Al’s Blind Date: The Al Series, Book Six by Constance C. Greene Page B

he tried to kiss me. That kept me awake nights. You see, in those days,” my mother said, giving me a piercer, “a kiss was a big deal.” She fell silent and had a little smile on her face. I guess she was thinking about those olden days of her youth.
    â€œDid he try?” I asked. I didn’t want to seem too eager. All I wanted was for her to go on and on, leaving nothing out.
    â€œI think he did,” she said. “Remember, this was long ago. He sort of lunged at me and almost knocked me off our front steps. I lunged the other way and we missed contact by a good five feet. And when I went in, there was Tess, sitting on the living-room couch in her nightgown, pretending to read a book. She was waiting up for me because our parents had gone to the movies or something. ‘What happened?’ she asked me. I can still see her, wide eyed, wanting some tale of wild events, so, of course, I made some up. I went all out, until Tess’ eyes were so wide I could see myself in them as if they were a mirror. That was the best part of the evening, telling Tess my version of what hadn’t happened.”
    My mother laughed at the memory.
    â€œOh, Mom,” I said. “I wish I’d known you when you were young.”
    â€œYes,” my mother said. “Just think. You might’ve been the friend whose brother I went to the dance with for a fifty-cent finder’s fee.”
    â€œYou’d never go out with Teddy!” I said, shocked. “Not in a million years.”

Ten
    The next morning Al and I skinned down the service stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. We didn’t want to take the chance of running into Sparky’s mom. We still hadn’t decided whether we’d take her up on her invite.
    â€œWhat’s that?” I pointed to Al’s book bag, which was stuffed with what looked like a bunch of old clothes.
    â€œMy sweats,” Al said. “I figured we might give the health club another shot on our way home. After all, Al did seem a kindly gentleman.” She gave me her owl eye for an instant. “So I’m prepared. How about you?”
    â€œMy leotard’s too small,” I said. “I tried it on last night. It’s about right for Teddy, I figure.”
    â€œHey, cool,” Al said. “Teddy as a ballet dancer. It boggles the mind, n’est-ce pas ? If Ted decides he wants to emulate Barishnykov, he can save your folks a bundle by skipping into your leotard and they won’t have to buy him a new one.”
    â€œI had a discussion with my mother last night about blind dates,” I said. “She had three blind dates in the eighth grade. All with friends’ brothers. She said she had a lousy time.”
    â€œNo kidding? I asked my mother if she’d ever gone on a blind date and you know what she said?”
    â€œNo. What?”
    â€œShe said her mother was very, very strict, so strict my mother couldn’t even go out with a boy unless she brought the boy home so her mother could meet him, check him out and all. How do you like them apples?”
    â€œThat’s strict, all right,” I agreed. “My mother said she was always taller than the boys her age. She said the short boys always picked her to dance with.”
    â€œI knew your mother and I had lots in common!” Al said, smiling. “I appreciate her predicament. I bet if Michael J. Fox and I were at the same dance, he’d make a beeline for me when they played a waltz. Same with R. Redford. I hear he also goes for the tall ones. If that happened, all the other girls would be green with envy, I bet.”
    â€œHow tall is Brian?” I said. “You never told me.”
    â€œOh, he’s tall,” Al said. “Pretty tall. He’s still growing, of course. Guys reach their full growth a lot later than girls do, you know. Ask any medical doctor, they’ll tell you.
    â€œI just wondered,” I said. “I