Lixa started to blush.
Chapter 8
The Present
Cole waited outside near the mulberry tree for his father to pick him up after baseball practice. The earlier events had left him with a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand, he had thrown a few pretty good pitches against one of the best hitters on the team. On the other hand, if he didn’t increase his speed or learn how to catch the edges of the plate better, he was going to be serving up tee drill balls for the batter to knock out of the park. At least most of the team had already left the field when he threw himself to the ground to avoid getting hit by the ball.
A horn beeped a couple of times behind him. He turned and saw his dad’s Ford truck. Picking up his book sack, he swung it over his shoulder and opened the truck door.
“Not so fast,” Mark said.
“What?”
“Brush your butt off before you get in. There’s dirt all over it.”
The book sack went on the floorboard, and Cole commenced slapping at his backside until the clouds of dust subsided. “I think I’m good now.” He hopped into the truck and shut the door firmly.
Mark pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. “Why didn’t you change after practice?”
“Uh, I didn’t want you to wait on me. I want you to stop by the store, and I have a science project I have to do tonight before it gets dark. So, time’s kinda short.”
“Oh, well, sorry I’m a little late picking you up. I had a job at work that took longer than I thought. What do you need from the store? Something for the science project?”
An unusual grin grew across Cole’s face. “In a way.”
Mark turned a raised eyebrow over at Cole. “What’s that smile for? What’s going on that you’re not telling me?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just the International Space Station is going to be flying over the house tonight, and I’m going to video it and track it on my laptop.”
After a few seconds, Mark said, “And?”
“Uh, and Charlotte Meadows is coming over to watch it with me. We have to do our science projects in pairs.”
“Oh, I see,” Mark said. “Charlotte Meadows…I don’t think I’ve heard you mention her name before.”
“Well, she barely even knew I existed, I think, until today.”
“What happened today for her to notice you?”
“Nothing much. I just got up enough nerve to ask her to come over and do the project. About the only other time I’ve talked to her, I just said hi.”
“That’s, that’s good, son. Glad to see you step out there and put it on the line. You know, you can’t catch a fish if you don’t throw bait in the water.”
“I don’t see how this is like fishing.”
“It’s a metaphor. You have to try to accomplish a task if you ever hope to one-day succeed. Emotions are hard for some people to risk. You don’t need to be that guy. There’s no harm in asking any girl out, although you’re too young for that, but you get what I mean. You’re going to get some rejections. Heck, you might get a string of rejections before one of them says yes. That’s, okay. What I’m telling you is, don’t let a chance to catch a girl’s attention slip by, because you may never get that chance again. And, if you get rejected, continue on like it never happened, and wait for the next opportunity.”
“Okay, Dad, I will.” Cole reached over and turned up the volume on the radio. He had enough of fatherly advice for one afternoon.
*
The grocery store was on the way home. Fortunately, his dad had let him go into the store alone and didn’t slow him down. He was on the clock, and everything had to be just right before Charlotte showed up at his house.
After a quick shower and just the proper amount of gel in his hair, he put on a clean pair of jeans and his favorite shirt he wore to look nice. He had abandoned the thought to splash on some of his dad’s aftershave. He was certain James Bond would wear something more exotic and decided that smelling like Irish Spring soap was manly enough.
The real work started in the kitchen. Cole had bought carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes, celery, cauliflower, and broccoli. The veggies had to be washed, dried, and cut into bite-sized portions. Slicing those carrots into sticks was the most difficult. The tubers were hard, and he wished he had a sharper knife. If he was going to start preparing food he was going to have to learn how to sharpen knives too.
After prepping the veggies, Cole found a platter in the cabinet that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. After a quick washing, he had it ready to arrange the snacks. He chose a large bowl for the center and spooned out a container of hummus. Next, he found two smaller matching bowls and placed them strategically on the platter. Feta cheese went into one bowl and Kalamata olives into the other. Veggies of equal proportion went around the center bowl, filling the entire space.
“I thought you were having a girl over. I didn’t know the entire baseball team would be here,” his dad, Mark said, popping unexpectedly into the kitchen.
“Come on, Dad. I don’t know what kind of vegetables Charlotte likes. Hummus is just bean dip. Everybody likes bean dip.”
“That’s some spread you’ve made there. Where did you get the idea from? The only things I’ve seen you make in the kitchen are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Pop-Tarts with ice cream on top.”
“After lunch, I searched the internet on my phone and found this. I wanted to serve something tasty and fairly healthy.”
“What’s that smell?” his dad asked.
“Smell? Oh, I guess you mean the feta cheese.”
“Smells like feet.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Cole defensively said. “Feta cheese is supposed to complement the hummus.”
“Okay, I’ll just eat the bean dip. I’ve never figured you to care about cooking. Chef Cole, I like it.” Mark sauntered over to the refrigerator, opened the door, and pulled out a beer. Popping the top, he pointed the bottom of the bottle to the ceiling and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You know, not everything on that plate is a vegetable.”
“Really? You mean like the olives?”
“Well, olives are fruit, but I meant more like the tomatoes.”
“Yeah, I think I might have heard that before. Tomatoes are fruits and not vegetables.”
