant, who by the way is Tobey Stone, you remember Chris Stone , don’t you,” I s aid looking at my parents. “He was, well still is, the younger brother of Chris Stone. The tall dorky guy who use d to hang out with Brian sometimes. He said to call this morning between nine and ten to confirm a time. Except for that, I have my morning free. So, I was thinking about going into town to see Katy. I would love to see her new salon and the look on her face when she sees me.”
Katy, my best friend from high school, owned the town’s most upscale beauty salon. To be more accurate, it would be the town’s only beauty salon, u nless you counted Bob’s Barber Shop , which wasn’t technically a beauty salon. I knew it was the best , even by Chicago standards. Kay and I both attended cosmetology school via the vocational program in high school. Katy did it because she loved it ; I did it because Katy was doing it and because it got me out of two class periods in school. Si nce it had been a while, I was looking forward to surprising Katy .
“Katy does a great job, Presley,” my mother spoke up. She was now standing at the waffle maker, waiting for the remaining waffle to finish cooking. “You should see what she did with Gertrude Mayweather. She looks ten years younger.”
“Then she looks seventy instead of eighty. Is that really an improvement , Sue?” my dad teased.
“It’s important to women,” she replied, and gave him a dirty look. “It might be something you should take note of,” she continued, frostily.
At this, I rolled my eyes. To an outsider, it might look as if he had made her mad, but I knew this was a game to them. My parents found it amusing to pretend - argue. I thought it strange . A hobby or something would make more sens e, but after all these years, I was used to it.
“Have you guys talked to Jesse lately?”
“He’s like you. Doesn’t call like he should,” my mother replied.
“He called last week, Wednesday I think it was, to let us know that he was going on a few interviews, or auditi ons, whatever they call it,” my dad said.
“That’s what he said last time I talked to him. Does he really think he’s going to make it as an actor?”
“Who knows with him , Presley. But at least he goes for what he wants. Even if tha t changes every few months,” my dad replied.
“He just needs to get some direction , but you can’t rush that. Better he try out some different
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia