Dinner at My Place
“I’l get it!” Mom yel ed.
I was in the kitchen, finishing dinner, freaking out and I knew Eddie was at the door. He’d left after helping me bring up the groceries, saying he had things to do. I was glad for the break. He was getting to me, wearing me down like he said he would, and I needed to regroup.
I’d done my chores and then got ready for Smithie’s so I was in my slut makeup but wearing my day outfit. I’d change into my Smithie’s uniform at the very last minute.
Mom had gone weirdly quiet, sensing my mood, but also, I thought, she was up to something. I couldn’t worry about it. I had enough worries to last a lifetime.
Mom wheeled into the door of the kitchen. She’d overtaxed herself that day and I could see the exhaustion in her face. Nonetheless, she wasn’t missing tonight, no way, no how. When I told her Eddie was coming to dinner, she’d put both her hands to her cheeks, her mouth dropped open and tears fil ed her eyes. Such was the reaction of Moms with big dreams for their daughters when hot guys with good jobs and fancy trucks came over to dinner.
I decided to wait to tel her we were going to Blanca’s tomorrow. She was already residing on cloud nine, it was too soon for a promotion to cloud ten.
“Eddie’s here,” she told me unnecessarily as I could feel his presence in the house with senses honed from months of Eddie Torture.
“Great, dinner’s ready. Everyone at the table,” I ordered abruptly.
I had planned the evening closely. We had an hour and a half to eat dinner and in that time I also had to change and get to work. It was enough time not to seem rude (or, at least, not too rude) but not enough time for true disaster to fal .
Or so I thought.
“But…” Mom said, “shouldn’t we offer him a drink?
Maybe sit and have a chat?”
I did not think so. No chats. Eddie could drink at the table while forking food in his mouth.
“No time, supper’s done and I’m about to mash the potatoes. Go, go, go!”
Mom wheeled out, defying my order and intent on being both meddling and polite, “I’m asking him what he wants to drink.”
“Just do it in a hurry,” I cal ed after her, knowing Eddie probably could hear. “We don’t want cold potatoes.” I hid in the kitchen, fiddling over the final touches. I knew this was the act of a supreme wuss, but I didn’t care. Mom came in, made Eddie an iced tea, then Mom went out.
I put food in serving dishes and started to head to the table. I’d made chicken fried steak, an enormous mound of mashed potatoes, peppered white gravy and green beans.
Mom forced me into frying al eight beef cutlets I bought, rather than just four, tel ing me Eddie was a man and men were big eaters. I’d never known anyone who could eat two huge chicken fried steaks, much less five, but who cared. I didn’t have the energy to fight her.
Maybe he could.
Maybe he would, just to be nice, and then he’d lapse into a food coma. I was focusing on the next hour and a half and hoping I’d survive it. An Eddie Food Coma would just be a bonus.
“Let’s eat,” I announced, walking into the living room and heading toward the dining table. I was balancing two bowls and a platter and nearly dropped them when Eddie looked at me.
The minute he saw me, his eyes got funny, kind of lazy, amused and assessing al at the same time. His eyelids came down just a bit, the corners of his lips turned up and his dimple came out.
“I’l go get the gravy,” Mom said and wheeled away, guiding herself with her foot.
I set the food on the table, busy, busy, busy. I was just noticing the table Mom laid was set for five, rather than three when I felt Eddie come up behind me.
“Take a seat,” I said, not turning to look at him and not caring if I seemed impolite.
I was back to my Bitch Strategy. I was counting on the fact that no one real y wanted to be around a bitch, not even Eddie.
His hands went low on my hips, I felt pressure there and he turned me around. His hands slid around me, stil low on my hips so they settled at the top of my behind and he pressed me close.
I looked up, the lazy look was stil on his face but he was smiling ful now.
I took a mental deep breath.
“Food’s gonna get cold,” I warned.
“What’s the matter now?” he asked.
I blinked.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s the matter.” He watched me and then something lit in his eyes. I didn’t know what that something was but, by the look of it, it was something that made Eddie very happy.
“You’re scared of me,” he murmured, pul ing me closer.
I blinked again and my body got stiff. “I’m not scared of you,” I lied.
The smile was there but now it, too, turned lazy and somehow… satisfied.
“Yeah, you are.”
“Am not,” I said.
“You are and you should be.”
My eyes got round.
“Why?”
“Because, you don’t give it, I’m gonna take it and you know it.”