CHAPTER 31

The look on Emma's face unnerved me...

...and all I could think was, Oh, my God...if Mom finds her here!

Keeping my voice low, I hissed, "Emma, what are you doing...have you completely lost your mind?"

Instead of answering, she narrowed her eyes...

...and I started to panic...

...which quickly escalated into a full-blown panic attack...

...as she squared her shoulders and started to push her way past me...

...into the house.

Automatically, my arms shot out in both directions...

...and, like a soccer goalie, I began shuffling frantically from side to side, blocking her while begging, "Emma no! Emma, please don't do this! Go back home, and I'll call you at 3...I promise!"

She ignored me.

Finally, being unable to get past me, she ducked under my right arm...

...and stepped over the threshold!

Lunging forward, I grabbed onto her right arm...

...and spun her halfway around to face me...

...just as Mom emerged from the kitchen.

The three of us stared at each other, in stunned silence; but then, as I watched...

...Emma's militant expression disappeared completely...

...and was replaced by her usual, pleasant one. "Hi, Mrs. Greene...thanks for inviting me to lunch," she said...

...and the shock made my knees buckle...

...and flinging out my left arm, I managed to grab onto the door-side table just in time!

"Hello, Emma," Mom said, in a reserved, starchy tone of voice...

...and without a smile (the only thing about this whole encounter that didn't surprise me)!

This was followed by a stretch of awkward silence, but finally, Mom said to her, "Lunch will be ready in about twenty minutes. In the meantime, I'm sure you'd like to wash up, in the downstairs bathroom...

...alone!" she finished, whipping her head around in my direction and giving me a very pointed look.

I turned to face Emma. "Uh, yeah, down to the end of hall, then make a right," I said, pointing in that direction...

...and then, as Emma headed that way...

...I stumbled over to the couch and sat down...completely bewildered.

Once I'd recovered slightly from the initial shock, my first thought was: on the upside, I'd completely mistaken Emma's expression. Instead of harboring homicidal intentions, she'd actually been psyching herself up for an extended captive audience with Mom!

My next thought was extreme anger...toward both of them! Why didn't they tell me about this, so I'd at least have a chance to mentally brace myself? For starters, I have absolutely no idea what to talk about while we're at the table!

A few minutes later, Emma came out of the bathroom, and I got to my feet. "Be right back; have a seat on the couch," I advised her, then ran down the hall.

Washing my hands took only two minutes, but I lingered for a lot longer than that, because I was nervous as hell. But as badly as I wanted to hide in here...

...for the rest of the day...

...I suddenly realized that it left the two of them out there, unattended...

...together...

...and who knows how that could turn out?!

And so, I hurried back to the living room, where Emma sat at one end of the couch. After a moment's hesitation, I sat down all the way over at the other end...a very 'safe' distance away, so Mom wouldn't decide that we were "entirely too close" and then humiliate us both by making us sit across the room from each other!

As added insurance, I reached down, picked up Emma's backpack from the floor, and set it between us.

We stared at each other, in uneasy silence, until finally I whispered, "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Emma looked confused. "What? You mean...she didn't?"

"No! I had no idea!"

"I'm sorry!" she replied. "It never occurred to me that she...your mom just called me about an hour ago, while I was at the gym. I managed to get away early from the prom committee meeting and hurried right over."

"Emma, how could you believe that I knew? Why do you think I was trying to block you at the front door?"

I never did find out the answer to this...

...because, at that moment, Mom walked out of the kitchen.

"Everything's ready," she announced, and we both got up from the couch.

As we entered the dining room, my first impression was that I Did Not Like The Seating Arrangement! Emma was in my usual chair, with Mom and me directly across from her.

Jeez...does she really think that, if the two of us sit together, we'll grope each other under the table?

But then, it occurred to me that maybe Mom planned it this way so we can all see each other easily while we talk.

While not sure about this, I decided that the best thing to do under the circumstances would be to give her the benefit of the doubt...so, I did.

Mom went back into the kitchen for a moment, then brought out the first course. Setting it in front of us, she sat down and encouraged us to begin eating.

Looking down at our plates, I smiled.

Golden-brown, airy puff pastry pockets, open at one end, with a delicious-looking mushroom ragout spilling out of them.

Yes!

But then again, I thought, Emma's never mentioned to me whether she likes mushrooms (a lot of people don't); so without being obvious about it, I watched closely as she took her first bite.

To my relief, her face lit up.

