her
life.
She
drove out onto the street and headed for the highway. The unrelenting rain and
the blackness of night seemed to absorb all of the illumination from her
headlights; at times she wondered if they were still on. She drove slower than
usual, squinting into the all-encompassing darkness, afraid she would drive off
the wet asphalt, and when she finally reached home and parked in front of the
store, she was more than an hour late. A curtain moved in the brightly lit
windows above the darkened store as she turned off the lights and motor.
Someone had been watching for her, and she knew she was in for a lecture.
This
is a good example of why I shouldn’t be driving alone , she thought, knowing full well that on this
particular night Greg still would have left her on her own.
She
cursed herself for not having an umbrella, then stretched her sweater around
and over the books she clutched to her chest and bolted through the heavy rain
to the wet staircase leading up the side of the house. Her mother opened the
kitchen door as Connie reached it, and she hurried into the welcome warmth, her
hair dripping chilly water down her face and neck as she entered. The room
still smelled of the baked stuffed eggplant her mother had made for supper, and
Connie realized how hungry she was. Her last meal had been a lunchtime bowl of clam
chowder in the student union cafeteria.
“You’re
late!” Mamma went to the sink and come back with a hand towel which she rubbed
vigorously against Connie’s dripping hair.
“Geez,
Ma, give me a minute.” Connie set her books on the kitchen table and peeled off
her soaked sweater. Angie stood in the doorway to the living room, watching
her; she could hear her father snoring in the room beyond. As Connie disengaged
the final length of wet sleeve from her skin, Angie stepped into the kitchen
and silently took the sweater from her, then disappeared into the bathroom with
it.
“Driving
was bad. Plus, I fell asleep in the parking lot for a while. I don’t know how
long.” Connie took the towel from her mother and rubbed her own hair, then
dried her face and neck and rubbed the wet skin on her forearms. She was beginning
to warm up, and her attentions shifted to her rumbling stomach. “I’m sorry I
missed supper. I left the library at four-thirty, like usual, but I was so
tired, I just fell asleep when I got into the car. And then, I could hardly see
in the rain. It’s like you have no headlights.”
Mamma
turned on the oven, then went to the refrigerator and pulled out the pan of
leftover eggplant. “This is only the second week of school, and you’re tired
already? This is not good. Maybe you go to school too far away. Maybe you
should go to St. Agnes. Gianna was never so tired.”
I’d
rather poke my eyes out with a fork .
“The first weeks are always tough. It’s just a matter of getting used to it.
I’ll be fine.”
“I
see,” Mamma said, but the tone of her voice made Connie think that her mother
didn’t see at all. Mamma put the eggplant casserole into the oven, then pivoted
to look into Connie’s face. “While you wait for your supper, your sister has
something to tell you.”
Angie
had returned to the kitchen and was pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. Her
eyes were red and puffy, and Connie’s throat tightened with panic as she pulled
out the chair across from Angie. “What?”
Angie’s
red-rimmed eyes came up to meet Connie’s, and she frowned. “Not me. Gianna.”
Confused,
Connie turned toward the living room where Gianna stood in the doorway,
silently watching them. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and her glossy dark
hair hung in a pageboy cut just above her shoulders. Connie gave her sister a
wide grin. “Your hair looks great! It really changes your face. Did you get
contacts, too?”
“Geezum,
Connie.” Angie’s voice sounded strangled.
“I’m
not getting contacts.” Gianna’s eyes were locked on Connie’s, and her face was
tense.
life.
She
drove out onto the street and headed for the highway. The unrelenting rain and
the blackness of night seemed to absorb all of the illumination from her
headlights; at times she wondered if they were still on. She drove slower than
usual, squinting into the all-encompassing darkness, afraid she would drive off
the wet asphalt, and when she finally reached home and parked in front of the
store, she was more than an hour late. A curtain moved in the brightly lit
windows above the darkened store as she turned off the lights and motor.
Someone had been watching for her, and she knew she was in for a lecture.
This
is a good example of why I shouldn’t be driving alone , she thought, knowing full well that on this
particular night Greg still would have left her on her own.
She
cursed herself for not having an umbrella, then stretched her sweater around
and over the books she clutched to her chest and bolted through the heavy rain
to the wet staircase leading up the side of the house. Her mother opened the
kitchen door as Connie reached it, and she hurried into the welcome warmth, her
hair dripping chilly water down her face and neck as she entered. The room
still smelled of the baked stuffed eggplant her mother had made for supper, and
Connie realized how hungry she was. Her last meal had been a lunchtime bowl of clam
chowder in the student union cafeteria.
“You’re
late!” Mamma went to the sink and come back with a hand towel which she rubbed
vigorously against Connie’s dripping hair.
“Geez,
Ma, give me a minute.” Connie set her books on the kitchen table and peeled off
her soaked sweater. Angie stood in the doorway to the living room, watching
her; she could hear her father snoring in the room beyond. As Connie disengaged
the final length of wet sleeve from her skin, Angie stepped into the kitchen
and silently took the sweater from her, then disappeared into the bathroom with
it.
“Driving
was bad. Plus, I fell asleep in the parking lot for a while. I don’t know how
long.” Connie took the towel from her mother and rubbed her own hair, then
dried her face and neck and rubbed the wet skin on her forearms. She was beginning
to warm up, and her attentions shifted to her rumbling stomach. “I’m sorry I
missed supper. I left the library at four-thirty, like usual, but I was so
tired, I just fell asleep when I got into the car. And then, I could hardly see
in the rain. It’s like you have no headlights.”
Mamma
turned on the oven, then went to the refrigerator and pulled out the pan of
leftover eggplant. “This is only the second week of school, and you’re tired
already? This is not good. Maybe you go to school too far away. Maybe you
should go to St. Agnes. Gianna was never so tired.”
I’d
rather poke my eyes out with a fork .
“The first weeks are always tough. It’s just a matter of getting used to it.
I’ll be fine.”
“I
see,” Mamma said, but the tone of her voice made Connie think that her mother
didn’t see at all. Mamma put the eggplant casserole into the oven, then pivoted
to look into Connie’s face. “While you wait for your supper, your sister has
something to tell you.”
Angie
had returned to the kitchen and was pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. Her
eyes were red and puffy, and Connie’s throat tightened with panic as she pulled
out the chair across from Angie. “What?”
Angie’s
red-rimmed eyes came up to meet Connie’s, and she frowned. “Not me. Gianna.”
Confused,
Connie turned toward the living room where Gianna stood in the doorway,
silently watching them. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and her glossy dark
hair hung in a pageboy cut just above her shoulders. Connie gave her sister a
wide grin. “Your hair looks great! It really changes your face. Did you get
contacts, too?”
“Geezum,
Connie.” Angie’s voice sounded strangled.
“I’m
not getting contacts.” Gianna’s eyes were locked on Connie’s, and her face was
tense.
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