Page 146 - Some Dance to Remember

116 Jack Fritscher

school and you read books and everything. I only made it into the begin-
ning of my sophomore year. Then there was all the trouble with the pic-
tures in the shower. I mean there was nothing wrong. I tried to explain
what was going on, but I’ve never been good at explanations, so they
expelled me and the boy who had the camera. Thom wants to help me
study for the GED.”
Their parents exchanged glances. “You didn’t tell us Sandy was non-
Catholic,” Annie Laurie said.
“I told you,” Thom said. “When I told you Sandy didn’t care whether
a priest married us or not.”
“That didn’t mean she was non-Catholic,” Ryan said. “Just that she
wasn’t a very good Catholic. To us, I mean.” He was learning how one
thing can mean two things.
“That’s what we presumed,” Annie Laurie said. She turned a hard
stare at her younger son. Thom, like their father, had nothing to say, and
Ryan knew better than to say anything. He knew he shouldn’t ask ques-
tions like how many years in a row Sandy Gully had won hands down the
World’s Ugliest Woman Contest. The poor girl wasn’t a worthy opponent.
His brother was. Ryan couldn’t hold back. His brother in three insistent
weeks had turned their dedicated model of a Catholic family into a situa-
tion comedy. This was not the way it was supposed to be. The family that
prays together stays together. Until in-laws appear on the horizon.
Their life inside that car on that freeway on their first night in Cali-
fornia had become very Ricky and Lucy and Fred and Ethel. Ryan looked
directly into his mother’s face and repeated her very own words to her:
“Just think. They might have children. Isn’t that wonderful?” He looked
down into Margaret Mary’s face.
“Isn’t that wonderful,” he said to her. “You and I are going to have
little nieces and nephews. Little itsy-bitsy, teeny-weenie, little polka-dot
nieces and nephews...”
“...with,” Margaret Mary blurted out, “great big noses and skinny
legs.”
Sandy Gully turned on Margaret Mary. “You might be an aunt before
you’re five years old.” She pronounced aunt as ant.
“I don’t want to be an ant!” Margaret Mary screamed.
“We plan to start a family right away.” Sandy pulled both guns from
her holster. She was not going to back down from the fray. She had ovaries.
“You’re good,” Ryan said. “You’re real good.”
“So are you,” Sandy said.
“Wrong,” Ryan said. “I’m better than real good.”

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