"All right. I'll meet you at our place and then we can go in my car. Oh, and Crystal?"
"Yeah?"
"I would never cancel a date with you, no matter what else was going on," Laura said firmly. "I'll see you in about an hour and a half."
Crystal said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone, staring at it for a moment. Dinner with her family? Suddenly cleanup didn't seem so bad after all.
Crystal's thought that it would be a casual dinner were quickly dashed when she entered Gail's house and saw the table in the dining room decked out with a tablecloth and centerpiece. "Oh good, you're here," Gail said, coming out from the kitchen.
"Mom, Bobby and I can get the dinner cooking. You should be sitting down and resting," Laura protested, silently nudging Crystal toward the couch. "Nonsense. I may be tired but I'm fully capable of cutting a few potatoes," her mother argued, wiping her hands on her apron. "It's good to see you again, Crystal. Welcome to my home."
"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor," Crystal answered. "Is there anything I can do help?"
"As a matter of fact there is. If you open the cabinet there you'll find all the place settings. Be a dear and set the table. I'll have Bobby bring out the silverware and napkins." Gail removed her apron as she turned to her daughter. "Since you think I'm an invalid now, you can just march yourself out to the kitchen and help your brother with the gravy." She handed the apron to Laura. "Helen," she called. "The children are going to finish up dinner. Let's go sit on the veranda and enjoy the sunset."
"Right behind you," Helen said as she came through the swinging door from the kitchen. "Laura, check under the bar and see if there are any daiquiri mixes, will you dear?"
"I'm sure there's some," Gail agreed. "Laura, you'll find the blender down next to the stove and of course you know where to find thei.e.None for me, the doctor said I shouldn't touch alcohol with my medication. I'll have ani.e.tea and make sure you get something for your guest." Laura, still wondering how she changed from twenty eight to fifteen all of the sudden, nodded and shared a look with Crystal before disappearing into the kitchen.
Terrified of chipping the fine china, Crystal took the plates, cups and saucers out one at a time, setting them gingerly on the table. Bobby came into the dining room with a large wooden box. "Hey Crystal."
"Hi Bobby, how ya doing?"
"I think I've been sold into slavery but I'm not sure yet," he joked. "Mom and Aunt Helen have been on me all afternoon." He set the box on the table. "Don't know why we're going to all this trouble just for dinner. It's just you, Aunt Helen and Laura. Mom hasn't broken out the good plates since the last time Grandma came to visit." He opened the box, which easily was half as wide as it was long, to reveal a red velvet interior displaying a full set of silver eating utensils. "Good," he said. "At least I don't have to polish them."
There were a multitude of forks, spoons and knives in the set, along with several larger serving utensils. Bobby quickly distributed the silverware around the table, each place setting receiving two forks, three spoons and one butter knife. The box was stored away on the floor beneath the china cabinet and steak knives were taken from the drawer of the buffet. "Hey, you forgot the soup bowls."
"Oh." Crystal reached into the cabinet, her fingers barely touching the small bowls on the upper shelf.
"Not those. They're for desserts." He reached around her and pointed at the cluster of bowls tucked neatly away in the back. "Trust me, you'll love Mom's chicken and rice soup. I've got to see if Laura needs anything." As he walked past the table, Bobby stopped and frowned at the place settings. Crystal knew immediately she had done something incorrectly but to her relief all Laura's brother did was reverse the position of two spoons without comment and left the room.
Guess it's a good thing I don't throw dinner parties, eh? As she made her way around the table and correcting the order of the spoons, Crystal smiled at Bobby's thoughtfulness and tact. Just like his sister, she thought. Finishing up the setting of the table, Crystal decided to see how things were going in the kitchen.
"I know how to do this," Laura was saying as Crystal pushed her way through the swinging door and entered the kitchen. "But you're not doing it right. Mom uses a baster, not a brush," Bobby objected, holding the baster in his hand.
"I prefer the brush," Laura said calmly, dipping the brush in the juices and moving it over the top of the browning chicken. "But it's Mom's chicken."
"Bobby, do you really think Mom's going to be able to tell if I used a brush or a baster?" She noticed Crystal standing there. "Hi there. Is the table all set?"
"Yeah." Crystal looked at Bobby and smiled her silent thanks.
