Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,41
respect him.”
George looked as embarrassed as if I’d walked in on him peeing. “Oh, I know you do. The guys say that, but they’re wrong. Mr. McMann seems like a great coach.”
The fact that George thought I was going to appreciate his support of my team only made me more irritated with him. The show came back on and I gave him the cold shoulder. Maybe it would freeze his stupid, smelly mouth.
“I’m starving,” Frank said, to no one in particular.
“I’m really excited to try your mom’s lasagna,” George said to Candace as he slung his arm around her.
Poking him affectionately in the ribs, she said, “I hope there’s enough, if you eat three plates again.”
I rolled my eyes and vowed to eat more than George.
Mrs. Trillo came in with a bowl of chips and some cold cuts. “George, it’s so nice to see you,” she said, beaming at him. He still had his meaty hand on Candace’s arm like she was a big fish he’d caught. “Now, I know you have a good appetite, but don’t fill up too quick. I made an extra-big lasagna.”
“Can’t wait, Mrs. Trillo,” George said, with a charming smile. I hated people who expertly sucked up to parents.
“Hey, does anyone want a pop?” Candace said.
“That would be great,” George said. Her brothers nodded.
Candace stood up. “Susan, can you help?”
“Sure,” I said. Maybe George’s girthy arm on her neck was too much and she had come to her senses.
I followed her to the basement, where the Trillos had a small second fridge for drinks and the cuts of meat Mrs. Trillo bought on sale and kept frozen until she needed them.
“Did you want something, too?” she asked me.
“No thanks,” I said. Then, whispering even though there was no way George could hear, I added, “So did you have to get away from his breath?”
Candace poked her head out of the fridge and said, “What’s your problem with George?”
She held out a bottle of 7Up for me, which I waved off. It looked delicious, with the condensation beading on the bottle, but I didn’t want to be distracted. “I don’t have a problem—I just don’t get it,” I said. “Remember when you read Love Story and said you wanted a guy like that? You really think that’s George?”
“That was just a book, and also the girl dies at the end,” she said.
“I’d rather die than kiss George.”
“Good thing you don’t have to,” Candace huffed. She looked toward the stairs, like she was anxious to get back to him. “All I’m saying is, the only boys you ever talk about are guys like Paul Newman and Mr. McMann. You pick people who aren’t even real choices. Prince Charming isn’t real.”
“I hated Cinderella,” I said, toeing a dust bunny from under the laundry machine with my shoe. “And Snow White.”
“I just mean no one is ever going to meet your unrealistic expectations.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. I wasn’t angry, but I didn’t like the way she was looking at me, like she felt sorry for me.
“Just give George a chance,” she said, eyes pleading.
I wanted to ask her, Why? He’d probably ditch her like every other guy. Instead, I said, “It’s not like I called him Garbage Breath to his face.”
Candace gave me the same look I gave Randy when he tried to lie about his bedtime. “George is waiting,” she said. “And the movie is starting soon.”
She went up the stairs, leaving me at the bottom. Why was it always so easy for her to leave when there was a guy around? I stood there for a few minutes, until the fridge kicked on and I remembered how creeped out basements made me.
I had no choice but to go upstairs. But instead of going back into the TV room, where I could now hear Mr. Trillo and George talking football, I went into the kitchen.
“Oh, Susan, just the set of pretty hands I need,” Mrs. Trillo said. “Can you put the salt and pepper out on the table? And slice a little more cucumber for the salad?”
I did what she asked and then, when she finally looked up from garnishing the lasagna—its top layer of cheese molten in the center and browned at the edges, where the corner noodles would be just the right amount of crispy—I gave her a hug and said, “Can you tell everyone I’m not feeling so great? I think I need to go home.”