Read Online Not Exactly a Love Story by Audrey Couloumbis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Audrey Couloumbis
Ads: Link
flipped the flag on the meter to start it working.
I was surprised. “You’re paying for this trip?”
“Hey, it’s not that big a deal. I had two fares to work my way out here. This way, my boss has no complaints.”
“Before you drove a taxi, you hated for us to take one. You said they cost too much money.”
“I’ve had a change of heart.”
“Guess so.”
“Tell me about your week,” Dad said as we headed for the mall.
I told him I was feeling a certain amount of pressure to get involved in a team sport.
“Like soccer?” Dad asked. Neither one of us was crazy about soccer.
“More or less.”
“What are your options for ‘less’?”
“Basketball, maybe.”
“I understand the school has a swim team.”
Dad knows I don’t like the water, but that never quite translates for him. He doesn’t get it that it means I don’t like swimming. There’s a sensation in my chest from water pressure, a kind of weight settling over me. When I didn’t reply, he came up with “Track?”
Track. That would never have occurred to me. “Is that a team sport?”
“I think the term ‘track team’ will stand you in good stead here.”
We dropped the subject as we approached the mall. Traffic was heavy, but Dad was undaunted. He wove his way across the lanes with the aplomb of a man who won’t have to pay for the auto-repair fees he incurs.
“You’re quite a driver,” I said.
“It’s important to remember it’s a team sport,” Dad said as he slowed to let another driver into the stream of traffic. A few minutes later, he made a left turn into the mall parking lot.
I spotted Sissy behind the counter as we entered the aquarium store. I raised a hand. She nodded, accepted a charge card from a man in a suede shirt, and made herself busy, too busy to talk.
“Friend from school?”
“Not really. We have a couple classes together.”
Sissy looked up at me once or twice as she packed all the guy’s stuff into two cartons, smiling crookedly. Dad and I strolled around the shop.
Probably this was the perfect moment to open up a serious conversation about Patsy and the phone calls, but frankly, it wasn’t the perfect place. Not only because it was a public place, but because it was too interesting.
The store featured a major floor-to-ceiling saltwater tank that held huge specimens. There was a mezzanine lit only by the light from the tanks. Most of the upstairs wall space was given over to fifty-gallon saltwater tanks. Dad and I wandered around up there for an hour before we settled on making up a list of what I would need.
We made decisions about air pumps and filters, and an assortment of other details. Some old guy was drafting arm-length sales slips while a couple of college kids ran around, getting the stuff the other customers were buying. By then, I think Sissy had forgotten I was there.
Dad got into line, saying, “Go do some thinking about fish.”
We both already knew what fish and snails we’d buy to help keep the tank clean, and that I would start with a few angelfish as the main event. This was a generous offer to hang around in front of the tanks upstairs instead of waiting in line down below.
I also had an aerial view of Sissy, who was kept busy scraping out charge-card purchases on a little machine that was nailed to the counter. And of Patsy, as she came in. I moved a few feet to stand next to a murky hundred-gallon tank, the bottom of which was dense with natural seaweed.
I stood right above them. I was mostly hidden behind the seaweed, but I could hear the girls clearly. I could even see them, although a grouper passed back and forth at regular intervals, briefly blocking my view.
TWENTY-FOUR
“Patsy,” Sissy said. “Are you here to buy fish?”
“No,” Patsy said, looking embarrassed. “I came to see you. I feel awful about the other day—”
“It doesn’t matter. Really,” Sissy said, looking apologetic. “I know how things are now.” Then she turned away
I was surprised. “You’re paying for this trip?”
“Hey, it’s not that big a deal. I had two fares to work my way out here. This way, my boss has no complaints.”
“Before you drove a taxi, you hated for us to take one. You said they cost too much money.”
“I’ve had a change of heart.”
“Guess so.”
“Tell me about your week,” Dad said as we headed for the mall.
I told him I was feeling a certain amount of pressure to get involved in a team sport.
“Like soccer?” Dad asked. Neither one of us was crazy about soccer.
“More or less.”
“What are your options for ‘less’?”
“Basketball, maybe.”
“I understand the school has a swim team.”
Dad knows I don’t like the water, but that never quite translates for him. He doesn’t get it that it means I don’t like swimming. There’s a sensation in my chest from water pressure, a kind of weight settling over me. When I didn’t reply, he came up with “Track?”
Track. That would never have occurred to me. “Is that a team sport?”
“I think the term ‘track team’ will stand you in good stead here.”
We dropped the subject as we approached the mall. Traffic was heavy, but Dad was undaunted. He wove his way across the lanes with the aplomb of a man who won’t have to pay for the auto-repair fees he incurs.
“You’re quite a driver,” I said.
“It’s important to remember it’s a team sport,” Dad said as he slowed to let another driver into the stream of traffic. A few minutes later, he made a left turn into the mall parking lot.
I spotted Sissy behind the counter as we entered the aquarium store. I raised a hand. She nodded, accepted a charge card from a man in a suede shirt, and made herself busy, too busy to talk.
“Friend from school?”
“Not really. We have a couple classes together.”
Sissy looked up at me once or twice as she packed all the guy’s stuff into two cartons, smiling crookedly. Dad and I strolled around the shop.
Probably this was the perfect moment to open up a serious conversation about Patsy and the phone calls, but frankly, it wasn’t the perfect place. Not only because it was a public place, but because it was too interesting.
The store featured a major floor-to-ceiling saltwater tank that held huge specimens. There was a mezzanine lit only by the light from the tanks. Most of the upstairs wall space was given over to fifty-gallon saltwater tanks. Dad and I wandered around up there for an hour before we settled on making up a list of what I would need.
We made decisions about air pumps and filters, and an assortment of other details. Some old guy was drafting arm-length sales slips while a couple of college kids ran around, getting the stuff the other customers were buying. By then, I think Sissy had forgotten I was there.
Dad got into line, saying, “Go do some thinking about fish.”
We both already knew what fish and snails we’d buy to help keep the tank clean, and that I would start with a few angelfish as the main event. This was a generous offer to hang around in front of the tanks upstairs instead of waiting in line down below.
I also had an aerial view of Sissy, who was kept busy scraping out charge-card purchases on a little machine that was nailed to the counter. And of Patsy, as she came in. I moved a few feet to stand next to a murky hundred-gallon tank, the bottom of which was dense with natural seaweed.
I stood right above them. I was mostly hidden behind the seaweed, but I could hear the girls clearly. I could even see them, although a grouper passed back and forth at regular intervals, briefly blocking my view.
TWENTY-FOUR
“Patsy,” Sissy said. “Are you here to buy fish?”
“No,” Patsy said, looking embarrassed. “I came to see you. I feel awful about the other day—”
“It doesn’t matter. Really,” Sissy said, looking apologetic. “I know how things are now.” Then she turned away
Similar Books