"Mrs. Greene, this is so good!" she said. "And how did you manage to find fresh chantrelles this time of year?"

Mom gasped audibly. "Y-you can tell the difference between fresh and dried chantrelles?" she asked.

With a smile, she said, "Yes, I-"

"How do you even know what chantrelles are?" I blurted out.

Emma looked over at me. "My Uncle Harry is a chef...at the Diamond Casino in Atlantic City."

This was news to me. "Oh, Atlantic City...is it nice there?" I asked...

...while side-eyeing Mom, wanting to see her expression as she realized a person who had set foot in that den of iniquity was now sitting at her table!

But, Emma shook her head. "Actually, I've never been there. Uncle Harry is originally from around here; and would come back, for a couple of weeks, every major holiday. When he did, he would kick everyone else out of the kitchen and cook for days. I was the only one allowed in there with him, and he let me help, and that's how I learned about gourmet cooking."

She was silent for a moment, then added sadly, "But he doesn't come here anymore; I haven't seen him for almost two years."

And then, to my horror, Mom replied, "Oh...so, he found out about you?"

And I wanted to push her off the roof! How dare she say something so-

My thoughts were interrupted by Emma saying, "Well, no. It was because-"

I stared at her and shook my head vigorously. She didn't owe us an explanation about something so personal.

I'm not sure if she noticed me looking at her, but she continued, "...because of our church's Accountability Council."

Seeing the confusion on Mom's and my faces, she explained, "Oh, I thought every church had one. It's a group of six older men, headed by Reverend Barnes. They have a long list of rules every member of our congregation is required to follow, and they enforce them strictly."

"Enforce...you mean they spy on people!" I exclaimed, without thinking.

Emma was momentarily taken aback, but then agreed, "Yes, I guess you could say that. The rules center around the principle that church and family are the most important things...and, essentially, they expect everyone to toe the line. If you fall short, the Council "advises" you...and then, follows through to make sure you comply. If you don't, then the rest of the congregation finds out exactly what your transgressions are, and you're treated like a pariah. And since no one can be perfect, not even people who really try to, this leads to a lot of anxiety and paranoia among the church members, including my parents."

{Emma}

Anyway, whenever Uncle Harry was visiting, he always went to Sunday morning church services with us; and while Reverend Barnes had met him, and I guess, heard that he was a chef, he didn't know the details.

But one night, my parents came home from their Friday evening prayer meeting very upset. Unbeknownst to them, the Council was waiting for them there, and then there was a verrrry long discussion about our family...especially Uncle Harry. At the time, he was down for two weeks, for Thanksgiving; and so, Mom and Dad told him to come to church with them the following evening, without telling him why. Basically, Reverend Barnes somehow found out he was working in an A.C. casino and went ballistic.

Mom and Dad agreed with the church; but Uncle Harry, who'd had no idea what was going to happen that evening, was completely blindsided as the entire Council, plus my parents, all ganged up on him.

Anyway, when they got home, the three of them got into a huge fight in the living room. I was already in bed, but I heard the whole thing.

"I can't believe this!" he exclaimed. "I don't even gamble! And besides, who are they to judge my degree of Christianity?"

"It's not just that, Harry," Dad said, "also, you're now attending a Methodist church!"

"That's my own business, not theirs," he retorted.

"Look," Dad replied, "the Council isn't trying to interfere with your livelihood. They've agreed to allow you to continue working in Atlantic City, as long as it's not in a casino...and as long as the restaurant doesn't serve alcohol."

"Allow me to?!" he scoffed. "I don't need their permission...to do anything! I'm not even a member of this church anymore!"

And then, Dad shot back, "If you don't fall in line, you won't be a member of this family anymore!"

I'll spare you the rest of the fight, but Dad ended up telling Uncle Harry he's no longer welcome in our home, and not to contact us ever again; and then, Dad blocked access to his number on all our phones...and even though it's been heartbreaking, I haven't heard from him or been able to call him since. I miss him so much...he's such a wonderful man."

{Alyssa}

Emma paused...

...and I sneaked a glance over at Mom.

She looked pale.

Emma took a deep breath. "Well, I guess I'll tell you the rest of the story about the family."

Once again, I stared at her and shook my head.

And once again, I'm not sure if she noticed...

...but she continued, "Dad works in construction. He was with a big, very successful company for twelve years, but was fired because he...doesn't play well with others. He sometimes...has an unpleasant habit of...solving problems with his fists."

