Categories > Cartoons > Daria > Silent Cynic
Daria's day with Troy
0 reviewsHelen plans a party and Daria spends an afternoon and evening with Troy.
0Unrated
The Silent Cynic
By Dr. T
Chapter 7 – Daria’s day with Troy
Helen woke up on Sunday, still torn over the idea of Daria visiting Troy’s house before Christmas. The two things that finally swayed her to stop objecting were the invitation Daria had to dinner, and the fact that Daria would be carrying a canister of the powerful ‘bear repellant strength’ pepper spray she owned, just in case.
If nothing else, Helen knew that Daria would not hesitate to use it if necessary – she had proved that multiple times back in Highland.
This also spurred Helen into planning a last-minute Christmas Eve get-together for her children’s friends. This idea had popped into her head Sunday afternoon, which meant she only had until Wednesday to pull the party together. Fortunately, Daria had pointed out that Quinn could do most of the organizing, with Daria looking over her shoulder to keep her on-budget. Quinn had pouted a bit about that last point, but went along.
Daria and Quinn quickly and easily got Jane on board to help with decorations. Besides Jane, Daria would end up having Troy, Paul, Mack, Jodie, and Brittany coming. Daria would invite three others, two from her signing group and the third a sophomore girl golfer, but they were unable to make it. To Daria’s surprise, the regret each expressed at missing a party she was (at least partially) giving was sincere – a very different reaction that she would have gotten in Highland.
Quinn would have an even dozen coming. To her, the two most important were Tori and Stacy. The other ten were girls in the fashion group, like Tiffany and Brooke, and two of the golfers Daria hadn’t invited. There were about eight boys Quinn had considered inviting, but she decided to keep it to her ‘crowd.’ She teased Daria by saying it might help socialize Troy and Paul.
Meanwhile, Daria had an undeniable date for Monday afternoon. If the Snow Ball had been Daria’s first ‘official’ date (since the trip to the Mall had been more to see if the pair might be interested in at least a little friendly dating), Daria had to admit that this was to see if they might be interested in being more than friends who sometimes went out.
Despite trying to deny it, she was, for the first time, interested.
*
Troy had passed on his mother’s suggestion for arriving after 2:30 and staying for dinner. Daria therefore arrived at 2:31. It was a raw day, overcast and chilly, but it was not supposed to lightly sleet until well into that night. Daria was wearing a heavy green winter coat, gloves, the scarf Troy had given her, and earmuffs. He hung her scarf and coat on one of the two coat racks inside the hallway. In keeping with the weather, Daria was wearing a sturdy pair of black jeans and a dark green turtleneck sweater.
“Mom ‘suggested’ we stay in the parlor until she gets home,” Troy told her, gesturing into the front room. “It’s not that she necessarily thinks we’ll…misbehave, it’s that she knows my older brother certainly would have at least tried.”
Daria merely nodded, and went into the ‘parlor.’ It was more than a little overcrowded. Normally it had a large sofa, two matching armchairs, a rocking chair, three end tables and a coffee table, all in a room just over a third of the size of the overly-large single room that was supposed to be both the Morgendorffer informal living room and a more formal space. Now this furniture was squeezed together even more, as a medium-sized Christmas tree sat in one corner, surrounded by a sea of presents that slightly overflowed towards the center of the room and threatened to collapse into the entrance to the dining room.
Seeing Daria eye all this, Troy hit one of the old-fashioned button switches next to the doorway and the tree lit up. Daria was impressed – they had a medium-sized very fake tree they reused every year, and although Quinn and her mother made sure it was ‘fashionably stylish,’ that meant the decorations were tasteful but sparce. This tree was very well-lit and over-decorated with ornaments ranging from heirlooms which were early 20th century classics to true kitsch.
Troy gestured at the piled presents. “My sister and two brothers are married with two kids each. Our presents to our siblings’ kids are here, plus Mom and Dad’s for me and my siblings of course, since they all invade after they attack their presents at home. The piles will even be bigger Christmas morning, flowing well into the dining room, since this is where ‘Santa’ delivers presents.”
‘So that will be at least fifteen people here for Christmas dinner?’
