by Victor Allen
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Lisa knew she was in trouble when her father told her he had been reading the newspaper. It was his fulsome way of telling her she had been caught in some wrongdoing, as in “I read in the newspaper that you had been seen….” drinking, out too late, hanging around with the wrong people, pick your peccadillo.
This morning she had a pretty good idea of what her father had read in the newspaper. Steve had been out of the house less than a minute last night when her parents arrived home. Now, standing in the narrow hallway with her father, she stiffened herself for the predictable reprimand.
“I was reading in the newspaper that Steve Kirk was over here last night after we left,” her father told her perfunctorily, tapping the rolled up newspaper in his hand gently against his thigh.
Lisa, being somewhat adept at turning a smart remark, considered several but decided to keep quiet. She was in Dutch already. She stared stonily at her father, her thoughts on Jenny.
“Well, is it true?”
“If you already know,” Lisa said, “why ask?”
Oh, she knew who had perpetrated this perfidy. It might have been that insufferable old creeping Moses from next door, Mrs. Tomlinson, but Lisa didn’t think so. Only Jenny would pick her for this royal ream job. The little tattletale was going to rue the day she decided to fink on Lisa Flynn.
“I asked,” her father said with fractious patience, “because I want to hear it from you.” Tap, tap went the newspaper on his leg.
There was no use denying it. “Yes, Steve was here.” Then she added hurriedly, “but we didn’t do anything.”
“Now that I don’t doubt. You may be indiscreet, but I don’t think you’re stupid.”
Lisa gaped at her father.
“You know you’re not allowed to have boyfriends over unless either your mother or me are here. What would the neighbors say?”
Lisa couldn’t believe her ears. She thought it was a line only used in the movies. She opened her mouth to say so, but her father interrupted her.
“Not another word. Except for your cousin’s wedding, you’re grounded for a week.”
“But….”
Her father eyed her sternly. “You want to go two for two?”
Lisa closed her mouth. Bright little dots had begun to shoot across her corneas like neon insects. Her father was still speaking.
“When your mother and I go out again tonight, we’re not going to have to worry about Steve Kirk, are we?”
“No sir.”
Jack Flynn walked away and Lisa wondered if a quick rap right in the mouth would do wonders for Little Caesar. She was left alone to contend with her headache and churn with rage about Jenny.
