You'll Just Know

Chapter 5

The next morning I was up early. Very early. Sleep was a nuisance. I had gotten home at midnight the night before, endured the mandatory "If you're going to be late, then call first" speech by my parents, and had finally, somehow, forced myself to go to sleep around one-thirty. Now I was up with the sun.

I kept replaying the conversation with Wendy in my head, trying to recall every phrase, every nuance. It was vivid in my mind. Every word sharp and unforgettable. When I thought about it all, my stomach fluttered excitedly. I sauntered around the sleeping house, not even realizing that I was whistling to myself.

I thought that everyone was asleep (it couldn't have been later than 6 a.m.), but I found Sandra lounging with her feet up on the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the latest batch of want ads. At twenty, she had no interest whatsoever in college, and was entirely undecided about employment as well. Mom and Dad were waiting anxiously to see what she was going to do, but they knew if they offered any suggestions that she would turn them down just on principle. She was undecided and stubborn… a volatile combination.

She didn't look up at me as I came humming merrily into the kitchen.

"What?" she asked, eyes still fixed on the paper as she sipped her coffee, "Did you get lucky with your new girlfriend last night?"

I was pulling the good sugary junk cereal from one of the cabinets (Mom had finally gotten most of the kitchen in order). "Ha. Ha." I replied, finding a bowl.

She turned the newspaper page loudly. "You sure seem. . . chipper this morning. Don't you usually get up around noon? This is my quiet time."

"I was tired of sleeping."

Sandra grunted. "There's a new one."

I sat down at the table beside her and pushed her feet to the floor so I could set my bowl down. She shot me a look, but I ignored her.

Once I added milk to my cereal, a strange chemical reaction began to take place. The milk was turning purple, just like the box promised. Cool. I grabbed a spoon and crunched down loudly.

"I had dinner at the Camerons’ last night." I said conversationally.

Sandra tipped down the corner of the paper to glance at me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She pursed her lip and nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm," then went back to her paper.

I chomped my purple cereal. A moment later, Sandra tipped the edge of the paper down again to look at me. "Did you get to talk to. . ."

"Yeah." I smiled. "We went for a walk."

She nodded again. "Is that why you were late?"

I nodded, still smiling.

Sandra cocked her eyebrow. "So was it a… good talk?"

I nodded again. "It was incredible."

My face was turning red and I felt Sandra smiling amusedly at me. She stuck her hand out, palm up.

With my good arm, I reached across and smacked it five.

"Way to go, little bro." she said.

I grinned cheerfully and sipped the purple milk my cereal had left behind.

*                *                *

I waited until what I deemed a socially acceptable hour for a Sunday morning visit to Josh. 11:00 a.m. If the Camerons were still asleep by then, then something was dreadfully wrong with their family, I decided. Besides, I had so much energy! I couldn't possibly sit still for another hour.