“Now…,” Helene says as she settles into her seat with her cup of vegetable soup and her tiny salad.
See… I should’ve ordered that.
“…tell me about yourself, Emma.”
Crap on a cracker. This is it. Oh well, it’s got to be done. I tell her I’m a junior in the engineering program, that I’m from Pontiac, a tiny town in Illinois about two hours southwest of Chicago (Go Indians!), that I’ve got one sister (I leave out the part about her being Satan’s mistress), and then I describe my parents.
“Isn’t that where the prison is?” Helene’s face morphs into a frown.
“Yep.” It’s our biggest employer. That and the discount store my parents have worked in forever.
“Well…” She sighs like she’s resigned to the fact I’m from a prison community. Someone’s got to be. Am I right? “…you’re not that far from the city. Do you get to Chicago much when you’re home?”
“Not really.” I shrug. “I don’t have a car.”
“That reminds me.” She looks at Eli. “No driving for you, mister. Doctor’s orders.”
“I know, Mom.”
I want to giggle because he said that in a very whiny voice.
“Maybe Emma could drive you around. You know, if you need to go places.” She looks at me. “Have Eli give you his keys. Just drive the car home. If he needs a ride, you can pick him up.” Her face brightens up. “Or better yet, you could stay with him.” Her expression turns serious, almost grave. “You know, since he’s still recovering. It’d be abighelp to me since I’m going to worry if he’s all alone.”
“Mom.” Eli chuckles. “Stop.”
“What?”
“Knock it off.”
“I’m not kidding, honey. I’m going to be worried sick about you.”
Eli looks over at me. He’s had his hand on my upper thigh for most of the meal. When she started in about me taking his car, he squeezed my leg, then rubbed up and down. It was so distracting I barely heard a word his mom said. “The car thing isn’t a bad idea. You could take it until I’m able to drive.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I really haven’t driven a car in a long time. I mostly rode my motorcycle.”
“Your motorcycle?” Helene squeaks. “You have a motorcycle?”
Holding up my hand to stop her. “I misspoke. Ihada scooter.” I did until my sister took it without my permission one night and wrecked it. I’d saved for two years for that thing and in one night, she totaled it, and my insurance didn’t pay out enough to replace it. The money did help me buy my books here at school though. There’s that.
“Well, aren’t you a surprise!” Helene’s smiling from ear to ear.
I suppose I am. I just hope it’s a good one.