“No, my oldest brother has the biggest house, so we go over there for supper. They open stockings and such at home and come here for the next round of presents after breakfast. They usually go to their various other grandparents for lunch, where the kids get yet a third set of presents, then everyone goes to my brother’s for a buffet supper.” He shrugged. “It works.”
Troy gestured around the rest of the room. “Find a seat; let’s talk before Mom gets here.”
Daria thought a moment and then sat on one end of the sofa and gestured towards the other end. ‘What shall we talk about?’ she asked.
“I don’t know where to start,” Troy admitted. “To be honest, I’ve never really done this before.” He had had a few casual dates, but this already felt different.
‘Me neither,’ Daria admitted. ‘So we are likely doing it wrong, but hopefully it will work for us.’ That Daria was at least interested made Troy smile. ‘Do you want to start?’
“Okay; I like you and would like to date you. From how you reacted Saturday night, I take it you’re interested?”
‘Yes, and I would not be here and you would not have been invited Wednesday night if I had changed my mind.’ Daria held up her hand. ‘I am new to this; we need to go slow.’
“I understand; let me know if I’m ever pressing.”
‘I shall.’
As Troy considered what where to go next, Daria went ahead. ‘You are halfway through your junior year. The SAT’s are coming up for you soon. Where do you want to go after high school? Any ideas what you might major in?’
Troy sighed. “I wish I knew either for certain. I’m a great chess player, but it’s almost impossible to make a really good living at it, especially in the US, unless you are one of the top ten or twenty, and I mean in the world. I might be able to crack the top forty or fifty. Maybe. I’m good in music and a bit better in art, but I couldn’t go professional in either.” He considered. “I guess I could be a commercial artist, but I just don’t have that spark of genius that Jane has. I have this knack for languages, but I couldn’t teach intro language courses. I love some types of history, but do I want to be a history professor? I’m sure I wouldn’t want to teach anything in high school. Computer programmer?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, if I can think of things of my own, but I don’t think I’d want to be coding for someone else. From what I’ve heard, they mostly get chewed up as contract workers.” Troy sighed. “Any ideas for yourself?”
Daria pointed at her throat. ‘This rather limits teaching positions and a lot of other jobs, no matter what the laws of equal access become. I could interpret to a hearing-impaired person, but I could not from them. I would like to become a writer, but I will certainly need a day job. Data entry?” She made a face. “I am fluent in Spanish, and well on my way to fluency in French and Latin, and am not too bad in German, but most translating jobs pretty much pay like most data entry. I know my way around Basic and C+, but I doubt I could get a real coding job. Technical writing? A pay scale usually a bit better than data entry, but also usually on short term contracts.’
After a moment’s silence, Troy went on, “As for where?” He shrugged. “Probably somewhere within a two-hour drive or less. Fortunately, that’s still a fair number of colleges. Depending on scholarships, I might be limited to state universities.”
Daria could only agree that was likely for her as well.
“Being smart doesn’t help as much as it should, does it?”
‘I guess not.’ Daria sighed. ‘Tell me about your parents; no one else will be here, will there?’
“No, there shouldn’t be. Dad gets home around five-thirty, so we eat a little after six.” He thought a moment, and then said, “For Mom…think of the most cunning person you know. She’s not super-smart, but she has a lot of cunning, so ten percent raw cunning. Add in about thirty percent of how your Mom acted, and forty percent Quinn, plus ten percent each Tori and Ms. Li, and age to fifty-two.”
‘Should I be afraid?’
‘Li became principal when my older brother was a junior; nine years ago. She had been one of the Math teachers. Barch came the next year. Mom took down Barch and then Li when she tried to stick up for Barch’s mis-grading him. Barch still does it when she can get away with it, but she only did it to me once; one look at Mom in the parent/teacher conference and she and Li both backed down.”
‘Impressive.’
“Dad…Dad is probably a border-line genius who got roped into marriage right out of high school. Not that Mom was pregnant or anything; they just both came from working class families that still thought in terms of getting a job and then getting married right out of high school more than going to college. Instead, Dad did two years in the army, including a tour in Vietnam. They married when he came home from basic training.” He shrugged again. “I don’t think Dad’s gotten a fair shake out of life – I think he would have made a great physician, maybe a surgeon, but if he had gone that route, I wouldn’t be here.”