"Good," Laura said. "Probably about fifteen minutes more for the chicken and by then everything else will be ready."
"Good, just enough time for a cigarette."
"Hey, let me go get mine. I'll be right back. Don't go without me," Bobby said, moving past them and running upstairs to return a few minutes later with a blue pack in his hands. "All set."
"Okay," Crystal said.
"Wait, let's go out front. Aunt Helen doesn't know I smoke and Mom has a fit when I do it in front of her," he said, holding the swinging door open.
Crystal nodded and followed him out the front door.
The concrete and slate steps framed in red brick were cool, the sun having moved over to the other side of the house hours before. Still the pair sat down, Crystal passing her lighter to Bobby after getting her own cigarette going. "Thanks for earlier," she said, taking the lighter back.
"No prob," he said, exhaling a long plume of smoke. "I only know it because Mom drilled it into me and Laura years ago." "My mother preferred TV dinners," Crystal said, looking past the large elm to the quiet street. "Nice neighborhood."
Bobby snorted. "It's full of snobs. I'd rather kick it with the guys down on Second Street."
Knowing what part of the city Second Street was in, Crystal looked at Bobby. "Does your mother know you hang there?" She was answered with a hearty laugh.
"Are you kidding? She'd have a stroke thinking I was doing drugs or something," he said. "I tell her I'm going to the mall and she's happy with that." "Are you?" Crystal asked. When he didn't answer right away, she nodded and looked back at the street. "Uh huh. Be careful." "I didn't say
."
"You didn't have to," she interrupted. "I wasn't raised in suburbia, Bobby. I know the score. You're not hanging out on Second Street unless you're using or dealing." Debating how far she should go, Crystal softened her tone and looked at him seriously. "You know the condemned building near the Ladyslipper?"
"Yeah?"
Crystal took a deep breath. "About five years ago I was hanging out around there. In fact, I used to crash on the second floor of that building." "That place has been boarded up for as long as I can remember," he said.
"Yup," she agreed. "But a few nails aren't going to keep people out of an abandoned building when they want to get in." She shrugged. "It was close to the dive I worked at and my dealer." Crystal wondered briefly how much of her past Laura had shared with Bobby but decided that the risk was worth it. "I wasn't the only one hanging there. There was probably about twenty or twenty five of us that regularly stayed there."
"Wow," he gasped in surprise, clearly having trouble reconciling the woman before him with the person he was being told about. "Weren't you scared?"
Crystal thought about it for a few seconds. "I don't think so. By that point I don't think I cared about anything. All I wanted to do was sit back and get high then go work to earn some more money to buy more coke."
"Did you ever shoot up?" he asked. Crystal thought it an odd question but shook her head.
"No. I knew about AIDS and I didn't trust anyone. Have you?"
Bobby shook his head. "No but I've been told it gets you high fast."
"Jumping out an airplane without a parachute will get you to the ground faster but it's still not a good idea." Crystal looked deeply into his blue eyes. "It's like playing Russian Roulette with your life, Bobby. All the hard stuff. It'll happily kill you if it gets a chance. I've seen it." "You've seen someone die?"
"Two," she admitted. "One was this crack head named Melissa who OD'd. I think she got a bad batch because it hit her really quick. She was gone before the ambulance ever got there. The other was a guy I didn't know. I was woken up by the sound of a gunshot but I wasn't stupid enough to go check it out. They found the guy's body in the alley the next morning."
"Oh God, that's horrible," he said.
"That's what the hard stuff will do to you. That guy probably died because of a deal gone bad. It happens all the time out there. Bobby, you have everything going for you. You're young, good looking, smart, have a scholarship to a good school. You can be anything you want. Don't waste it by getting mixed up in coke." By the way he flinched Crystal knew she was right about the drug he was experimenting with.
Bobby tore the burning end off of his cigarette and put the filter in his pocket. "I've only done it a few times. Usually I just share a joint with a few friends."
"Are they the same friends who shared their coke with you?"
"Yeah, Tyrone brought it with him one day."
Crystal nodded knowingly. "Bet he didn't even charge you since it was your first time, right? Just a gift from a friend?"
"Yeah, his treat."
"For now. When he has you hooked there won't be any freebies." Crystal knew she was pushing but it was too important for her not to. "Look
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