“And the cucumbers too. Cucumbers are fruit.”
“Okay, got it,” Cole said, sounding a bit on the sassy side.
“If it comes from a flower and has seeds, like watermelons and green peppers, it’s a fruit. If it’s another part of a plant, then it’s a vegetable. Carrots are roots, broccoli and cauliflower are stems.”
Cole cocked his head to the side, feeling like his dad had some ulterior motive behind this conversation.
“And you know how flowers are made, don’t you?” Mark said, his face blushing a light shade of red.
“Uh, Dad. You’re not going to tell me about the birds and the bees right now, are you?”
“What? Nah, nah, that’s not what I was going to do.”
“Good.”
“I mean, well, unless, you know, you’d like to have that conversation?”
“Dad, I’m fourteen. I’m pretty sure I know how things work.”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want you to have any bad information. There’re a lot of myths about sex, and I don’t want you to get any wrong ideas.”
“We learned about sex in the sixth grade. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
After what sounded like a sigh of relief, Mark said, “Okay, but if you ever have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. There’s nothing wrong with the human body and how it works. There’re just some social standards that should be followed.”
“Believe me, if I have any questions, I’ll ask.”
“Good.”
“So, Charlotte and her mom should be here soon.”
“Okay, do you want me to go hide in my room? That would be rude, but I’ll give you some privacy if you’d like.”
“Not a problem,” Mark said, still glued against the kitchen counter.
“So, are you going to change clothes?”
“What’s wrong with these clothes? They’re not dirty.” Mark still wore his work outfit, a khaki fire retardant shirt, and blue jeans.
“Your jeans are okay, but can you at least change your shirt? You need to wear something a little more…welcoming,” Cole said.
“Okay, if it puts you a little more at ease, I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Mark took his weight off the kitchen counter, chugging beer to power himself toward his room.
Cole yelled, “And shave, Dad. Don’t forget to shave.”
*
The big hand on the clock pointed to 12 and the little hand at 7. Charlotte wasn’t late, yet. Cole looked between the curtains and down the driveway, expecting to see her mom’s car any second.
The clock’s big hand traveled past the 5, then the 10, and then 15. At this point, it looked like Charlotte wasn’t coming. He had gone to all this trouble and not even a phone call to let him know.
“Maybe something came up and she couldn’t make it,” Mark said. He stood in the kitchen doorway that led to the hall.
Cole abandoned his watch, and with his head lowered, walked over to the table. “I guess.”
“I guess you’ll have to do the science project alone.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Dad. We have to work in pairs to get credit.”
“Well, at least we have something different to eat tonight,” Mark said.
“I’m not hungry,” Cole said in a low voice, his lips barely moving.
Light streaming in the window from behind Cole faded and then reappeared.
“Oh, I think your appetite will return shortly,” Mark said.
Cole didn’t know what was up with his dad. This was no time to play some silly mind game. Charlotte had stood him up, and he was just going to have to face it. Do like his dad had said earlier, after a rejection, take a step back, and then try again.
“A young girl and a woman about my age just drove up our driveway. You better go answer the door.”
“Huh?” Cole whipped his head around to the front window. He just caught sight of two females walking past, heading for the front door.
Cole bolted across the kitchen past the doorway leading to the living room. The doorbell rang just as he arrived at the front foyer. They were here! Charlotte didn’t stand him up. He took a split second to straighten his shirt, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
“Hey Cole,” Charlotte said.
The young girl’s dark brown hair hung down to her chest, framing a face handmade by God himself. Her big brown eyes were a window into her soul, where nectar dripped from beautiful flowers. She held a plate covered with plastic wrap in front of her.
“Hey Charlotte,” Cole finally said.
“I’m sorry we’re late. It’s my fault. I wanted to bake some chocolate chip cookies, and it took longer than I thought,” Charlotte said.
“Late? Oh, I didn’t notice,” Cole lied.
“This is my mom, Lori.”
Charlotte’s mom had been standing mostly behind her daughter. The two were near the same height, so Cole hadn’t had a good look at her. She leaned over to the side. “Hi Cole, pleased to meet you.”
“It’s nice meeting you too.”
“Invite them to come in,” Mark said from the kitchen doorway.
Cole snapped his head around, and with an edge of sassiness, said, “I was just going to do that, Dad.”
Turning back to the guests, he said, “Come on in.”
The corners of Cole’s lips nearly touched his ears as he led the guests into the kitchen, where his dad had backed up into an open space to give them room to enter and greet them.
“Oh look, someone baked cookies,” Mark said. “Just put them on the table.” He turned his gaze to Lori. “Hi, I’m Mark Rainwater.” His hands remained by his side. Cole knew his dad believed it wasn’t proper to offer a woman a hand to shake unless she offered hers first.
A polite smile etched on Lori’s dark cherry lips. It was obvious which parent Charlotte took after. Both she and her mom shared the straight dark brown hair and eyes. Both had long legs and a slim but curvy shape. “Hello, I’m Lori Meadows. Pleased to meet you.” She extended her right hand.
