Trouble is a Friend of Mine

‘I thought you quit those,’ I said.

‘For emergency only. That was an emergency,’ Mom said. ‘In fact, you want one? Just kidding. But really, that looked bad. Are you okay?’

‘He’s coming up next week … over Thanksgiving.’

‘Should I make a turkey?’

‘Well, that’d show him. But if you really want to punish him, make your hummus.’

‘This also came in the mail from him today.’ Mom took an envelope out of her sweater pocket. Inside was a stack of mall chain-store gift cards. They were worth hundreds and hundreds of dollars. ‘We should return them … it’s probably not appropriate …’

‘Or … we could spend them,’ I said. ‘Before he figures out how to cancel them.’

‘Revenge shopping? I know that game.’ Mom lit a cigarette. ‘I used to be an All-Star.’

‘I can’t.’ We were at the mall. I’d given up on finding a dress for the dance, and Mom was turning down a bite of my chili fries. ‘I watched this documentary about slaughterhouses and … I can’t.’

‘Why would you watch a documentary about slaughterhouses?’

‘For a date. Not that he made me or anything. It was showing and he wanted to see it, so I went with him. I’d feel like a hypocrite eating that.’

‘Well, he’s not here right now.’ Then I realized I had no idea if that was true since I didn’t know who the guy was. ‘Or is he?’

‘Are you saying you’re ready to meet him?’

‘Are you saying you’re ready to marry him?’

‘Why are you being so sassy?’

‘I don’t know. Why are you being so defensive?’

‘Geez, should I blame hormonal teen-angst or that boy Digby for your new verbal stylings?’ Mom said. ‘What’s going on with the two of you, anyway?’

‘Nothing. Stop asking me that. Besides, we don’t hang out as much anymore … I mean, since you told me not to.’

‘Right … because you don’t do things I tell you not to do,’ she said. ‘Anyway, you mind eating alone? I’ll meet up with you in a half hour? I threw all my makeup out. I need cruelty-free.’

‘Seriously?’

‘One day you’ll get it. It’s unbelievable what you’d do for someone you like. In fact, the more unbelievable, the more you probably like them.’ Then she thought about what that sounded like. ‘Not in a codependent “he beats me because he loves me” way, of course. Because that’s certainly not love, honey. Love never hurts –’

‘Okay, Mom! You’re going down a weird road.’

After Mom left me to buy makeup, I didn’t want to go back to the main part of the food court with the high school kids, so I sat in the kiddie area with the stroller moms. Halfway through my fries, I saw Digby dressed in his teddy-bear-in-a-tutu dancing toward me. I waved him off, but the kids around me were screaming for his character, Suzie Bear, to come over.

‘Get out of here. I don’t feel like getting into it with my mom again.’ I waved him away again. But he kept coming toward me.

‘I’m not in the mood. Go away.’ I put a little something extra behind my whispering to send him the message that I was serious. I shooed him again, but he kept coming. He mocked me, cupping a paw behind the bear’s ear.

‘Oh, you can’t hear me? Can you hear this?’ I hit him over the ear. ‘Bet you heard that.’

Suzie Bear pawed me on the shoulder. It was a shockingly hard hit, actually. Hard enough that my fork flicked fries out of the bowl because of it.

‘Ow … what the hell?’ I got up and pushed Suzie Bear away. ‘Seriously. Let’s talk when you come over later.’

But he kept coming at me and, somehow, we ended up locked in something I later found out wrestlers call a tie-up. By this point, the kids had gathered around. The future troublemakers among them chanted, ‘Fight, fight, fight.’

I floated out of my body and over the scene. I saw myself twirling around the tables with a giant teddy bear.

And then I saw Digby himself standing to the side, yelling, ‘Five bucks on Suzie Bear!’ It took me another second to process the fact that if Digby was standing in the crowd, then I was tussling with a stranger.

Digby told me afterward that Suzie Bear was being worn that day by a hearing-impaired girl named Wendy. He also said that my agitated waving and whispering probably made Wendy think I had something to say to her.

I didn’t find this out until later because security hauled me off to mall jail before there was any explaining. It took fifteen minutes solid of Digby’s fast-talking about various fur-oriented phobias he claimed I had to convince the mall cops to let me go.

‘Hey … your earrings are gone,’ he said.