Read Angie for Free Online

nodded.
    "Sorry, Eric," she said. "You’re the one being screwed over. Damn Spud and his suddenly getting a love life."
    So I ended up leaving instead of having a night of incredibly hot sex and it'd be ages until I saw Eric again and I still had to make sure his mother wasn't out to kill me. I wished my life was a bit less screwy.
     
    -o-
     
    I had a bitch of a time deciding what to wear to the Eric-Mama dinner. I wanted to look nice, but not too nice, because that would make it look like I was purposely trying to look nice. I went with a cute vintage dress and a cardigan with swallows on it. I even toned down the make-up a bit. That would have to do. When I got to their house in the suburbs and rang the doorbell, I wanted to run away.
    Their front yard was the neatest front yard I’d ever seen. Like every flower had to bloom on schedule and every blade of grass had to grow to regulation height.
    It was going to be a gruesome ordeal filled with uncomfortable silences and nagging. I knew it. It'd never work so I should just quit. I mean, I am not the kind of girl that mothers like.
    Then I remembered the feeling of Eric's lips and thought maybe it'd be worth making a slight effort if it meant I could feel those lips again.
    Anyway, she answered the door before I could run away, so I had to go through with it.
    The house smelt like garlic and chilli and all the good smells. A homely home. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a regular suburban home with a neat garden. Very neat. Scarily neat.
    "Come in, come in, don't stand on the door step scaring the children. They'll think you are a witch with that hair."
    I'm pretty sure most kids nowadays aren’t that easily scared.
    I walked into a living room as neat as the garden outside. Eric’s father sat on the floral sofa, watching TV. He said hello and, when I turned around, Eric-Mama had gone. I wasn't sure what to do. Should I sit down? Then I’d look like a slacker, not wanting to help out. But, if I tried to follow her and she’d gone to the toilet or something, I’d look like a total fool. I stood in the middle of the room, helpless. Again, an ordinary suburban room but spotlessly clean with all the framed photos in perfect alignment on the shelves. Those photos showed various Erics – from his faltering first steps to the one she’d taken on the first night of the tour.
    I grinned at the cuteness of young Eric and his shy yet cheeky grin. He’d obviously been a doted-on only child by the number of photos. Not like me, the second last in a bunch of four. My parents had kinda got bored of taking photos by the time I arrived. There were a couple at birthday parties throughout the years and that was it.
    A huge bunch of flowers mangled into an elaborate arrangement sat on a lace doily on the coffee table.
    Oh hell, I should've bought some wine and maybe a bunch of flowers. That was what polite people did. I'd already blown it.
    The TV was the only modern thing in the room. The furniture, the ornaments, the wallpaper all looked like they’d been there since the 80s. All well-preserved and very looked after but unchanged.
    I thought of all those times in my life when I ’d been just a full-on motor mouth, not even thinking about the right thing to say, and I'd blown all that confidence on worthless things and had none of it left to use.
    I sat on the edge of a chair and tried to watch the news.
    Eric-Mama called us to dinner and I followed Eric-Papa to the dining room. I totally wanted to peek into the other rooms and get a glimpse of Eric’s home life but most of the doors were shut. Everything seemed very normal and ordinary.
    My stomach started rumbling before we even got to the table. The smell of spices and meat wafted through the house from the kitchen. I couldn’t wait to eat. She’d made a huge amount of food that filled the table. I sat down and waited for them to start. Eric-Papa handed me a platter of food and told me to help myself. I took some of the spicy