Mom shuddered.

"I know," Emma agreed, "I'm surprised he lasted there as long as he did. Anyway, after losing his job he couldn't find another, so he started his own small company. He was able to continue paying the bills, but it hasn't been easy, especially with this area being so economically depressed. Now he has to scramble to find work; and even though it's his own fault, he's very angry and bitter about it."

{Emma}

Right out of high school, Mom started working as a cashier in a department store, but quit the job after she and Dad got married; and she hasn't worked outside the home since.

I don't have any brothers or sisters...or cousins, so it was just the three of us. When I was thirteen, I figured out that I like girls. I would have come out to Mom and Dad...and I wanted to, but they both hate anything to do with homosexuality...which, of course, is also severely condemned by our church. Sometimes, on the news, there would be stories about a gay bashing, and Dad would make comments to the effect that the beating didn't go far enough...and that those faggots were lucky they didn't live anywhere around him.

I was always a tomboy, which Dad also hated. Mom didn't like it either, but told him it was only a phase, and that I'd grow out of it.

But, I didn't.

Looking back, I think the only reason things didn't go south earlier than they did is because in my bedroom I hung posters of the teen actor Zack Rogers. Mom and Dad may have thought I had a crush on him, but actually, I was into him because I loved his haircut, and his skateboard, and how cool he was.

Unfortunately, one thing the Accountability Council stresses is that children absolutely cannot be trusted, especially once they start high school. And they encourage parents to search their kids' rooms, anytime they want, looking for drugs, reading their personal diaries, etc.

And so one day, maybe a month after Uncle Harry left us for the last time, while I was at school Dad decided to go through all my stuff...

...and under my mattress, he found a Victorian Secrets catalog. He freaked out and called Mom into the bedroom.

While she was upset, too, Mom said, "Let's give Emma the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she wants to buy something from it."

But Dad was furious and said, "Then why is she hiding this like it's porn?"

Mom replied, "When young ladies are growing up, certain things are very awkward and embarrassing for them. And that would affect Emma doubly, since she's always been a tomboy. I know how much you want her to start to 'girly herself up' and now, it seems like she's finally considering it, so let's not say anything that might cause her to change her mind."

Dad didn't buy this explanation, but Mom was absolutely convinced she was right and, eventually, he reluctantly agreed to go along with it. Since they left my catalog exactly where they'd found it, and since, when Dad searched my room, he was very careful not to disturb anything, I had no idea he'd done it.

Almost a month later, I came home from school and was surprised to find them both there, since they had made plans to meet friends early and go bowling.

But now, Mom looked every bit as furious as Dad...

...and told me Andrea Mitchell's mother had called earlier...

...saying that Andrea was completely distraught, because I'd been staring at her in the school locker room.

Mom and Dad dared me to deny it...

...but I didn't. I was completely honest and told them everything...including the real reason why I had the catalog...because I enjoy looking at the pictures.

And then, I stood in front of them, shaking, because I know what they think of gay people. But instead of saying anything, they stormed out the front door and drove off to meet their friends.

They didn't come home until really late, and I went to bed terrified of being hauled in front of the Council...

...and, to be completely honest with you, of Dad beating me up.

When I got home the next afternoon, all of my stuff was in garbage bags and dumped onto the porch. There was a sign taped to the front door, saying that all the locks had been changed and to not even think of knocking...ever.

I only had $7 in my pocket, so I called Grandmom, my mom's mother, and told her what happened. She said to take a taxi to her house, and that she'd pay for it.

When I got there, she told me I could stay in Mom's old bedroom...and that's where I live now.

That Sunday morning, I went to church, and walked up to our family's usual pew, near the front, where we've sat for years. Mom and Dad were already there...

...but as soon as I sat down next to them, they got up and moved to a different spot, all the way at the back of the church. I swear, I wasn't going to try to talk to them! I...just wanted to..."

Her voice trailed off.

"Oh, Emma," Mom said, "you had to sit there all by yourself?"

Looking down at her plate, she nodded, then continued, "The next Sunday, Grandmom told me I could stay home, so I did. The Friday morning after that, I came downstairs early. She had promised me French toast for breakfast, but she was out on the sun porch with her friend Lorraine, so I sat down on the living room couch to wait until they had finished talking.