He looked at Daria. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but your parents struck me as once-pretty liberal, maybe even ex-hippies, who have grown more and more middle-of-the-road over the years.”
‘That is them – ex-hippies who actually lived in a commune for most of the early Seventies.’ She paused, and added, ‘I sometimes think Dad spent most of that time stoned – he does not seem to remember a lot from that period compared to before or after.’
“Not things Mom needs to know, believe me!”
‘Your parents know about my voice?’
“Yes, and it sounds like Mom now.”
Daria then heard the back door open and then noises in the kitchen.
“If you didn’t notice, the garage is in the back, off the side street.”
Daria nodded; she had seen that the other houses on the block had a narrow driveway, but not this one.
Mrs. Loomis was revealed to be a somewhat stout woman of at best average height, wearing a winter coat and carrying two sample cases. Her eyes raked over the two on the sofa, evaluating them. Daria stood.
“Troy?”
Troy blinked, and then said as he joined Daria in standing, “Mom, Daria Morgendorffer; Daria, my mother.”
Daria waved and gave Troy’s mother the very slightest of smiles. Mrs. Loomis seemed to look confused for a moment, but then nodded. “Troy, take my cases upstairs. If you two really want to play chess, bring a set down here or the den.”
Troy stood, “Okay.” Giving Daria a glance, he did as he was told.
“If she’s anything like me, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you alone with a boy two floors from supervision,” she said, taking off her coat. “I know, you can’t talk, but I’ll be right back.” She went and hung up her coat. “Would you mind helping me in the kitchen?” she asked when she reappeared.
Seeing she had little choice, Daria merely walked towards the hallway and followed Mrs. Loomis into the kitchen. Mrs. Loomis picked up a sack of potatoes from the small table and moved to the sink. She gestured at a large paper sack and a plastic one. “Just take everything out and put it on the table.”
Daria shrugged and did as she had been asked, while the older woman washed some of the potatoes. She paused and looked at Daria. “We’re having scalloped potatoes. Do you mind if I leave the skins on?” She made a thumbs up gesture. “Or would it bother you?” She did the thumbs down.
Daria had never had scalloped potatoes, at least not homemade. It did not really matter to her, so she did the thumbs up. Mrs. Loomis turned back to the sink. “The skin does mess up the consistency, but that’s where we’re told most of the vitamins and such are.” She looked back at Daria. “We’re also having meatloaf, green beans, baked beans, cottage cheese, and rolls. Any problems with any of those?” Daria shook her head. “Oh, and either milk or iced tea.” Daria gave the thumbs up again. “Oh, Troy said your family is from Texas, so I should probably tell you that the tea isn’t sweet….” Before she could finish, Daria gave her the thumbs up again. Mrs. Loomis smiled, as they both heard Troy coming down the stairs.
After a moment, he came into the kitchen. “May we play in the dining room?” he asked. “There’s really nowhere in the parlor or down in the den to set up the board without it tipping over at some point.”
“Go ahead.” For a moment, Mrs. Loomis was glad she could eavesdrop, but then she remembered that the two could sign to each other.
*
The two played two games, Daria playing white and then black. She lost both games, but not too badly. ‘You play black against the computer at least as often as you do white, correct?’
Daria nodded. ‘Otherwise, it can become predictable.’
‘If you played like this in tournaments, you would likely be ranked between 1550 and 1700. If you played more often, you would likely be one hundred points beyond that, or a bit more. If you studied like a manic for a year, you might even add a hundred or so beyond that over time. If you joined the chess club as you play right now, you would likely be the second or third board next fall.’
Daria looked at him.
‘I am not saying you should, I am saying you could.’
‘Does it not meet the same days as golf?’
‘Chess meets every day; I am really the only one that comes every day.’ Granted that was in part because he wanted to avoid study hall. If no one else showed up, he did homework or studied on his own.
‘I will think about it.’
The two started to put the set away when Troy’s father arrived. He was a muscular man of below average height with a greying crew cut. After introductions, Troy turned to his mother and asked, “May I show Daria my room and the attic before supper?”
“Alright, but hurry down and set the table.”
“Okay.”
