Yellow Brick... Sandwich?

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          This was marvelous news! I could hardly believe it. "What really persuaded him in the end?"

            "Family. You and his siblings and myself, of course, mean the world to him. He never, ever, ever wants anything to happen to anyone he loves." Her eyes crinkled as she smiled.

                I could almost dance with joy. I popped out of bed and gave Ma a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you oh-so much for being the mother I need. I love you. Now I've got something I need to do."

                 With lightning speed I changed my grimy clothes into a bright pink frock with a cream cardigan, my favorite saddle shoes adorning my dancing feet. I jumped around, slathering my scrapes with lotion and brushing my hair with care, avoiding the goose egg on the back of my head. It had already decreased in size, and my anxiety-spurned headache had vanished. I felt fresh.

                    I tap danced down the stairs and hurdled over Niamh's mop. I could barely contain my excitement as I slid into the kitchen where Cal sat, morosely chomping on a grilled cheese.

                     "Cal!" I pounced on him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He dropped his half-eaten sandwich in alarm.

                      "What's wrong? Is it your head? Are you bleeding?" He demanded, scanning my body for wounds.

                        "Yes. But not in the way you think."

                           He choked. "What?"

                           I blushed profusely. How could I say that? No respectable girl says that! Years out of society had ruined my manners! My giddiness was overflowing and I was just blurting things out!

                           "Nevermind, nevermind! Forget what I said. We need to celebrate! I'm so proud of you!"

                             Cal smiled and looked shyly at me. "You're proud of me? I thought you were mad at me."

                              "No, I'm not mad at you, silly! I'm so happy for you! Now c'mon, stop eating that thing. It looks like a brick painted yellow."

                                "I tried my best. This is my comfort food."

                                 I laughed and tugged him out his chair. "Let's go, big guy. Show me what real couples do on dates."

                                   His ears turned pink and scarlet creeped up his collar.

                                  I cocked my head in amused confusion.  "Why are you red as a tomato, silly goose? I mean, real, normal couples don't have dates where the guy pulls a gun on her dad or they meet at a park at midnight because he broke the bars on her window."

                                    "I thought that was romantic. Oh no! Not the gun part! I mean the other stuff. The note took me two hours." He blushed even deeper, and I giggled.

                                    "How about we see a movie? I haven't been in ages." I hooked my arm in his as we waltzed out.

                                    "Sounds good to me. I heard Walt Disney has a new film. I loved his last one- oh, um, no I mean Nora loved it. I just watched it with her." He'd reached a record shade of fire hydrant. I loved how he talked freely with me, joked with me.

                               I was so ready to start over with a college boy. Why! I could even look into college myself! It's not unheard of. And Charlotte might have mentioned a certain all-girls school down the street from a certain University of Notre Dame.

                                       I belly-laughed, and, wow, I'd never felt so joyful.

                                       Knock on wood. Last time I said that, I ended up in a cellar.

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