I wasn't eavesdropping, but the sun porch door was open and they didn't know I was there. Apparently, Grandmom had been telling Lorraine what happened to me last Sunday, because she said, "And then, I stopped by to see Reverend Barnes, and I asked him to call Emma, or to send her a note, letting her know she's still welcome at church; but while he didn't refuse outright, his response made it clear that he has no intention of doing so."

Without saying a word, I went back upstairs.

Later that day, Grandmom told me I don't have to go back to church again...so I never did."

{Alyssa}

Emma stopped speaking.

There was a long stretch of silence, and as I sat there looking at Emma, suddenly I realized what she was doing. Although she didn't have to tell Mom any of this, and Mom probably would never have found out most of it, Emma did it anyway...

...because she badly wants Mom's acceptance...so, she's deliberately making herself vulnerable in front of her, and telling her everything right up front.

And at that moment, I realized how much Emma loves me...

...because I know that I'm the reason she wants Mom to accept her.

And now, I'm beginning to understand, at least in part, why Emma has so much trouble talking to me about personal subjects...with parents like that, who could blame her?

But yesterday in the gym, she'd said that in order to repair things between us, we both have to make an effort...and now, even though it has to be really hard for her, she is...

...for me.

At that moment, I realized that Mom had set my entree in front of me...

...and I started in on it, while grateful that the break in the discussion would give me time to think.

I sneaked a glance over at Mom, dreading what I might see. I mean, directly across from her sits a child with parents of very questionable...upbringing. A dad who beats up co-workers, and an obviously-distant mother who doesn't give her daughter any emotional support.

Does she now think that Emma is too ill-bred to date me...

...or too "damaged?"

Mom's expression seemed to be deliberately blank, but I consoled myself with the thought that maybe she didn't want to look or act toward Emma like she pities her.

Emma offered to help clear the table.

Mom refused.

Emma got up from her chair. "Well, Mrs. Greene, thank you so much for inviting me. I had a very nice time, and-"

"Emma," Mom interrupted, "if you don't have any other plans, you're welcome to...stay for a little while."

I looked from Mom to Emma...and then back to Mom. I never get to have guests over...especially with no advance notice...so, I have no clue how to entertain her. At the moment, all my dumb mind could conjure up was to watch Sherman the Sheep reruns!

But then, I had an idea.

Turning to Emma, I asked, "Would you like the Grand Tour?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom flinch; but before she could actually protest, I took hold of Emma's arm and quickly steered her into the kitchen.

Not wanting a closed door between us and her, Mom hurried in behind us.

Emma looked all over, and actually scored a point in Mom's book by noticing/identifying/complimenting her toaster...a Barclay...which is like the Rolls Royce of toasters.

I then led Emma back out of the kitchen...

...and after a cursory tour of the dining and living rooms, which she'd already seen, we approached the foot of the staircase...

...where Mom had now stationed herself...

...glaring at me in a way that conveyed a very clear message: don't even DREAM of doing anything inappropriate up there!

Swallowing hard, I nodded in acknowledgment and led Emma upstairs.

I figured that the best way to keep Mom from freaking out/joining us would be to offer a non-stop, loud running commentary, so I opened the first door and said, in a booming voice, "This is one of our guest rooms...

"...and this is our second guest room...

"...and this is our bathroom...

"...and this is Mom's bedroom...and it has a really nice view."

I led Emma over to the window.

"Wow," Emma exclaimed, "I've never been in this park before, but what a great view of the fountain!"

"Sometimes, we like to sit there when the weather is nice," I told her (loudly)...

...but then added, under my breath, "But I'm not ever allowed to feed the squirrels; Mom's afraid they'll attack and give me rabies."

Emma bit back a laugh.

Heading back down the hall, I hesitated at the next door and called, "Mom?"

"Yes?" she replied...

...entirely too quickly.

"Uh...is it okay if I show Emma your office?"

"Yes, that will be fine," she said...

...and I opened the door.

Expecting Emma to only take a fast glance around it, I walked across the hall and opened the door, saying loudly, "And this is my bedroom."

"Oh, my God, Alyssa!" Emma gasped. "I...oh, my God!"

Based on the number of stomps I counted, Mom took the stairs two at a time.

She came rushing up the hall...

...probably expecting to find Emma naked, with my hand between her legs...

...but, instead of being in my bedroom...

...Emma was across the hall, in Mom's office...

...standing in front of the far wall and looking up at the two huge, framed lithographs hanging on it.

And with a wide smile, she exclaimed, "Well, hello, Mr. Parrish!"