The pair followed Troy’s father up the stairs. He went into the main bedroom to grab clean clothes. He would shower and change before supper. The smaller front bedroom had been Troy’s sister’s, but was now his mother’s office. Troy’s bedroom was over the dining room, and was filled with books, CDs, finished paintings, and a few posters.
The attic had been partially finished-over as a bedroom for Troy’s older brother soon after Troy had been born. About half of the attic was still used for storage, but the part that had been converted to a bedroom now had the rest of Troy’s stuff. There were three chess boards set up, two showing games or chess problems in progress. There was a computer and an old dot matrix printer, his trombone and a music stand, two easels, a few canvases of various sizes, and other artist’s paraphernalia.
‘I expected more trophies,’ Daria commented.
“The impressive looking ones are in storage until after Christmas, then they go back in the parlor,” was the dry reply.
Daria bit her lip, and then made a decision. ‘May I trust you with something that only one other person knows? Something even I did not know until about four weeks ago?’
“You mean to keep it quiet? Yes.”
‘I will tell Jane and Aunt Amy in New York, then tell my parents and Quinn later.’ She walked over to Troy and tugged on his shirt collar. When he bent his head, half expecting a kiss, she instead, in a barely audible, hoarse whisper, said, “I have recovered this much of my voice.”
She backed up and saw the pleased surprise on Troy’s face. ‘I could not even make that much sound two months ago,’ she signed. ‘It hurts to say much more, or to try and say it louder. I do not want people to know until I know if it will improve. People will expect me to talk all the time, not to mention louder.’
“I understand. Thank you for your sharing that with me.”
*
Compared to what she usually ate, dinner was something of a revelation. On those nights when Daria and Jane hadn’t already had pizza or Quinn a dinner date, usually two or sometimes three nights a week, the Morgendorffers had lasagna and salad, and once or twice a week they attempted to eat whatever her father cooked. Sunday evenings, they ate some other prepackaged meal her mother had picked up (often other types of pasta) or had some sort of take-out. Any remaining nights, especially Saturdays, they generally did not eat together.
Daria had had premade scalloped potatoes once or twice, which all had a very mediocre cheese sauce. This was just potatoes thoroughly soaked in milk and baked with some ham, leftover bacon, and with some breadcrumbs on top. It was delicious. The baked beans may have started off in a can like all other baked beans she had had, but they had also been ‘doctored’ to a high level of flavor. The meatloaf was like nothing she had ever had – of course, all previous servings had been from school cafeterias. Even the green beans had had some cooked mushrooms and crumbled bacon added.
Mrs. Loomis was very pleased when Troy relayed the many compliments.
To Troy’s surprise, his mother refused Daria’s help in clearing the table and shooed him away as well. The pair bundled up, and Troy walked Daria home. While he offered her his hand, Daria linked arms instead. It felt odd walking that way at first, but Troy decided he liked it almost as much as holding hands, and that if this is what Daria wanted, he was not going to argue.
At her door, Daria invited Troy in to talk for a few minutes and warm up before walking back home. As they came in, Helen called out, “Daria, it that you?”
Daria rolled her eyes, and gestured to Troy to shout a reply. “Yes, Mrs. Morgendorffer; I walked her home!”
‘She may be out to check, so….’ Daria pulled on his coat – Troy decided he rather liked the gesture. The pair kissed for several seconds, separating just as Helen made it out of the kitchen.
‘I shall see you Wednesday evening,’ Daria signed.
‘Yes, I will be here,’ Troy returned. He turned towards the approaching Helen. “My mother wondered if she could send anything with me for the party; cookies or something.”
That brought Helen up short. “Err….”
“She’ll be baking batches for her grandchildren tomorrow and Wednesday – the three older than little toddlers all have parties they’re going to Wednesday, so it won’t be any trouble.”
“Well, I won’t say no,” Helen managed to say.
Troy took Daria’s right hand in his left. “See you on Wednesday,” he said to Daria. He nodded at Helen.“ Mrs. Morgendorffer.” Daria let him out and then turned to face her mother. For one of the few times in their recent relationship, Helen was for a moment at a loss for words.
Finally, Helen asked, “Did you have a good afternoon?”
‘Very good afternoon, excellent dinner.’ Daria did not think her mother needed to know the best part was the walk home and the kissing. ‘I am off to shower.’
