Free One or Two Things I Learned About Love by Dyan Sheldon Page B

person. (Is she too much or what?) I said, “I don’t think you were cleaning the toilet when they were handing out the romance gene, Nome. I think you were cleaning out those big stables in Greek mythology. You know, like Hercules.” Nomi said, “You mean Augean Stables.” I said, “Probably with a toothbrush.”
    Already put Mike on red alert for next week in case there’s another game on Thursday, but now Connor says it’s going to be Wednesday. Which means we can go to Movie Club!

    I couldn’t get to sleep for hours last night. I kept thinking of all the things that could go wrong with Dinner with the D’Angelos tonight. Like my mother makes something so spicy that everybody starts sweating and at least one person nearly chokes to death (probably Connor). Or Gus stays home just to annoy me and tells him about the time I got stuck on the roof. Or Zelda throws something at him (and possibly blinds him for life). Or my father calls him by somebody else’s name. Multitudes of things (all of which
have
happened, of course – I don’t have the imagination to make this stuff up). People always say that your family is there for you when other people aren’t. But if you ask me that’s probably because once they’ve met your family other people all run for safety. My only consolation was that Gran wouldn’t be here. Everything my dad knows about embarrassing his children he learned from her. And besides that, she thinks because she’s old she can do and say what she wants. She says it’s the advantage of age. It liberates you from having to be polite and follow the rules. And as we all know, she’s not just whistling “Dixie” here. This is a woman who knows no shame. Let’s not forget her one-woman sit-in at the bank. Anyway, when I finally did fall asleep I dreamed that I was locked out of the house in my underwear. Zelda was inside but she wouldn’t open the door because she didn’t feel like it. Woke up late and worried. Fortunately my Sidekick-of-the-Vegetable-Avenger costume (green footless tights, green skirt, green T-shirt) was all ready. Zelda made the hat (she really is very artistic) but the leaves are variegated because she doesn’t like plain green lettuce.
    Couldn’t concentrate on anything today. Just thinking about supper rolling towards me like a runaway train. (Fortunately when you’re dressed as a head of lettuce it distracts people from the fact that you can’t count, can’t bag and can’t remember the price of anything.)
    Connor arrived exactly on time with flowers and wine for my parents. They were really impressed. It’s not something they’re used to. (The only thing they ever got from any of Gus’s boyfriends was a broken mailbox.) Not only did my dad shake Connor’s hand and my mom thank him about six times, but when he gave Zelda a box of crayons you can use on fabric to make your own T-shirts and stuff, they both said, “Oh, isn’t that nice. What a terrific present.” (And not, “Are you out of your mind? It’s like giving a loaded gun to a chimp.” Which is what they would’ve said if I gave it to her.) Zelda was thrilled and begged Connor to sit next to her. (She was so well behaved you would’ve thought she was somebody else.) I was really nervous at first, naturally, but we got through the meal without one tiny scene of any kind. (There are such things as miracles!) We had pasta (no chillis) which Connor said was delicious, Zelda didn’t throw anything at anybody, Gus wasn’t there, and my father called Connor by the right name every time. Connor listened to my mom talk about socks as if all his life he’d hoped that some day he’d meet someone who knits mismatched socks out of recycled cotton. He asked my dad about the garage and told him all about his car breaking down the other day and even asked him some real questions about pistons and carburettors (which made my dad’s day, since the rest of us would only recognize a piston if it was wearing a