The Life of John Smith Chapters 5 & 6

Chapter 5 The Picnic

As I started the drive to Carol’s house on Elm Street I wondered about mother. First this morning she did not come out of her room. It was nearly nine when I knocked and said, “Mother, I apologize.”

After a short silence she opened the door a crack, but not far enough for me to see her and asked, “What are you apologizing for.”

“I thought I did something wrong,” I said.

“I am the only one who did anything wrong.” A silence followed, then she asked, “Can we just forget it and pretend nothing happened last night, please?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“We don’t have much time. I have a picnic lunch to pack and you must meet Carol’s mother. I’ll be ready to meet Carol after ten. Oh! Here are the rest of the rubbers,” she said handing the two packets to me and closing her door.

Can I forget what mother and I did? I don’t think so. Fucking is hard to forget. In fact, I don’t want to forget. I only hope if I ever get to do that with Carol or any other girl it will be as good. That was really, really, good last night. And there is Carol’s house.

I knocked on the door, it was answered by an older version of Carol. She held her hand out to me and said, “You must be John. I am Brenda Martin, Carol’s mother. Please come in. It will be a couple minutes until Carol is ready.” I shook her hand and stepped in. As I turned to look at her, I realized she had pink hair and was dressed in pink shoes, pink skin-tight jeans, and a pink button up blouse. The blouse had enough buttons unbuttoned to reveal a lot of cleavage. Hanging part way down into that cleavage was a polished pink stone suspended by a gold chain around her neck. The gold chain contrasted with her pink skin.

Before I could think of anything to say, I heard Carol’s voice from behind me. “John, I should have warned you that my mother has a thing for pink.” I turned and there was Carol in blue jeans and a pale blue button up blouse. I noted it was buttoned up with only the top button unbuttoned.

I turned back to Brenda and said, “Mrs. Martin, I noticed that pink stone, is that…”

Interrupting me she said coldly, “Pink quartz.” Turning to Carol she asked, “Did you think about sunburn when you put on that short sleeve shirt?”

“We are just going on a picnic, not bathing on the beach,” Carol said obviously irritated with her mother.

“Okay deer, but don’t stay out in the sun too long,” Brenda cautioned.

Carol turned to me saying, “I’m ready.”

“John be sure to get her home before dark. Her father and I worry about all the drunks out there after dark on a Saturday night,” Brenda said.

“Mom, just stop,” Carol said as she pushed me out the door pulling it shut behind her.

I had expected to have to answer all kinds of questions and make numerous promises, but it had appeared that Carol and her mother had argued. Once I had started driving, I could not resist asking, “Did you and your mother have an argument?”

“It was that obvious,” Carol said, “She wanted me to wear one of the pink outfits she just bought me.”

Thinking back, I do remember her wearing pink. I commented, “You do look good in pink.”

“Well thank you, but I am not going to wear pink all the time like her. It is almost like if I do not wear pink that I am a rebel,” she said as she scooted up close to me. Then asked, “How about your mom? Are you on good terms with her?”

How do I answer that, I wondered? “Yes, but sometimes she changes her mind, so I don’t know what to expect. Just like now, I don’t have any idea what she will be like. I expect she will be nice to you, but there is a chance she won’t,” I said.

“I hope she likes me but if she doesn’t will it make a difference to you?” she asked.

I almost said that I must live with my mother but instead I said, “Why should it?”

“I know, why should we care what our mothers think. It’s not like we are married. We are just friends,” she said.

“Amazing,” I said, “You said what I thought.”

“Well then we are agreed,” she said as she snuggled up even closer to me.

Just then I turned into our driveway and said, “We are here.”

“Oh, for some reason I imagined you lived in a big mansion on a hill,” she said.

“You’re joking,” I chuckled. It was amazing to me how she had lightened the tension by that remark.

As we entered through the kitchen door with me leading Carol by the hand, I saw mother just placing the picnic basket on a chair at the table. She was dressed in her newest and best dress that I thought flattered her by its color and cut. Her hair and makeup were perfectly done. Everything was perfect except she had on no shoes or stockings.

She spoke before I could. “This must be Carol. Johnny, you didn’t tell me she was so beautiful.”

I was speechless. She worked so hard last night so I would be prepared for something that I doubted would happen and then she surprised me in this way. There was no awkward moment of silence because Carol responded with, “You are so kind, Mrs. Smith. Thank you for the compliment but I know I am still just an awkward teenager.”

“Oh, darling Carol, if you grow more beautiful, my Johnny will be hard pressed to measure up,” mother gushed.

I wished there was some way to stop this. I picked up the picnic basket, took Carol’s hand, and started for the door.