A somewhat bemused and puzzled Helen returned to the kitchen.
By Dr. T
Chapter 7 – Daria’s day with Troy
Helen woke up on Sunday, still torn over the idea of Daria visiting Troy’s house before Christmas. The two things that finally swayed her to stop objecting were the invitation Daria had to dinner, and the fact that Daria would be carrying a canister of the powerful ‘bear repellant strength’ pepper spray she owned, just in case.
If nothing else, Helen knew that Daria would not hesitate to use it if necessary – she had proved that multiple times back in Highland.
This also spurred Helen into planning a last-minute Christmas Eve get-together for her children’s friends. This idea had popped into her head Sunday afternoon, which meant she only had until Wednesday to pull the party together. Fortunately, Daria had pointed out that Quinn could do most of the organizing, with Daria looking over her shoulder to keep her on-budget. Quinn had pouted a bit about that last point, but went along.
Daria and Quinn quickly and easily got Jane on board to help with decorations. Besides Jane, Daria would end up having Troy, Paul, Mack, Jodie, and Brittany coming. Daria would invite three others, two from her signing group and the third a sophomore girl golfer, but they were unable to make it. To Daria’s surprise, the regret each expressed at missing a party she was (at least partially) giving was sincere – a very different reaction that she would have gotten in Highland.
Quinn would have an even dozen coming. To her, the two most important were Tori and Stacy. The other ten were girls in the fashion group, like Tiffany and Brooke, and two of the golfers Daria hadn’t invited. There were about eight boys Quinn had considered inviting, but she decided to keep it to her ‘crowd.’ She teased Daria by saying it might help socialize Troy and Paul.
Meanwhile, Daria had an undeniable date for Monday afternoon. If the Snow Ball had been Daria’s first ‘official’ date (since the trip to the Mall had been more to see if the pair might be interested in at least a little friendly dating), Daria had to admit that this was to see if they might be interested in being more than friends who sometimes went out.
Despite trying to deny it, she was, for the first time, interested.
*
Troy had passed on his mother’s suggestion for arriving after 2:30 and staying for dinner. Daria therefore arrived at 2:31. It was a raw day, overcast and chilly, but it was not supposed to lightly sleet until well into that night. Daria was wearing a heavy green winter coat, gloves, the scarf Troy had given her, and earmuffs. He hung her scarf and coat on one of the two coat racks inside the hallway. In keeping with the weather, Daria was wearing a sturdy pair of black jeans and a dark green turtleneck sweater.
“Mom ‘suggested’ we stay in the parlor until she gets home,” Troy told her, gesturing into the front room. “It’s not that she necessarily thinks we’ll…misbehave, it’s that she knows my older brother certainly would have at least tried.”
Daria merely nodded, and went into the ‘parlor.’ It was more than a little overcrowded. Normally it had a large sofa, two matching armchairs, a rocking chair, three end tables and a coffee table, all in a room just over a third of the size of the overly-large single room that was supposed to be both the Morgendorffer informal living room and a more formal space. Now this furniture was squeezed together even more, as a medium-sized Christmas tree sat in one corner, surrounded by a sea of presents that slightly overflowed towards the center of the room and threatened to collapse into the entrance to the dining room.
Seeing Daria eye all this, Troy hit one of the old-fashioned button switches next to the doorway and the tree lit up. Daria was impressed – they had a medium-sized very fake tree they reused every year, and although Quinn and her mother made sure it was ‘fashionably stylish,’ that meant the decorations were tasteful but sparce. This tree was very well-lit and over-decorated with ornaments ranging from heirlooms which were early 20th century classics to true kitsch.
Troy gestured at the piled presents. “My sister and two brothers are married with two kids each. Our presents to our siblings’ kids are here, plus Mom and Dad’s for me and my siblings of course, since they all invade after they attack their presents at home. The piles will even be bigger Christmas morning, flowing well into the dining room, since this is where ‘Santa’ delivers presents.”
‘So that will be at least fifteen people here for Christmas dinner?’
“No, my oldest brother has the biggest house, so we go over there for supper. They open stockings and such at home and come here for the next round of presents after breakfast. They usually go to their various other grandparents for lunch, where the kids get yet a third set of presents, then everyone goes to my brother’s for a buffet supper.” He shrugged. “It works.”
