I did my best, but I couldn’t hide the fact that I was freaked by her getup.
“Don’t you like the way I look?” Millie asked. She looked hurt. “I wore this for Easter.”
“It’s a hayride.”
“I’m meeting your parents. I want to make a good impression.”
My answer was a willful sigh.
“Well, what is it?”
“It’s the yellow,” I said, referring to the color of her suit. “To Hungarians, yellow is a color of illness. It’s a bad omen, that’s all.”
“You know what? You’re a bad omen. If your family’s like that, I don’t think I want to meet them. You think you look so great in that lumberjack shirt? Look, if you don’t think I’m good enough to meet your family, I can go home now.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“What did you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Millie said I better have a cigarette. My eyes were turning
