Page 13 of The Playboy and the Widow
“I’m practicing so I look cool. See.” She turned to face her mother, her mouth twisted in a sarcastic sneer that would have wilted daffodils.
“You look terrible.”
“Great. That’s exactly the look I’m going for.”
“Joan, sweetheart,” she said with growing impatience, “I just put five hundred dollars down at the orthodontist’s so that you could have lovely, straight teeth.”
Joan stared at her blankly.
“Do you mean to tell me I’m spending thousands of dollars to straighten the teeth of a child who plans never to smile?”
“Boy, are you a grouch,” Joan announced as she jumped down off the toilet. “What’s the matter, Mom, is Aunt Flo visiting?”
It took Diana a moment to make the connection with her monthly cycle. When she did, her knees started to shake. In an even, controlled voice, she turned toward her daughter. “When did you learn about Aunt Flo?”
“A year ago.”
“But...” So much for the neat packet she’d mailed away for that so carefully explained everything in the simple terms that a fifth grader would understand.
“I figured you’d get around to telling me one of these days,” Joan said, undisturbed.
“Oh, dear.” Diana sat on the edge of the tub.
“It’s no big deal, Mom.”
“Who told you... when?” Diana’s voice shook as she realized that her little girl wasn’t so little anymore. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
“Honestly, Mom, I would have, but you think a fifth grader is too young for panty hose.”
“You are!”
“See what I mean?” Joan declared, shaking her head.
“Who told you?”
“The library...”
“The Kent library?” Good grief, it wasn’t safe to take her daughter into the local library anymore.
“You see,” Joan explained, “we had this discussion in fourth grade that sort of left me hanging, so I checked out a few books.”
“And the books told you everything?”
Joan nodded and started to speak, but was interrupted by her younger sister, who stuck her head in the bathroom door.
“I’m starved—what’s for dinner?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Katie placed her hands on her hips. “Is it going to be another one ofthosedinners?”
“Can’t you see we’re having a serious mother-daughter discussion here?” Joan shouted. “Get lost, dog breath.”
“Joan!” Diana cried, and quickly diverted an argument. “Don’t call your sister that. Katie, I’m hungry, too. Why don’t you check what’s in the refrigerator? I’m open for suggestions.”
“Okay,” Katie cried eagerly, and hurried back into the kitchen.
“Are you mad?” Joan asked in a subdued voice. “I didn’t tell you before, well, because... you know.”