Troy gestured around the rest of the room. “Find a seat; let’s talk before Mom gets here.”
Daria thought a moment and then sat on one end of the sofa and gestured towards the other end. ‘What shall we talk about?’ she asked.
“I don’t know where to start,” Troy admitted. “To be honest, I’ve never really done this before.” He had had a few casual dates, but this already felt different.
‘Me neither,’ Daria admitted. ‘So we are likely doing it wrong, but hopefully it will work for us.’ That Daria was at least interested made Troy smile. ‘Do you want to start?’
“Okay; I like you and would like to date you. From how you reacted Saturday night, I take it you’re interested?”
‘Yes, and I would not be here and you would not have been invited Wednesday night if I had changed my mind.’ Daria held up her hand. ‘I am new to this; we need to go slow.’
“I understand; let me know if I’m ever pressing.”
‘I shall.’
As Troy considered what where to go next, Daria went ahead. ‘You are halfway through your junior year. The SAT’s are coming up for you soon. Where do you want to go after high school? Any ideas what you might major in?’
Troy sighed. “I wish I knew either for certain. I’m a great chess player, but it’s almost impossible to make a really good living at it, especially in the US, unless you are one of the top ten or twenty, and I mean in the world. I might be able to crack the top forty or fifty. Maybe. I’m good in music and a bit better in art, but I couldn’t go professional in either.” He considered. “I guess I could be a commercial artist, but I just don’t have that spark of genius that Jane has. I have this knack for languages, but I couldn’t teach intro language courses. I love some types of history, but do I want to be a history professor? I’m sure I wouldn’t want to teach anything in high school. Computer programmer?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, if I can think of things of my own, but I don’t think I’d want to be coding for someone else. From what I’ve heard, they mostly get chewed up as contract workers.” Troy sighed. “Any ideas for yourself?”
Daria pointed at her throat. ‘This rather limits teaching positions and a lot of other jobs, no matter what the laws of equal access become. I could interpret to a hearing-impaired person, but I could not from them. I would like to become a writer, but I will certainly need a day job. Data entry?” She made a face. “I am fluent in Spanish, and well on my way to fluency in French and Latin, and am not too bad in German, but most translating jobs pretty much pay like most data entry. I know my way around Basic and C+, but I doubt I could get a real coding job. Technical writing? A pay scale usually a bit better than data entry, but also usually on short term contracts.’
After a moment’s silence, Troy went on, “As for where?” He shrugged. “Probably somewhere within a two-hour drive or less. Fortunately, that’s still a fair number of colleges. Depending on scholarships, I might be limited to state universities.”
Daria could only agree that was likely for her as well.
“Being smart doesn’t help as much as it should, does it?”
‘I guess not.’ Daria sighed. ‘Tell me about your parents; no one else will be here, will there?’
“No, there shouldn’t be. Dad gets home around five-thirty, so we eat a little after six.” He thought a moment, and then said, “For Mom…think of the most cunning person you know. She’s not super-smart, but she has a lot of cunning, so ten percent raw cunning. Add in about thirty percent of how your Mom acted, and forty percent Quinn, plus ten percent each Tori and Ms. Li, and age to fifty-two.”
‘Should I be afraid?’
‘Li became principal when my older brother was a junior; nine years ago. She had been one of the Math teachers. Barch came the next year. Mom took down Barch and then Li when she tried to stick up for Barch’s mis-grading him. Barch still does it when she can get away with it, but she only did it to me once; one look at Mom in the parent/teacher conference and she and Li both backed down.”
‘Impressive.’
“Dad…Dad is probably a border-line genius who got roped into marriage right out of high school. Not that Mom was pregnant or anything; they just both came from working class families that still thought in terms of getting a job and then getting married right out of high school more than going to college. Instead, Dad did two years in the army, including a tour in Vietnam. They married when he came home from basic training.” He shrugged again. “I don’t think Dad’s gotten a fair shake out of life – I think he would have made a great physician, maybe a surgeon, but if he had gone that route, I wouldn’t be here.”
He looked at Daria. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but your parents struck me as once-pretty liberal, maybe even ex-hippies, who have grown more and more middle-of-the-road over the years.”
