Suzie’s House 411 : You Have Friends?

Sophie was dead on her feet when she got home. If she hadn’t had Emma to deal with, she’d have gone straight to bed. No doubt Emma would be hungry. Maybe it was time Sophie taught her to cook.

She opened the door to find the living room filled with people, all of whom excused themselves and left before Sophie could say a word. It felt like she’d walked smack into a whirlwind.

“What was that?”

Emma shrugged. She looked away, and her mouth turned down in a wobbly little frown. She had one of those strange masks that had been turning up on her walls held behind her back as though she didn’t want it seen even though she’d been wearing it a moment before.

Sophie sighed in exasperation. Her poor, poor little girl had always been like this. She would never say what was really on her mind. At least she wasn’t running off to the bathroom to throw up anymore.

“Who were those people?”

“My… my friends!” Emma looked up, her eyes wide as though surprised. She grinned.

“The two kids I can understand, but a two grown men? One must be as old as your father and the other could be your grandfather.”

“Yeah.” Emma looked at the floor again.

“So… who are they? They didn’t threaten you, did they?”

“Um.. the FBI guy is Drew. He lives in Suzie’s House, same as Gene.”

“Wait? Who is Gene?”

“He’s another friend,” Emma muttered.

Sophie sighed. This could take all day. She set her purse down on the couch and went to the kitchen to cook. She had expected Emma to slip away quietly and intended to grill her more closely over the dinner table. Instead, Emma followed her to the kitchen.

“Um. I… I guess I better tell you everything.”

Sophie’s heart dropped. She didn’t look directly at Emma. Instead, she focused on the chore of producing another meal even though she’d been on her feet all day. “Yes. I think you should.”

“Mama, if you tell me what to do, I can do that. Can’t I? You… you look tired.”

Surprised, Sophie looked at her daughter more closely. She’d grown a lot in the last year. Though she would probably never be fat, her lanky bones had filled out a little. Even her chest had gained some size. The next time they went shopping, they’d have to buy her some bigger bras.

“Yes. I think you’re old enough.” Grateful, Sophie handed over the pot in her hand, then settled in a chair at the kitchen table. Her feet throbbed. She slipped one shoe off and rubbed some life back into the foot. “Fill that pot with water and put it on a burner. Turn the burner to high. Not quite that much water.”

“What do I do with it?”

“It’s ok to spill the extra into the sink.”

The mask got in the way. Emma set it aside with no show of her normal self consciousness. She concentrated on the pot until it was all set, then turned questioning eyes on Sophie.

“Empty that jar of Ragu into the other pot and turn it to low.” Sophie slipped off her other shoe and went to work on the exposed foot.

“So… um… Mom. You know I like to sing.”

“Yes. You’re quite good, too, when you let people hear you.”

Emma chuckled. “Lots of people hear me now. I…. I… I joined a band. A rock band. I’m… I’m a singer.” Emma lifted her head and smiled.

“Really?” Sophie could hardly believe it. Emma never really lied, but she could sometimes get carried away with flights of fancy. “Get a wooden spoon out of the drawer and stir the Ragu so it doesn’t burn.”

“Really!” Emma grabbed a spoon and waved it in the air. “And Bruce and Tracy and Gene and Justin and even Kate are in it with me! You remember Kate, right? Bruce is the one who makes the masks for me, and I wear then on stage so I can sing and not worry about anyone knowing who I really am.”

Sophie was beginning to believe Emma’s story. That boy, Bruce, had indeed acted as though he had some connection to the masks.

“So… What happened was this. Bruce and Kate and Tracy and me all went down to Peace Park on State Street to do a song. This old guy, Walter, he heard our song and really liked it. And the song was written about Drew. And it turned out the old guy, Walter, he knew Drew. So he called him up. But Walter has Alzheimer’s, which is how he knows Drew in the first place.”

“Really? Add the spaghetti to the boiling water.”

“Right.” Emma did it very carefully. “So anyway, Drew came to get Walter, but Walter really, really didn’t want to go home and Suzie’s got something going on at her place so Drew couldn’t take him there and then Tracy said they could come to my place if I said it was okay. And I thought it would be okay, so I said yes. And so that’s how we ended up here.”

All the parts fit together. Drew had seemed conscientious and polite. Walter was certainly of an age to be suffering from Alzheimer’s. Tracy seemed the kind who would make that kind of suggestion. For once Emma didn’t seem to be lost in fantasy.

“So anyway, that’s what happened.” Emma glanced up from the pot nervously and smiled tentatively. Clearly she wanted to know it was all right.

Sophie marveled at what a change had taken place in her daughter while she wasn’t looking. She had grown in many ways. She was even cooking with only the slightest of instructions. This change came as a relief.

Sophie smiled. “Wow. You really do have good friends. Better than those gossipy girls you used to talk about. Just don’t make a habit of bringing strange men home with you.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I won’t do that again.”

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