Chapter 30

I had just discovered one of the mysteries of growing up; a perfectly wonderful sister becomes a perfect bitch when she starts struggling with a new body. And it is a new body ... the old one melts away ... baby fat finds other places to settle and those places are places boys ... and lots of men stare at. Grace should have recognized this when she started 'blooming' at twelve.

She didn't ... she was 'just a kid, ' still. She was a kid at thirteen ... but Lucile Louise was beginning her conversion. From twelve to thirteen and part of fourteen, Grace and Wicked Stepmom, had begun the time honored ritual of coffee ... first at home ... until I decided I'd like to have some ... and then at the Busy Bea ... so I couldn't go.

"Girl talk, David," WSM would say and they would ride off in the car I bought Grace ... Lucy Lou driving, of course. They would head out in the 1955 Studebaker President Speedster loaded with standard equipment including: three speed overdrive transmission, power steering and brakes, dual exhaust, four-barrel carburetor, "Shoemaker-stitched" diamond-quilted genuine top-grain leather interior, carpeting front and rear, a map pocket (but no glove box) an eight-tube push-button radio, an S&W 160 mph speedometer and 8,000 rpm tachometer in a simulated engine-turned facing, turn signals, electric clock, tinted glass, cigarette lighter, oil filter and oil bath air cleaner, dual backup lamps, triple horns, two-speed electric wipers, tubeless whitewall tires, simulated wire wheel covers and fog-light bumperettes.

Daddy and I would drive by the Busy Bea, the Speedster parked out front and Grace and Lucy sitting at the side table and chatting up a mile a minute. In another revelation, I discovered that breakfast is from five until nine ... if you happen to be male you had better be out the door and driving away by nine-thirty ... and don't come back until officially lunch: 12:00 noon until 2:00. Nine-thirty-five until eleven forty is the women's coffee hour and don't you forget it.

Daddy and I made the serious mistake of stopping just once. We even parked on the side street so we were unseen and unexpected. The door DINGED, the restaurant conversations came to a screeching halt. Grace turned to look, turned back and shook her head. There was a four seat booth available but we didn't stay ... the icy reception was too cold.

That was the day Grace came home positively bubbling with the news that she had seen her gynecologist for the first time.

Which statement hit my squick button immediately, Daddy informed her that that was more information than he needed to hear ... He was a little more vocal than that about it. The few statements about his baby girl, shotgun weddings and grilling boyfriends were greeted with disdain and the pair of them were out the door.

Lucy Lou's parting shot was, "We're going out to celebrate ... you BOYS can fend for your selves."

The Stude was parked in the lot of the best restaurant in town so we went to East Lansing to Coral Gables "Genuine Italian" Restaurant and Daddy ordered a huge garbage pizza ... everything plus salty fish. It was nummy.

That was my introduction to 'dives' ... well ... that and Bay City. They all knew daddy ... just like last time when they all knew Grandmother ... they still did. It wasn't anywhere as boisterous at when I went with grandmother ... daddy was just a bootlegger ... Grandmother ran a still.

I believe I could handle it if Grace was pissed ALL the time ... but she's not. There are times when lovey Grace surfaces like a gas bubble in a swamp. You know it's going to stink but you sniff anyway because there's always the first time for the smell of roses. I'm a guy ... we take chances. The bubble always pops and it's rotten Grace again.

"Daddy?" I asked, "Are all women like that?"

"Only the ones I've met ... but I keep hoping."

"Is it worth it?"

"Ask me that after you get laid the first time."

"I'm asking."

Very poor timing, Daddy was sipping a coke.

Now we were at the Lake and Grace was pissed because I was 'magic' and she wasn't. I had no idea what she was talking about. It was then that I made my next grievous error. I don't know when I made my first grievous error ... I know I made ... lots. But I'll always remember this one.

"This is a closed meeting, Grace," I said.