Something else

I came home that afternoon and for the first time in two months had nothing to do or nothing I should be doing but didn’t want to do. It should have felt great but it didn’t. I still felt like there was something I had to do. Something big.

I was so wound up I even went out and worked in the veggie patch voluntarily. As I pulled up all the crap that had grown since Mum had her last clean-out, I started to think about Elizabeth. I had to sort things out with her. I knew she was too special to lose, I just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Sure, every time I thought of her father’s handshake after the musical I broke into a cold sweat, but considering I could still barely see out of my left eye, I’d had worse.

As I picked some produce for the latest Patricia Armstrong extravaganza, I surveyed the veggie patch and for a couple of minutes I stopped stressing. It looked good. It was Mum’s and my first combined project and to tell you the truth I was proud of it. I was proud of me and Mum and it. And I know Dad would have been too.

I came in to find Mum setting the table for dinner like we used to. Since the success of the Middle Eastern feast she’d fallen back into it. I washed the veggies and looked around for something else to do. There wasn’t anything, so I started a lap of the house trying to figure the best strategy to use with the Zefferellis. After twenty laps Mum freaked. She told me to either sit down and watch telly or go and walk around my own room and stop annoying her until dinner was ready.

I stopped lapping the house and started lapping the lounge room. As I lapped, the phone beamed out like a two-dollar shop’s bad flashing neon sign. The phone was the answer. The only thing for it was to ring the Zefferellis and leave a message. But I knew it couldn’t be on Elizabeth’s phone because the parents had to hear it. It had to be on the landline.

I made eight attempts and hung up each time. Finally on the ninth try I did it. I sounded like a complete loser, but I carried on about how I was really sorry about the other night and that it was an exceptional case and how I didn’t go around bashing everyone I met. Well, something like that anyway. I’d tackle Elizabeth tomorrow. She’d have to rate the fact that I left myself right open with the landline message, wouldn’t she?

Mum called me to have dinner. I put the posh serviette on my lap before Mum had a go at me and knew I’d played the Elizabeth and parents thing just right. But I still felt wound up. I figured food might fix it and dug into the veggie-patch feast. I looked across the table and watched Mum as she lit the candles.

We spent dinner talking about Andrews, the assignment, the veggie patch and stuff. I asked if she’d mind if I invited Zach over for dinner and she suggested I ask both the Cohens. I nearly choked on the mixed lettuce salad.