enjoy ten hours a day with no humans at home to answer her every demand. Boomer, of course, sat like a bump on a log in his chair, and I was sure that he offered her no company whatsoever. He was too old and out of shape for a puppy with so much energy, and entertaining a lonely Baby was the last thing on his aging mind.
“No youth group tonight?” Marme asked.
I shook my head. “Nope. Not sure why. Something about schedules, I think.”
“How was school today? No drama, I hope.”
“No, ma’am. It was a relatively calm day. Tiffany was a little witchy at practice, but that’s nothing new.”
“I wish she’d just move on already.”
“Do you know if Pops got anything out of her about the uniform situation?”
“I haven’t heard. But if she didn’t act up at practice, maybe he scared her enough to keep her under control.”
“I sure hope so.”
“And what about Bob? How are you two doing at school?”
“Fine. We only see each other between classes every once in a while.” Marme and I had grown so accustomed to calling Riley “Bob” that it was now second nature and we were now calling him “Bob” in every conversation, not just to avoid the awkwardness of talking about me dating her son.
“So you do realize you need a plan, right?”
“A plan?” I stared down at the tomato in front of me. I’d never been very good at getting them sliced without all the insides squeezing out. “I think I’m doing this wrong.”
“Who cares what they look like? Just get them in the salad.”
“I thought you cared.”
“You’ve lived here for almost four months and you’ve prepared over fifty salads. I’m kinda used to them not looking perfect.”
“Oh.”
“And,” she continued, “I think your messy salads taste much better than my pretty ones ever did.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not. Now seriously, we need a plan.” Marme could change a topic faster than Riley could change the channel on the remote, and both would leave me in slight confusion until my brain caught up.
I carefully held the tomato so that I wouldn’t cut my finger as the knife blade made its way through. “A plan for what?”
“A plan for you and Bob. You know, some guidelines.”
“Good grief, Marme, I’ve already got boundaries coming out the ying-yang. How many more do I need?”
“I’m not talking about boundaries. I’m talking about guidelines. There’s a difference.”
“They sound the same to me.”
“Boys like a challenge, and with you and Bob living under the same roof, it’s going to be difficult to be a challenge.”
I tossed the tomatoes into the bowl and grabbed a cucumber. “What kind of challenge are we talking about? I think Riley—I mean Bob—sees me as a challenge already.”
“There’s a difference between being a challenge in the way you’re talking about and the way I’m talking about. You don’t have a choice but to be a challenge in the way you’re talking about—we’ve laid out rules about it. I’m talking about something totally different.”
My cloud of confusion hadn’t lifted yet. “Then what are you talking about?”
“I think girls today don’t respect themselves enough. They don’t realize how special they are and that they deserve to be pursued—they shouldn’t be the pursuer.”
“Hasn’t Bob already done the pursuing? I mean, we’re together.”
“I know, but you can’t ever let them take it for granted. Boys tend to get lazy, and no matter how great I think Bob is, I betcha he’ll get lazy if you let him.”
“Lazy?”
“If they know you’re going to make all the effort, they don’t.”
“They don’t?”
“Nope. Trust me. I’ve been a schoolteacher for years, and I see it happen all the time. The guy gets lazy and stops calling or texting or whatever it is you kids do these days, so the girl is the one calling all the time. Guess what happens?”
I stopped peeling the cucumber and looked at the strips of
“No youth group tonight?” Marme asked.
I shook my head. “Nope. Not sure why. Something about schedules, I think.”
“How was school today? No drama, I hope.”
“No, ma’am. It was a relatively calm day. Tiffany was a little witchy at practice, but that’s nothing new.”
“I wish she’d just move on already.”
“Do you know if Pops got anything out of her about the uniform situation?”
“I haven’t heard. But if she didn’t act up at practice, maybe he scared her enough to keep her under control.”
“I sure hope so.”
“And what about Bob? How are you two doing at school?”
“Fine. We only see each other between classes every once in a while.” Marme and I had grown so accustomed to calling Riley “Bob” that it was now second nature and we were now calling him “Bob” in every conversation, not just to avoid the awkwardness of talking about me dating her son.
“So you do realize you need a plan, right?”
“A plan?” I stared down at the tomato in front of me. I’d never been very good at getting them sliced without all the insides squeezing out. “I think I’m doing this wrong.”
“Who cares what they look like? Just get them in the salad.”
“I thought you cared.”
“You’ve lived here for almost four months and you’ve prepared over fifty salads. I’m kinda used to them not looking perfect.”
“Oh.”
“And,” she continued, “I think your messy salads taste much better than my pretty ones ever did.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not. Now seriously, we need a plan.” Marme could change a topic faster than Riley could change the channel on the remote, and both would leave me in slight confusion until my brain caught up.
I carefully held the tomato so that I wouldn’t cut my finger as the knife blade made its way through. “A plan for what?”
“A plan for you and Bob. You know, some guidelines.”
“Good grief, Marme, I’ve already got boundaries coming out the ying-yang. How many more do I need?”
“I’m not talking about boundaries. I’m talking about guidelines. There’s a difference.”
“They sound the same to me.”
“Boys like a challenge, and with you and Bob living under the same roof, it’s going to be difficult to be a challenge.”
I tossed the tomatoes into the bowl and grabbed a cucumber. “What kind of challenge are we talking about? I think Riley—I mean Bob—sees me as a challenge already.”
“There’s a difference between being a challenge in the way you’re talking about and the way I’m talking about. You don’t have a choice but to be a challenge in the way you’re talking about—we’ve laid out rules about it. I’m talking about something totally different.”
My cloud of confusion hadn’t lifted yet. “Then what are you talking about?”
“I think girls today don’t respect themselves enough. They don’t realize how special they are and that they deserve to be pursued—they shouldn’t be the pursuer.”
“Hasn’t Bob already done the pursuing? I mean, we’re together.”
“I know, but you can’t ever let them take it for granted. Boys tend to get lazy, and no matter how great I think Bob is, I betcha he’ll get lazy if you let him.”
“Lazy?”
“If they know you’re going to make all the effort, they don’t.”
“They don’t?”
“Nope. Trust me. I’ve been a schoolteacher for years, and I see it happen all the time. The guy gets lazy and stops calling or texting or whatever it is you kids do these days, so the girl is the one calling all the time. Guess what happens?”
I stopped peeling the cucumber and looked at the strips of
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