He gave Ellen a peck on the cheek.
“See you tonight, honey,” he said.
“Be ready to fire up the grill when I get home.” “Why?” Ellen asked. “Are you picking up some steaks on the way back from the pier?”
“Very funny,” he said as he left the porch to walk out to his car.
Shelly carried a bowl of fruit onto the porch.
“Let’s eat,” she said, and the four of them sat down at the picnic table.
“How are your girls doing in France?” Daria asked Ellen, scooping some of the fruit onto her plate.
“Oh, they’re loving it. It sounds like they’re doing more shopping and man hunting than studying, though.” Ellen laughed.
“I’m going to miss not having them around this summer,” Daria said honestly. Ellen’s daughters were nothing like their mother, and they always tried to include Shelly in their activities, despite the fact that they were five years younger.
“I can’t say that I miss them,” Ellen said.
“It’s finally peaceful at our house. No loud music. No teenagers running in and out of the house day and night.” She suddenly looked at her watch.
“How come you’re not working today?” she asked.
“You always used to do your EMT work on Saturdays, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m taking a break from it,” Daria said.
Ellen looked surprised.
“Supergirl’s getting too old for that regimen, huh?” she asked.
“Something like that,” Daria said, taking the easy way out.
“And where’s Pete?” Ellen asked.
“Feels strange not to have him hanging around here.”
“We broke up,” Daria said.
“You’re kidding.” Ellen looked genuinely sympathetic.
“You were so perfect for each other,” she said.
“He was your type, I always thought. You need that super masculine sort of guy, you being the athletic type yourself. You only look feminine next to a man like Pete.”
“Well, it just wasn’t meant to be,” Daria said, thinking that Ellen had even managed to turn her condolences into an insult.
Daria heard the slamming of the porch door across the cul-de-sac and instantly turned in the direction of the sound, as if she’d been waiting for it. Rory was walking across his yard to his car. Daria extracted herself from the picnic-table bench and opened the porch door.
“Hey!” she called.
“Do you want to go to the athletic club later?”
Rory stopped to look at her, his car door half-open.
“I have company coming today,” he said.
“Oh, okay. See ya.” She closed the door and took her seat at the table again, trying to mask her disappointment. She wondered if “company” meant Grace.
Ellen was staring across the cul-de-sac.
“Is that…?”
“Rory Taylor.” Shelly finished the sentence for her.
“Well, my, my, my,” Ellen said.
“After all these years.”
“He’s going to find my real mother,” Shelly said.
“He’s going to try, hon,” Daria corrected her.
“You know he might not be able to.”
“Well, that’s an asinine waste of time,” Ellen said.
“What does asinine mean?” Shelly asked.
“Oh, come on, Shelly, you know that word,” Ellen said.
“Stop playing stupid.”
“I don’t know it,” Shelly protested.
“It means, what on earth is the point in him trying to find your mother?” Ellen said.