‘That is them – ex-hippies who actually lived in a commune for most of the early Seventies.’ She paused, and added, ‘I sometimes think Dad spent most of that time stoned – he does not seem to remember a lot from that period compared to before or after.’
“Not things Mom needs to know, believe me!”
‘Your parents know about my voice?’
“Yes, and it sounds like Mom now.”
Daria then heard the back door open and then noises in the kitchen.
“If you didn’t notice, the garage is in the back, off the side street.”
Daria nodded; she had seen that the other houses on the block had a narrow driveway, but not this one.
Mrs. Loomis was revealed to be a somewhat stout woman of at best average height, wearing a winter coat and carrying two sample cases. Her eyes raked over the two on the sofa, evaluating them. Daria stood.
“Troy?”
Troy blinked, and then said as he joined Daria in standing, “Mom, Daria Morgendorffer; Daria, my mother.”
Daria waved and gave Troy’s mother the very slightest of smiles. Mrs. Loomis seemed to look confused for a moment, but then nodded. “Troy, take my cases upstairs. If you two really want to play chess, bring a set down here or the den.”
Troy stood, “Okay.” Giving Daria a glance, he did as he was told.
“If she’s anything like me, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you alone with a boy two floors from supervision,” she said, taking off her coat. “I know, you can’t talk, but I’ll be right back.” She went and hung up her coat. “Would you mind helping me in the kitchen?” she asked when she reappeared.
Seeing she had little choice, Daria merely walked towards the hallway and followed Mrs. Loomis into the kitchen. Mrs. Loomis picked up a sack of potatoes from the small table and moved to the sink. She gestured at a large paper sack and a plastic one. “Just take everything out and put it on the table.”
Daria shrugged and did as she had been asked, while the older woman washed some of the potatoes. She paused and looked at Daria. “We’re having scalloped potatoes. Do you mind if I leave the skins on?” She made a thumbs up gesture. “Or would it bother you?” She did the thumbs down.
Daria had never had scalloped potatoes, at least not homemade. It did not really matter to her, so she did the thumbs up. Mrs. Loomis turned back to the sink. “The skin does mess up the consistency, but that’s where we’re told most of the vitamins and such are.” She looked back at Daria. “We’re also having meatloaf, green beans, baked beans, cottage cheese, and rolls. Any problems with any of those?” Daria shook her head. “Oh, and either milk or iced tea.” Daria gave the thumbs up again. “Oh, Troy said your family is from Texas, so I should probably tell you that the tea isn’t sweet….” Before she could finish, Daria gave her the thumbs up again. Mrs. Loomis smiled, as they both heard Troy coming down the stairs.
After a moment, he came into the kitchen. “May we play in the dining room?” he asked. “There’s really nowhere in the parlor or down in the den to set up the board without it tipping over at some point.”
“Go ahead.” For a moment, Mrs. Loomis was glad she could eavesdrop, but then she remembered that the two could sign to each other.
*
The two played two games, Daria playing white and then black. She lost both games, but not too badly. ‘You play black against the computer at least as often as you do white, correct?’
Daria nodded. ‘Otherwise, it can become predictable.’
‘If you played like this in tournaments, you would likely be ranked between 1550 and 1700. If you played more often, you would likely be one hundred points beyond that, or a bit more. If you studied like a manic for a year, you might even add a hundred or so beyond that over time. If you joined the chess club as you play right now, you would likely be the second or third board next fall.’
Daria looked at him.
‘I am not saying you should, I am saying you could.’
‘Does it not meet the same days as golf?’
‘Chess meets every day; I am really the only one that comes every day.’ Granted that was in part because he wanted to avoid study hall. If no one else showed up, he did homework or studied on his own.
‘I will think about it.’
The two started to put the set away when Troy’s father arrived. He was a muscular man of below average height with a greying crew cut. After introductions, Troy turned to his mother and asked, “May I show Daria my room and the attic before supper?”
“Alright, but hurry down and set the table.”
“Okay.”
The pair followed Troy’s father up the stairs. He went into the main bedroom to grab clean clothes. He would shower and change before supper. The smaller front bedroom had been Troy’s sister’s, but was now his mother’s office. Troy’s bedroom was over the dining room, and was filled with books, CDs, finished paintings, and a few posters.
