“Well, I’ll remind you of that as your someday approaches.” That turned the rest of the trip around.
We laughed and joked and talked about all kinds of things, but as we neared home,
there was one thing the conversation kept turning back to. Pancakes.
My mother, though, had other plans. She’d spent the morning scrubbing floors and nixed the pancakes.
I need something with more staying power. Like grilled ham-and-cheese. With onions,” she said.
“Lots of onions!” “Scrubbing floors?” my dad said. “It’s Sunday, Trina.
Why were you scrubbing floors?” “Nervous energy.” She looked at me. “How’d it go?”
“Okay. I’m glad I went.” She glanced at my dad and then at me.
“Well, good,” she sighed, then said, “I also felt like scrubbing because I got a call from Patsy.”
“Loski?” my dad asked. “Is something wrong?” My mother pushed a few wisps of hair back and said,
“No…. She called to invite us over for dinner on Friday.” We blinked at her a moment; then I asked,
“All of us?” “Yes.” I could see what my dad was thinking: Why?
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