Mark reached up and gently took her hand, sucked in his gut, and gave it two quick shakes. Letting go, he turned his gaze to Charlotte. “You must be Charlotte.”
“Yes, sir. Pleased to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Mark said.
Lori turned her bottom lip a bit to the side, and said, “You look familiar. Do you work out at Club Fitness in town?”
Mark’s chest swole, and he straightened his shoulders. “Ha, uh, no. No, I don’t. I mean I should be working out. Being a single parent and all, after work, I have to run Cole around when he has something to do and take care of other chores around the house. I just don’t make time to work out.”
“I understand where you’re coming from. I’m a single parent too. I can’t wait until Charlotte is old enough to drive,” Lori said. “I have to make myself find time to work out.”
“I can’t wait until I’m old enough to drive, too,” Charlotte said.
Everyone slightly chuckled.
Cole didn’t like the way the adults were dominating the conversation. This wasn’t a social visit where the kids were just room ornaments. “We have time to eat some snacks before the Space Station flys over.” Cole stepped over to a cabinet and retrieved four salad plates and a bag of chips, and then placed them on the table, next to a stack of napkins.
“Charlotte, Miss Meadows, please help yourself.” Cole got a large bowl off the counter and poured the bag of chips into it. He sat that on the table, and said, “These are pita chips. You’re supposed to eat hummus with pita bread but I thought pita chips would be better.”
“This looks amazing, and what a nice presentation. Mark, you must have worked all afternoon preparing this,” Lori said. She picked up two plates and handed one to Charlotte.
“I’d love to take credit for the spread here. But it was Cole who dreamed up the menu, bought the groceries, and made all of this himself.”
“Really, that’s quite impressive, young man. Maybe you could teach Charlotte a thing or two in the kitchen.” Lori spooned some hummus on Charlotte’s plate and then her own.
“I hate cooking. It’s boring. Baking is more of my thing,” Charlotte said.
“We need some drinks,” Mark said. “Lori, what can I get you?”
Oh, great. Cole had spent so much time planning the food menu he totally forgot what to think of to drink.
Charlotte’s mom had already crunched down on a pita chip dipped in hummus. “Mmm, this is good. A white wine would go with this.”
Taken slightly aback, Mark said, “Eh, I’m not much of a wine drinker. But, I do have Michelob Ultra.”
“That’s the one beer I will drink. But only one for me. I am driving, after all,” Lori said.
“Charlotte, Cole? We have Coke, Mountain Dew, bottled water…I can make some instant lemonade.”
“A Mountain Dew for me, please,” Charlotte said.
Well, crisis avoided. “Mountain Dew,” Cole said.
Chips and vegetables dived into hummus and cheese, while Mark served the drinks. Charlotte seemed to enjoy a little bit of everything. Her mom favored the cauliflower and cucumbers.
“This feta cheese is dynamite with the hummus. I don’t think I’ve had the two together before,” Lori said.
“Yes, the feta cheese compliments the hummus,” Mark said. He sheepishly grinned and turned a furtive glance at Cole, whose head wilted to one side and shot him judging eyes that asked, Really?
The conversation lasted a good half hour, with general exchanges of information about where Mark and Lori worked, Cole’s involvement with the baseball team, and Charlotte’s aspirations to become a Computer Engineer.
To Cole’s relief, his dad never brought up his passion for the paranormal. He didn’t want to have to explain himself to Lori’s mom. She might have asked too many questions. Maybe even have made fun of him, like many other adults had, though he hoped not. Plus, he wanted to connect with Charlotte on a different level. She was good in science and seemed to enjoy the class. Science was his favorite subject. He wanted her to respect him on a level of intelligence as well as to catch her eye.
The group had put a pretty good dent in the food. As far as he could tell, his efforts had not gone unappreciated. What a relief! He found he did like mixing the feta with hummus but didn’t care for it as much when he ate it by itself. If he ever had the opportunity again to entertain Charlotte, he’d have to come up with a different menu. Not because he was disappointed but to show her that there was more to him than just repeating the same old things. He wanted to keep her guessing and hoped to delight her every step of the way.
“The Space Station will be overhead in less than fifteen minutes. I’ve got everything set up on the patio. Charlotte and I really need to go outside now,” Cole said.
“Wait,” Lori pulled the plastic off the cookies. “Leave a few in here for us, and take the rest with you outside.”
Mark reached over and pulled a salad plate from the cabinet.
“How many would you like, Mark? There’s plenty, so don’t be shy,” Lori said.
“Those look good. I’ll take four.”
“I’d like to take four, too. But, it’s easier to work off two at the gym than four,” Lori said. She picked up the plate of cookies, and with a clean fork, shoved six cookies onto the empty plate. “Here you go.” Lori gave the plate to Charlotte.
“The patio door is this way,” Cole said. He picked up his drink, and Charlotte’s, and led the way. For a moment Cole felt guilty leaving his dad alone with Lori’s mom. After all, he didn’t even ask him, if the situation arose, if he would mind entertaining her throughout the experiment. A quick glance back evaporated any concern. Mark and Lori were talking like old friends. His dad’s face beamed with interest.
Genetic Abomination Page 8