And suddenly realizing what Emma found so "exciting," Mom asked, "You know Maxfield Parrish's work? Most people don't, since he only signed his initials, M.P."

"I love his work!" Emma replied. "There's a book in our library book, Great Twentieth Century Illustrators, which has a short biography of him. It also has six of his illustrations, but not these two."

Mom replied, "He was actually a very prolific painter and produced almost 900 works, over a 70 year career. These are two of his original lithographs."

Mom pointed to the one the left; a mostly pink-and blue-scene, which featured a girl standing on a mountain, with her hands and the wind in her hair, and said, "This one is called 'Ecstasy.'"

Then she pointed at the other one. "And this one is called 'Prometheus Bringing Light Down From Mount Olympus.'"

"They're both beautiful," Emma said. "Pictures in a book don't even begin to do his work justice!"

Mom looked from Emma to me, and then back to Emma...

...and then, to my surprise, asked, "Why don't we have dessert?"

A few minutes later, we sat back down at the dining room table, and Mom served marble pound cake...

...and while I didn't want to read too much into it, I noticed that Emma's piece was almost twice the size of the other two.

Mom looked across the table at Emma. "So, have you made any summer plans?"

Emma nodded. "I planned to work, full-time. Right now, I'm looking for a job."

Mom said, "Alyssa is looking, too. She's applied at a few places, but we haven't heard anything yet. How many applications have you put in?"

"About forty," Emma replied.

Mom's eyebrows shot up. "And how many interviews have you had so far?" she asked...

...and Emma looked down at her plate.

Oh, no.

Mom and I looked at each other, as we both realized the same thing.

Forty applications, but zero interviews? It could only mean one thing: For months now, Emma's gay prom cancellation story has been all over the news, and as a result, her face is very well known here in Edgewater...

...so, it's obvious that she's been discriminated against...

...over and over.

Mom smiled at her kindly. "Don't worry; I'm sure something will turn up for you soon."

Emma nodded, but didn't look like she actually believed it.

She was silent for a long moment, but then said, "Dad thinks that college is a complete waste of time. Grandad disagreed and, even though the two of them argued about it, he left me some money before he passed away. And since Mom and Dad won't co-sign a loan, and I wouldn't dream of asking Grandmom, I'm going to try to earn the rest of it myself."

Mom asked, "Do you think you'll have enough saved by September?"

Emma shook her head. "Actually, I'm starting classes next January."

"So is Alyssa," Mom replied. "Since she's worked so hard all senior year, I decided it would be nice for her to have a few months off in the fall, before starting school again...after her summer job ends."

Emma said, "In my case, it's not going to be just a summer and fall job; I'm going to have to work during the school year, too."

"That's too bad!" Mom exclaimed. "It's not going to leave time for...anything else."

I'm not surprised Mom said that. She doesn't like anything that can interfere with studies.

Emma looked across the table at me. "So, I guess I'll see you Monday?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, not Monday, or for several days after that. I'm going to be busy during lunch every day, possibly for the rest of the week, with the school's annual Sub Sale."

Emma's face fell. "Is that this week? I forgot."

For the record: every spring our school does this, on a massive scale, with all profits going into the Student Activity Fund...

...which is a fucking joke, since most of it goes straight to the football team, with almost nothing spent on the Arts, or the other sports programs.

To be honest, I'd just as soon skip the damned thing altogether, but as Student Council president, there's no way out.

Seeing Emma's disappointment, I promised I'd find a way to catch up with her soon.

She thanked Mom again for lunch...

...and then, I walked her to the front door...

...but knowing that Mom was watching us, I didn't even try to hug or kiss Emma goodbye.

Actually, neither of us had the nerve.

XXXXX

As usual, the Sunday church service sucked.

What's the deal with the Book of Leviticus? It's okay for me to eat ham (even though the book specifically forbids it), but not okay to be in love with my girlfriend?

Whatever.

Since you don't get much mileage off a bowl of cereal, by the end of the sermon I was extremely hungry; and as we pulled out of the church parking lot, I looked over at Mom and asked, "What are we having for lunch?"

With a smile, she replied, "I thought it would be nice to stop by the waffle house for brunch; but first we need to...run a little errand."

Oh, no.

Her "little errands" often turn into hours-long expeditions!

Hiding my "hanger" as best I could, I asked, "Where are we going?"

"Just to one place...the pharmacy."

"Okay," I said. "What do we need to buy?"

Mom hesitated. "Well, a few things, actually."

