| Page 2 �Yeah,� Simon said between mouthfuls. �Well, actually no. I want tonight to be special.� �Oh my God,� Emily squealed, leaping to her feet. �Are you going to propose?� Simon looked at her as if she had just grown horns. �No, mother I am not going to propose. I haven�t even told her I loved her yet.� Emily sank back onto the couch deflated. �Oh, now when were you going to that?� �Tonight.� �I don�t see what the big deal is,� I said without thinking. �It�s just three little words. How can you mess it up?� Simon and Emily looked at each other and then at me. Emily snorted. �Someone needs to get this girl a man, pronto.� Simon shook his head agreeing. The bathroom door opened and Al finally emerged. She looked great, almost as good as when I did her makeup. Simon stood up quickly, frantically brushing the pretzel crumbs off his shirt. �Let�s go,� he said wrapping one arm around Al�s waist and using the other to snag a pretzel for the road. �Have fun you two, �Emily called out. �But be careful. I don�t want to be the only woman in my bowling league to be a grandmother before menopause!� There was a loud hacking noise as Simon choked on a pretzel. Al pounded him on the back, her cheeks flaming. Simon glared at his mother who was laughing hysterically. �You are insane,� he hissed before dashing out the door Al in tow. Emily looked at me still laughing. �So Natalie, why haven�t you found a man yet?� She asked. I blushed, picking at a hole in my jeans. �I don�t know,� I said slowly. �I guess I haven�t been looking.� �Oh now,� Emily said waving her hand. �What�s that boy�s name who�s friends with Simon? Is it D.T.? He�s perfect for you! Oh wait, isn�t he the one who- �Yes,� I said quietly. �He�s dead.� Somehow, saying it out loud made it real. For the past three weeks I had just gone through the motions never pausing to think about things too long. I had fooled myself into thinking I was okay, but I wasn�t. I wasn�t strong like Simon and Al. I was weak. �I�m such a flake,� I sobbed. �Oh, honey,� Emily said. She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around me, stroking my hair and telling me everything would be okay. I could only hope she was right. After my brief flaky moment I recovered and we watched tapes of One Life to Live and General Hospital. My problems always seem so minimal after watching soap operas. Every character is either close to death or involved in some kind of messy love affair. My life has never been that dramatic. By the time I returned home I felt much better. My mom was up waiting for me as usual. Even though I was eighteen and going to college in two months she still insisted on waiting up for me. It was getting rather annoying. �Hi, honey. Al called while you were out.� She called from her spot in the living room. I froze on the staircase. Al only called after dates that were important. Considering it was only 10:45 I assumed it was bad. �When did she call?� I asked �About fifteen minutes ago.� I winced. Really bad. Poor Simon. I couldn�t help but wonder what he did to blow it this bad. I went to my room and checked my messages. Al had left a very long message most of it incomprehensible. She spoke in random angry bursts as if she were having a conversation with someone. She was muttering under her breath and shouting things to her parents so I was only able to understand this much: �I cannot believe�that jerk�does he have any idea� Yes, Mom. I dropped off your dry-cleaning. Anyway, I am just so...Dad or someone feed the damn dog!� It went on and on. Finally the message ended and I called Simon for the whole story. �Yo, dawg.� �Hey Simon its Natalie�are you drunk?� I asked. I should have known. �Maybe,� he slurred. �Look, meet me at The Shoppe tomorrow to talk, okay?� I asked wondering if he would remember. �Will do.� Click. I lay down on my bed exasperated. Al was too furious to speak normally and Simon was drunk which left me to lay awake all night wondering. What happened!?! Chapter 2: Ice Cream Sundaes As the sun reached its highest point in the sky and the heat enveloped the earth like a blanket on a warm Sunday afternoon, I walked into the local ice cream parlor to meet Simon. The owner of the store, Ben Marks, was expecting me and already had my usual, a chocolate milkshake, on the counter waiting for me. �It�s about time you got here,� Mr. Marks said, smiling. �Simon was about to pounce on that sundae of yours.� I smiled. �I didn�t think you�d be here.� �I have a knack for remembering things that happen when I�m drunk.� Simon said. Then he screwed up his face. �That isn�t always a good thing.� Mr. Marks laughed. �What a talent. Be sure to put it on your resume. But on to more important matters. Natalie, what did you think of the sermon?� When he wasn�t serving sundaes, Mr. Marks was our town�s local Presbyterian minister. �Boring as usual,� Simon said before I could open my mouth. �I didn�t ask you,� Mr. Marks said. �Natalie what did you think? Be honest.� �Um, I think I�ll have to agree with Simon on this one. That hell, fire and brimstone stuff just gets old after awhile.� I said apologetically. Mr. Marks rolled his eyes. �You kids today have no respect for motivational speaking. Why when I was a kid-� �The microphone hadn�t been invented yet so everyone had to yell and that motivated the congregation to get some ear plugs and the minister to get a cough drop,� Simon finished. �You kids have no respect for your elders-I mean-superiors either,� Mr. Marks said, chuckling. �That is so not true; I have tons of respect for Austin Powers,� Simon exclaimed. Mr. Marks threw his arms up in the air. �Heaven help me!� he exclaimed, exasperated. �Okay, okay, let�s focus on the issues here! Simon, what happened last night?� I asked, yelling to be heard. �I blew it,� Simon muttered dejectedly. �That much I figured out,� I said. �What�s going on?� Mr. Marks asked. Simon and I ignored him. �Well the movie totally tanked and it was longer than I expected so we missed our reservations.� Simon began. �So where did you end up eating?� I asked. Simon flushed. �McDonalds,� he muttered. I winced. A perfectionist in every way, Al expected fine dining and sparkling conversation on every date she went on. McDonalds doesn�t cut it. Mr. Marks laughed. �You took Al to McDonalds on a date? Was this supposed to be some kind of special evening?� �You�re not helping,� I hissed. �Oh that�s not all,� Simon said, twirling his straw around in his glass. �I ran into some guys from the team.� �What team?� I asked. �High school is over.� �The community baseball team.� �Oh, the one you got kicked off of for missing so many practices?� Mr. Marks asked. Simon glared at him. �Yes, that one. The entire team was there, the guys, the mascot, the cheerleaders� I could see where this was going. Al detests being ignored above anything else. ��I turn around and she had just stormed out.� Simon finished Page 3 |