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with all things French. The French were “civilized“ and ate dinner at ten at night. She’d been saving up the dinners Jane made to warm back up and eat just before she went to bed. She wanted her mother to study wine sauces and get some good veal. Quite a change from her earlier views of meat, and veal in particular.
    “Katie, you’re going to have to take over some of the cooking for us,“ Jane said. “It’s too hard for me to get around the kitchen right now. But no veal. Why don’t we make up some menus? It’s time you learned how to cook.“
    “What about Mike? He’s older than I am. Make him learn to cook.“
    “He doesn’t care what he eats.”
    The kitchen door had opened and closed while they were discussing this. “Are you talking about me?“ Mike said, coming in the living room with a girl in tow. “Mom, this is Kipsy Topper. We met today at the garden place where I’m working for the summer.”
    Jane had to make a serious effort to keep her jaw from dropping. Kipsy Topper, if that was really her name, which Jane was certain it wasn’t, was the last thing she’d ever expected Mike to bring home. She had flame-colored hair. Or maybe it was a wig. Sort of like a big Raggedy Ann doll. Her eyebrows and nose were pierced and she was wearing what looked like a very flimsy slip over baggy jeans. There was a snake tattoo on her skinny shoulder. She could have been fourteen or twenty-four. Either way, too young or too old for Mike. And much too bizarre. He’d always gone for the blond cheerleader types.
    “Kipsy... “ Jane said, gulped, and went on, “how nice to meet you.”
    She was looking at Mike as she spoke. He was smiling blandly.
    “If you’re talking about food,“ he said, “Kipsy and I are going to a Thai restaurant this evening where she works part-time. She was buying plants for the owner to decorate the place. They’re in my truck. We’re taking them over now. Be back late probably.”
    Jane sat thunderstruck as Mike whisked Kipsy out of the house.
    “Wow!“ Katie said.
    “Is that a good wow or a bad one?“ Jane asked.
    “Mom,“ Katie said critically, “you can’t go on judging people by how they look. That’s so frumpy and it’s bigoted besides.“
    “I certainly can judge people when they make an effort to look like freaks,“ Jane said. “That says something about their personality.”
    Katie couldn’t answer this, so she just sniffed with contempt and said, “I thought she looked cool. I might do that to my hair.“
    “Over my dead body,“ Jane said. “Or yours. I’ll let you drive us to the grocery store on your learner’s permit if you promise not to scare me.“
    “I think Mike has gone over the edge,“ Jane said to Shelley later. “You should have seen this girl.“
    “I did,“ Shelley said. “Through my kitchen window as they came in your house. I wanted to go find my Denise and lock her in a closet until she’s twenty-five. Maybe thirty. Where did Mike find her?“
    “At the nursery where he’s working. She was buying plants for the restaurant where she works. The owner must have taste as bad as hers to turn her loose to make decorating decisions, considering how she’s decorated herself.“
    “Don’t worry. Mike’s a bright kid. He won’t fall for her,“ Shelley said.
    “What if you’re wrong?“ Jane whined. “Can you imagine having a daughter-in-law like that? Think of the wedding. Probably held in a Thai restaurant with bridesmaids in underwear or saris. Or under some bridge downtown next door to a body-piercing emporium.“
    “Maybe he just dragged her in to show you a novelty,“ Shelley said.
    “Dear God, I hope so.“
    “Jane, you’re the one going over the edge. He apparently just met her. Don’t go worrying about a wedding. You’ll see that he doesn’t marry until he finishes college.”

Seven

    Jane puttered around in the kitchen awkwardly, trying to think what would be easiest to cook for dinner. A roast maybe. Just