Crap!

I knew it!

We're going to be in there forever!

But not wanting to argue with her, I said nothing.

For such a small town, our pharmacy is huge...but, I guess that's because it's part of a chain and all of their stores are the same. Five minutes later, Mom parked the car and we headed through the front entrance.

At first, I felt encouraged because Mom didn't grab a shopping cart...

...but instead, she just started piling everything into my arms...

...and while we didn't walk down every aisle, we did go into most of them...

...and, to my utter frustration, she shopped with infuriating slowness!

Finally, six weeks later, I leaned over the cashier stand's conveyor belt and, heaving a sigh of relief, dropped everything onto it...

...and then, I smiled widely, certain that now we'll be out of here in five minutes.

I was wrong.

The line was not moving...

...because the idiot in front of us decided to pay with a personal check, and was in the middle of a long, heated argument about it with the cashier.

After digging around in her huge handbag...

...for the seventh time...

...she handed a laminated card to the cashier...

...who rolled his eyes, and said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but a Jason Beever Official Fan Club card is not a valid form of identification."

And so, this moron starts looking through her bag...

...again...

...saying, "Wait, I have my DMV license in here somewhere...I think."

"You think?" the cashier asked, incredulous. "You're probably driving around without a license?!"

Well, the dumb-ass took offense at this personal remark, and at that point, the two of them started to argue in earnest; and even though I was standing behind Mom, I didn't need to see her face to know what her expression was like, since she exhaled huffily and started tapping her foot.

Suddenly, a voice behind me said, "Hi!"

I turned around and, to my surprise, found myself looking at Emma.

"Hi!" I exclaimed.

"I didn't know you were here," she said with a smile.

"I didn't see you either," I replied...

...and glancing down at the item she was holding, I realized why.

It was one of the very few aisles Mom and I hadn't been in.

And then, curious, I leaned forward slightly and took a closer look at it.

I'd never seen this kind before.

It was an extremely large package of "Sometimes Super Infinity Jumbo Ultra Security Extra Long Extra Wide Ultimate Absorbency Heavy Flow Maxi Overnight Feminine Pads...With Wings."

Side note: Since Edgewater is still in the Dark Ages, menstruation - a common, normal biological function - is considered an extremely shameful, dirty, and sinful thing (thank you, organized religion)!

And since it's considered so disgusting and gross, you have to hide any and all "evidence" of it, including your "protection", because you're terrified that people will notice when you have it!

Even though Emma and I have been together for a year and a half, we've never discussed ours, at all...

...because it's a subject that's even too embarrassing to talk to your girlfriend about!

I was surprised by the size of this package, so I read the label carefully. It says it's a 32-count...

...but the bag is huge...

...which means that the pads are huge!

And after all, with a long, descriptive title like that, they have to be!

"Oh, wow," I thought, "she must get it really bad...every month!"

And suddenly, I was very curious about Emma's period...

...but also realized that I'll go to my grave not knowing...

...because I'm well aware that I'll be too embarrassed to ever bring it up.

Suddenly, to my horror, I realized what I was doing...

...or, to be more specific, what I had been staring at...

...for well over a minute.

Oh, my God!

Immediately I looked up...

...to find Emma staring back at me, mortified, with her face beet red.

And I was incredibly sorry that I'd upset her by staring at her pads so long...

...and I'm sure, in her mind, so judgmentally...

...but unfortunately, there was no way to apologize without drawing further attention to them. There was a very awkward stretch of silence, as I tried to figure out how to change the subject...

...but then, Mom started huffing impatiently again, and tapping her foot...

...and so, I nodded in her direction and rolled my eyes.

And, while still red-faced, Emma actually smiled.

Fiiiiiinally, the cashier started ringing up our stuff.

Just as he was about to announce the total...

...a blur of beige sleeve flashed in front of me...

...as Mom's arm shot right past my nose...

...and grabbed the huge package of pads from a very surprised Emma.

Turning back to the cashier, Mom said, "This too, please, in a separate bag."

After she paid for everything, he handed it to Mom, and I grabbed all of our own stuff, and the three of us headed to the exit.

Outside the pharmacy, Mom handed Emma her bag.

"Thank you, Mrs. Greene," she said.

And smiling warmly at Emma, Mom replied, "You're welcome."

And at that moment, I was so incredibly touched by what she did. If it had been something like a toothbrush, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but since pads are an extremely personal item; and, because of the kind way Mom was smiling at Emma, it seemed that this gesture was her way of saying, "I accept you, and care about you...and want to take care of you."

