CHAPTER 7-2
1063 Words
Diana and Mara pulled into the cracked driveway in front of their slate-colored craftsman in a neighborhood on a bluff overlooking the Willamette River and Oregon City’s Main Street. While most of the houses on the block looked tired and in need of a coat of paint, theirs was in better shape—not so much that it looked out of place but enough to be noticeable to a casual passerby. Diana parked in the front half of the drive that ran along the side of the house so they could enter via the front porch.
“Why don’t you go on in and lay down on the couch? I’ll grab your things and the groceries, and make you an early lunch,” Diana said getting out of the driver’s side.
“I’m not an invalid. I can carry a couple bags on my way in,” Mara said walking to the back of the vehicle. “And I’m not taking a nap. I’m tired of lying around. If you aren’t going to let me go into the shop, I’ll work on the rototiller.”
“You’re not going to cooperate, are you?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
As they walked up the front steps of the house, a silver Nissan Sentra skidded into the end of the driveway several feet behind Diana’s blue RAV4. The Sentra stopped halfway into the drive with its back end hanging out into the street at a forty-five-degree angle. The driver’s door swung open, and a blonde girl popped up next to the car, her head barely high enough to see over the roof.
“Dude! You’re alive,” she said.
“Abby, stop calling me dude. We’re not eight anymore,” Mara said, juggling two grocery bags waiting for her mother to unlock the front door.
“I’m going to call you dude when you’re a grandma, assuming you live that long.” Abby slammed her car door shut and jogged up to the porch. “So what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“You know, crashing in an airplane. Did you tuck your head between your knees? Did you use your seat cushion as a flotation device? Did the flight attendant have to slap a freaked-out passenger? I would have completely peed myself.”
“Abby, that’s not very sensitive,” Diana said as she opened the door and stepped into the living room.
“How do you ask someone what it’s like to crash an airplane into the river, sensitively?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you start out by asking Mara if she’s okay?”
Abby shrugged and turned to Mara. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Abby tilted her head up slightly and leaned toward Mara. “Looks like you landed on your head.”
Mara rolled her eyes, followed her mother into the house, passed by the back of the couch facing away from the front door toward the stone fireplace and walked into the small hallway at the foot of the stairs that led to the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder. She set the bags on the dinette table in the kitchen and returned to the living room.
Abby had flopped into one of the two armchairs that flanked the stone hearth. Mara crossed the round Persian rug in the center of the room and sat down on the couch.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Mara hugged a cushion and leaned back, looking up the ceiling.
“I decided to follow your example and bail.”
“I didn’t bail. I graduated early.”
“Yeah, it sucks. If you hadn’t spent all your summers taking community college classes in vacuum cleaner repair, I’d have someone to hang out with. Who bails on their senior year and goes to work full-time? Don’t you understand that this is supposed to be the best time of your life? You know, dating, parties, all that carefree stuff. Instead, you’re working in that dusty old gadget shop.”
“Right, I’m going to take a year of high school I don’t need so I can entertain you and watch Ann Margoles puke at the prom. I like working at the shop. Mr. Mason needs me. The poor guy’s almost eighty years old and just had surgery. You want me to call him up and say, ‘Sorry, I’ve got a party to attend’?”
“Of course not. You certainly can’t be out having fun knowing there’s a broken toaster oven loose in the world burning English muffins.” Abby rolled her eyes. “Anyway, your mom said you were getting out of the hospital this morning, so I skipped to come see how you’re doing. Dad said it was okay, but I had to agree to run out to Canby to get his fishing stuff from my uncle.”
“Fishing stuff?”
“You know, rods, reels, tackle box, cooler, stuff like that. Before I go, I was hoping you could take a look at my car. The steering is really stiff. I need you to do your voodoo on it. The guys at the garage tried three times, and they can’t seem to fix it.”
“That explains the fine parking job you did when you drove up. I guess those guys at the garage didn’t go to community college.”
“You feel up to it? Can you take a look?”
“Only if you take me with you.”
“No problem. You afraid your mom is going to whip out the healing crystals and start chanting?”
“No more than usual, but she is being a little clingy. I could use a break from her. I think the whole plane-crash thing and me being in the hospital freaked her out a little.”
“Well, yeah. So does that mean we aren’t going to be able to go biking with Bruce tomorrow?”
“That’s tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow’s Saturday. You were supposed to fly back from San Francisco this morning, and Bruce said he’d take us for a spin on the Springwater Trail, and then show us the trail between Portland and here. It’s a lot of riding. Maybe we should put it off.”
“Maybe.”
“What’s so interesting up there on the ceiling? You haven’t looked at me since I drove up. Are you okay?” Abby said.
“I’m just a little out of sorts I guess.”
“Yeah, right. You’ve got that look on your face like when you rejiggered the PA system in sixth grade and almost deafened the entire school. You look stressed.”
“Shut up. I just survived a major airline disaster. It’s not like I just chipped a nail or something. Cut me some slack.”
“Maybe the ride out to Canby will relax you a little.”
Diana stepped into the living room and leaned against the wood molding running along the entrance. “Canby? Who’s going to Canby?”
“We’re going to run an errand for Abby’s dad,” Mara said.
“Mara—”
Mara raised her hands, palms facing her mother. “It’s just a short drive out to Canby, no big deal. I really need to do something other than lay around.”
Diana pursed her lips and paused for a few beats. “All right, just to Canby and back, but I want you to eat lunch before you go. Abby, you want something to eat?”
“Thanks, Mrs. Lantern. You got anything Paleo?”
“Paleo? What happened to the raw food diet? Too gassy?” Mara asked.
*
- Writer
