Page 19 of Places in Time
“Every time I’ve tried to feel I’ve—”
“Now, now.” Not-ginger-Ginger shook her head and made a very familiar ‘tsk” sound. “Let’s not let the past taint the future. What’s done is done. There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”
I glanced at the wall to see if she was reading proverbs at random.
“I’m lactose intolerant,” the woman said with a straight face.
“I’m sure you can find a way to keep a positive attitude anyway, dear.”
I laughed.
My mother gave me a withering look.
“Oh come on. That was funny.”
She sighed resignedly and reached her arm toward not-ginger-Ginger. “Moonbeam, come meet my son.”
After glancing over to us, not-ginger-Ginger pressed her hands together and gave a slight bow to the woman she was abandoning. “Namaste,” she said, somehow making the word sound like, “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.” Or maybe that was in my head because of how I had scripted her character’s role inMy Delusional Drive.
I plastered a polite smile on my face and prepared for a cursory introduction in order to appease my mother.
“Ethan Baker, this is Moonbeam Horowitz.”
I kept a straight face and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
She did that hands pressed together, bow thing.
“Ethan came to take his father and me to lunch.”
“Enjoy yourselves,” she said with a smile.
My mother linked her arm through mine and we walked toward the door. My father opened it, but before we could step outside, a group of people walked in.
“Moonbeam!” one of them said. “Your hair looks great! When did you go from red to black?”
I tripped over my own feet and flipped around.
“Just this morning,” she answered as she flicked her gaze to me. “The color seemed better for this place in time.”
My jaw dropped and I reared back.
“There’s Jude,” my father said. He put his hand on my back and nudged me forward. “He’s double parked. Let’s go.”