And I can't even begin to explain how much that meant to me.

Turning back to Emma, I asked, "Where are you parked?"

"Over there," Emma replied, with a vague wave toward the Northeast corner of the lot.

Mom turned to me. "Alyssa, you may walk Emma to her truck."

Once we reached it, I said, "Emma, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

I hesitated, then said, "Why can't I be on the prom committee? I'm Student Council president, but Kayleigh and Shelby told me I can't come to any meetings!"

Emma looked down at the ground...

...then up at me, and said, "They're excluding you...because I encouraged them to."

"What?"

She nodded, then said, "Friday afternoon, while you were on the bleachers in the gym, Kayleigh and Shelby told me all about what happened at the first prom...what they did to you and how sorry they are about it. They decided they want to make things up to you, and so, I suggested that we take over all the planning ourselves. We want to surprise you, and it will also free up your schedule a little...giving you some scarce free time."

"I don't want free time!" I sulked. "I'd rather spend it with you at prom committee meetings!"

With a smile, Emma said, "And I'd rather spend every lunch period this week with you, instead of you having to work on that dumb sub sale!"

Suddenly, she stared over my left shoulder and a strange look shot across her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Don't look now, but your Mom's coming this way."

I didn't turn around, but I heard the distinctive slap-slap of her gray-and-white spectators against the asphalt, as she approached rapidly...

...and then, as she came to a stop behind me, I nervously slapped the fender of Emma's truck and asked, "So, what kind of mpg does this thing get-oh, hi Mom!"

Ignoring me, she looked over at Emma and said, "I just remembered something; Alyssa tells me you both have Mr. Rapp for History?"

Emma replied, "Well, we're not in same class - I have him in the afternoon - but yes, we do."

Mom said, "Well, then, you're welcome to come over for dinner one night this week, and then the two of you can study together...

...at the kitchen table!" she added, glaring at me.

"Thanks, Mrs. Greene; I'd like that."

"Mom said, "I'm not sure of my schedule yet, but Alyssa will let you know."

Then she looked at me and said, "I'm going to bring the car around."

Regretting my whiny little spiel of a few minutes ago, I said, "Well, I guess we both have to accept that for the next two weeks - between the sub sale and all the prom meetings - both of our schedules are going to be screwy and we may not get to spend much time together."

She nodded.

Then, I added, "And after everything that's happened, I want you to have a great prom, so I promise not to get upset that you need to go to so many planning sessions."

Emma smiled and said, "In that case, I promise to cut you a lot of slack on your sub sale, too."

I thought things over for a minute, then said, "Well, I may be free for a few minutes tomorrow at the end of lunch time...but I'm not sure. We don't know exactly when the purveyor is going to deliver the ingredients, so..."

Emma smiled. "I'll be waiting in the auto shop for you, in case you can get away, even if it's only for a few minutes. And if you can't, it's fine."

She took a deep breath. "Alyssa, look at me."

I did...

...and she said, "It's going to take a little while, but I promise that soon we're going to discuss what happened Friday night with your mother...for as long as you need and want to...and I also promise that, while we do, I'm going to hold you so close to me."

"Oh, Emma!" I sniffed, but then took a deep breath, determined not to start crying in the parking lot. Then, I asked, "Can I call you tonight?"

Emma shook her head. "I might be able to call you...but, I'm not sure. I have two things to do, one of which is a prom meeting."

"What's the other one?" I asked...

...but instead of answering, she just smiled mysteriously.

"Come on, Emma...tell me!"

"Sorry; it's a surprise."

"Well, do you know what time you'll be done?" I asked.

"Not really. Kayleigh, Shelby, and I are discussing prom plans over burgers...and then, I have to see Barry."

"He's going to join you at the restaurant?"

"No. It's Trent's birthday, so he and the rest of his crew are having an early dinner together. I'm not sure what time they'll be done; but afterward, Barry's going to call me, and then I'm going meet him in his hotel room, because he...wants to talk to me about something."

I was dying to find out what...but she'd already refused to tell me, and I didn't want to sound needy and whiny and bratty, so I let it drop.

Then, she said, "Look, if I finish before 10:30, I'll call you."

At that moment, Mom pulled up...

...and knowing that she was watching us, I didn't even try to hug or kiss Emma goodbye.

Actually, neither of us had the nerve.