Brain Child Page 0,8
she smiled. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we compromise? Let’s wait until his grades come out, and see what happens. If they get worse, I’ll agree that getting him the car was a mistake, and you can take it away from him. I’ll cope with the transportation problem some way. If they stay the same, or improve, he keeps the car. But either way, we stop fighting about it, all right?”
Marsh hesitated only a second, then grinned. “Deal,” he said. “Now, what say I help you with the dishes, and we try to put together something with the Cochrans?” He offered his wife a mischievous wink. “I’ll even drive over next door and pick them up.”
The last of the tension that had been vibrating between them all afternoon suddenly dissipated, and together Ellen and Marsh began clearing away the dinner dishes.
Alex carefully backed his shiny red Mustang down the driveway, then parked it by the curb in front of the Cochran’s house next door. He picked up Lisa’s corsage, crossed the lawn, and walked into the house without knocking. “Anybody here?” he called. Lisa’s six-year-old sister, Kim, hurtled down the stairs and threw herself onto Alex.
“Is that for me?” she demanded, grabbing for the corsage box.
“If Lisa isn’t ready, maybe I’ll take you to the dance,” Alex replied, peeling Kim loose as her father’s bulky frame appeared from the living room. “Hi, Mr. Cochran.”
Jim Cochran raised one eyebrow and surveyed Alex. “Ah, Prince Charming descends from the castle on the mountain to take Cinderella to the ball.”
Alex tried to cover his feelings of embarrassment with a grin. “Aw, come on. We’re not moving for two more weeks. And it’s not a castle anyway.”
“True, true,” Cochran agreed. “On the other hand, I haven’t noticed you asking if you can rent Kim’s room. We’ll happily throw her out.”
“You will not,” Kim yelled, aiming a punch at her father’s belly.
“Will too,” her father told her. “Want a Coke, Alex? Lisa’s still upstairs trying to make herself look human.” He dropped his booming voice only slightly, still leaving it loud enough to fill the house. “Actually, she’s been ready for an hour, but she doesn’t want you to think she’s too eager.”
“That’s a big lie!” Lisa said from the top of the stairs. “He always lies, Alex. Don’t believe a word he says.” Lisa, unlike Alex, had inherited all her looks from her mother. She was small, with short blond hair swept back from her face so that her green eyes became her dominant feature. And, being not only Lisa, but her father’s daughter as well, she had chosen a dress in brilliant emerald rather than the more subdued pastels the other girls would be wearing. Alex’s grin widened as she came down the stairs. “Hey, you look gorgeous.”
Lisa smiled appreciatively and gave him a mock-seductive wink. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” She stood waiting for a moment; then: “Aren’t you going to pin the corsage on?” Alex stared at the box in his hands, his face reddening as he handed it to Carol Cochran, who had appeared from the direction of the kitchen.
“M-maybe you’d better do it, Mrs. Cochran. I … I might slip or something.”
“You won’t slip, Alex,” Lisa told him. “Now, come on. Just pin it on, and let’s go. Otherwise we’ll be here all night while Mom takes pictures.”
Alex fumbled clumsily with the corsage for a moment, but finally succeeded in getting it fastened to Lisa’s dress. Then, true to Lisa’s words, Carol Cochran began herding them into the living room, camera in hand.
“Mom, we don’t have time—” Lisa pleaded, but Carol was adamant.
“You only go to your first prom once, and you only wear your first formal once. And I’m going to have pictures of it. Besides, you both look so—”
“Oh, God, Alex,” Lisa moaned. “She’s going to say it. Cover your ears.”
“Well, I don’t care,” Carol laughed as Alex and Lisa clapped their hands over their ears. “You do look cute!”
Twenty-four pictures later, Alex and Lisa were on their way to the prom.
“I don’t see why we have to stand in the receiving line,” Alex complained as he carefully slid the Mustang into a space between an Alfa Romeo and a Porsche. Before Lisa could answer, he was out of the car and opening the passenger door for her.
From a few yards away, a voice came out of the dusk. “Scratch that paint, and your ass is grass, Lonsdale.”
Alex grinned and waved to Bob Carey, who