At eighteen, I was not much interested in a relationship that did not involve sex, and Suzi had made it abundantly clear that she was not interested in pursuing it yet. Still, she was very attractive and we had a lot in common, so I had been seeing her from time to time in the hopes that things might eventually turn out for us.
One morning, she phoned to ask me over for dinner. I gave her an ambiguous answer. It was early in the day, and I didn't want to make plans yet. Later I began thinking that I should have been kinder to her, and began to feel sorry. By noon, I was at the highway with my thumb in the air, planning on apologizing for the distracted manner in which I had dealt with her invitation.
Due to poor luck in hitching, it took almost half an hour to get to her neighborhood, only seven or eight miles from my home. I walked the half block from the main street to her house, finally beginning to worry that she wouldn't be happy to see me after my conduct on the phone. When I rang the bell, her mother came to the door, seemed surprised to see me, but opened the door and invited me in.
I had met her once, briefly, a couple of years earlier when I picked Suzi up to take her to a party. There had been little opportunity for conversation then, so I barely knew her. This time I had the opportunity to pay more attention. That stupid old adage occurred to me. You know the one: a girl will grow up to look like her mom. I remember thinking that Suzi had nothing to worry about. Like Suzi, her mom was short, slender, dark-haired and pretty. Today she was dressed in a light dress and had her hair pulled back.
"Suzi's gone out shopping," she told me. "She and her friend left about half an hour ago." I gave myself a mental kick for not phoning before I came. "But they should be home in an hour or so."
I was reluctant to get back on the road, expecting more poor luck hitching, so I accepted her invitation to stay and wait. We sat in front of the television and watched reruns of old comedies for most of an hour before the phone rang. It was Suzi. She told her mom that she was going to her friend's house for dinner. When Suzi's mom told me, I said I might as well go home, but she said she was thawing game hens for dinner and since Suzi wouldn't be there to eat hers, she would be happy if I would stay and eat it.
It was okay with me. I still didn't want to hitch home, and I thought I might be able to cadge a ride from Suzi's mom if I was lucky. Besides, I didn't have anything else to do.
We ate dinner with Suzi's kid sister and brother, both of whom were a lot younger than her (maybe seven or eight, not old enough to notice, really). After dinner the kids' father picked them up for the weekend. It was the first I knew that Suzi's parents were separated.
When the kids were gone, Suzi's mom smiled at me and suggested we go back to watching television. It was okay with me. I probably watched more television that afternoon than I had watched in a month before, but it was diverting. Not too diverting. I can't recall a bit of what we watched that night.
Maybe an hour after we sat down, she got up and went into the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink?" she shouted back to me.
"Sure," I figured she was talking soda.
"I'm having a screwdriver," she told me. "Is that all right for you?"
It was the first time I can remember that any friends' parent offered me alcohol. I tried to be cool. "Yeah, that'd be great."
Moments later she called back, "Come show me how much vodka you want."
