| Subject: Chapter 23 |
Author:
Kate
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Date Posted: 18:56:09 04/01/01 Sun
In reply to:
by Kate
's message, "Things My Mother Taught Me" on 19:49:51 03/29/01 Thu
************
Have good manners, even at home.
Andy glanced down at his watch as he slammed the trunk of the car and lugged his laundry basket to the back door.
Perfect timing. Well, maybe he was a little late ...
He stumbled in the door nearly koshing himself on the lintel because he forgot the doors in this house were too low for him, and set his basket down with a bang. He yelled, "Mum! I'm home!"
He heard the scrape of a chair and his mother peered around the door, patting her lips on a napkin. "So I hear. Put a load in and come and eat, sweetheart."
"Uh ... I forgot the soap," Andy realized.
"In the cabinet above," his mother said from the kitchen. "Where it's been for the past 20 years."
"Yeah. Right." Andy poured soap in, started the machine, and began stuffing his clothes in willy-nilly.
From behind him, a voice said, "Don't you care about sorting?"
He swung around, and his face broke into a smile. "Hey, shrimp! Give your old brother a hug."
Indira grinned and softly punched him in the abdomen. He grunted as if she'd really hurt him, and she said, "You're going to turn all your clothes funny colors again."
"S'okay. People expect it now. How's school?"
"Over. I start summer classes in June."
"Hey, be a sport and run out and get my files in the car. Don't want to forget them tomorrow."
He tossed her the keys and Indira scampered out, returning with two briefcases. "This it?"
"Yeah, thanks Indy." He stuffed the last shirt in, closed the top and grabbed the heavy cases in one hand and Indira in the other, swinging her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. She shrieked and laughed, hitting him on the back. "Hey, stop tickling," he said. "Duck the door, we're coming through."
Indira cleared the top of the door frame with an inch to spare.
"Come and eat," his mother called, and Andy clumped into the kitchen and tossed the briefcases on the floor. "Sweetheart, put your sister down."
"Oh, yeah. Right." Andy set Indira down with a thump in her chair and sat down in his place. His mother placed a full plate in front of him.
"Looks delish, Mum."
"Use a knife, Andy."
"Uh, yeah. Right. A knife."
They chatted about this and that. Andy was not allowed to talk about work because fluids and functions were forbidden at the dinner table, but he listened to Indira's tales about her professors and his dad's latest book research. Soon, his mother glanced at her watch. "We need to go, dear."
"Right you are." Ian stood, a huge mountain of a man, clapped his son soundly on the shoulder and grinned. "Good to see you, ace. If I don't see you before you leave, safe journey."
"Yeah, thanks. Have a good time at the ballet."
Elena had turned to clear the table and Ian raised his eyebrows. "One of the joys in my life, the ballet," he said musingly, and Andy snorted.
"You're a good man, pop."
"That I am, that I am."
Indira said, "Mum, go get ready. You can't miss the first act, it's spectacular. Andy and I will do the dishes."
"Well --" her mother gave Andy a nervous look.
"Don't worry, Mum, I'll supervise," Andy said, waving her away. "Won't touch a thing, I promise."
"It's not that you're clumsy so much," Elena sighed, "You're just so big."
"Yeah, too big to be allowed, I know. Cut it out, I'll cry in a minute," Andy said, taking another piece of chicken before Indira put it away.
"Behave yourselves." Elena kissed the top of Andy's head and rolled her eyes. "And take a bath before you get on the plane tomorrow. Wash your hair. Promise me."
"Yeah, yeah, will do."
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