The attic had been partially finished-over as a bedroom for Troy’s older brother soon after Troy had been born. About half of the attic was still used for storage, but the part that had been converted to a bedroom now had the rest of Troy’s stuff. There were three chess boards set up, two showing games or chess problems in progress. There was a computer and an old dot matrix printer, his trombone and a music stand, two easels, a few canvases of various sizes, and other artist’s paraphernalia.
‘I expected more trophies,’ Daria commented.
“The impressive looking ones are in storage until after Christmas, then they go back in the parlor,” was the dry reply.
Daria bit her lip, and then made a decision. ‘May I trust you with something that only one other person knows? Something even I did not know until about four weeks ago?’
“You mean to keep it quiet? Yes.”
‘I will tell Jane and Aunt Amy in New York, then tell my parents and Quinn later.’ She walked over to Troy and tugged on his shirt collar. When he bent his head, half expecting a kiss, she instead, in a barely audible, hoarse whisper, said, “I have recovered this much of my voice.”
She backed up and saw the pleased surprise on Troy’s face. ‘I could not even make that much sound two months ago,’ she signed. ‘It hurts to say much more, or to try and say it louder. I do not want people to know until I know if it will improve. People will expect me to talk all the time, not to mention louder.’
“I understand. Thank you for your sharing that with me.”
*
Compared to what she usually ate, dinner was something of a revelation. On those nights when Daria and Jane hadn’t already had pizza or Quinn a dinner date, usually two or sometimes three nights a week, the Morgendorffers had lasagna and salad, and once or twice a week they attempted to eat whatever her father cooked. Sunday evenings, they ate some other prepackaged meal her mother had picked up (often other types of pasta) or had some sort of take-out. Any remaining nights, especially Saturdays, they generally did not eat together.
Daria had had premade scalloped potatoes once or twice, which all had a very mediocre cheese sauce. This was just potatoes thoroughly soaked in milk and baked with some ham, leftover bacon, and with some breadcrumbs on top. It was delicious. The baked beans may have started off in a can like all other baked beans she had had, but they had also been ‘doctored’ to a high level of flavor. The meatloaf was like nothing she had ever had – of course, all previous servings had been from school cafeterias. Even the green beans had had some cooked mushrooms and crumbled bacon added.
Mrs. Loomis was very pleased when Troy relayed the many compliments.
To Troy’s surprise, his mother refused Daria’s help in clearing the table and shooed him away as well. The pair bundled up, and Troy walked Daria home. While he offered her his hand, Daria linked arms instead. It felt odd walking that way at first, but Troy decided he liked it almost as much as holding hands, and that if this is what Daria wanted, he was not going to argue.
At her door, Daria invited Troy in to talk for a few minutes and warm up before walking back home. As they came in, Helen called out, “Daria, it that you?”
Daria rolled her eyes, and gestured to Troy to shout a reply. “Yes, Mrs. Morgendorffer; I walked her home!”
‘She may be out to check, so….’ Daria pulled on his coat – Troy decided he rather liked the gesture. The pair kissed for several seconds, separating just as Helen made it out of the kitchen.
‘I shall see you Wednesday evening,’ Daria signed.
‘Yes, I will be here,’ Troy returned. He turned towards the approaching Helen. “My mother wondered if she could send anything with me for the party; cookies or something.”
That brought Helen up short. “Err….”
“She’ll be baking batches for her grandchildren tomorrow and Wednesday – the three older than little toddlers all have parties they’re going to Wednesday, so it won’t be any trouble.”
“Well, I won’t say no,” Helen managed to say.
Troy took Daria’s right hand in his left. “See you on Wednesday,” he said to Daria. He nodded at Helen.“ Mrs. Morgendorffer.” Daria let him out and then turned to face her mother. For one of the few times in their recent relationship, Helen was for a moment at a loss for words.
Finally, Helen asked, “Did you have a good afternoon?”
‘Very good afternoon, excellent dinner.’ Daria did not think her mother needed to know the best part was the walk home and the kissing. ‘I am off to shower.’
A somewhat bemused and puzzled Helen returned to the kitchen.
Sign up to rate and review this story