so I made eye contact and mouthed "What the hell?" He silently chuckled before returning his attention to the squirmy two year old in the high chair next to him.
Susan began the closing portion of the night by giving her thank you speech, and as luck would have it, Michael decided it would be an excellent time to call. Our conversation began in a civil manor, he apologized for the way he reacted and his assumptions about the comments I had made to him, I apologized for how I handled the whole ordeal. But fifteen minutes later we were back to arguing - he couldn't see my side of the situation, which just made both of us frustrated. With tears streaming down my face, I began to walk around the front of the hall, pacing the floor, down to the parking lot. Glenn-Michael walked outside and past me, while I continued to yell and argue, and came back a few minutes later and handed me something. It was a small, brown, folded handkerchief. I took the phone away from my ear and thanked him, wiping my face and laughing from his explanation "I figured you might have a booger or something." There it was again, that immature humor that could only be pulled off by someone of his nature. Without skipping a beat, I handed it back to him and said "What I could really use is one of those," pointing to his cigarette. "Oh one of these? Yeah, sure. Does your mother know you smoke?" He asked as he handed me one and pulled out his zippo. With one motion the top was flipped open and the flame was lit. I took a drag and laughed again, "No, and if she does I'll die." He nodded, remembering what it was like to be an under-the-radar rebel and walked inside. I sorted things out with Michael on the phone, behind a van in the parking lot and cigarette in hand. When it was halfway gone I put it out, fearing that my mother would be able to smell the thing on me. When I returned inside Glenn-Michael and my mother were standing and talking to each other, I heard her murmur "There she is" as I quickly ducked behind the staircase to the second floor and headed to the bathroom. I washed my hands and gargled with some water, just to get some of the smoke off of my breath. When I returned to the pow-wow no one knew the wiser. The cigarette break was just between the two of us.
As we got ready to leave, mom and I made the rounds, giving hugs and goodbyes,
Susan began the closing portion of the night by giving her thank you speech, and as luck would have it, Michael decided it would be an excellent time to call. Our conversation began in a civil manor, he apologized for the way he reacted and his assumptions about the comments I had made to him, I apologized for how I handled the whole ordeal. But fifteen minutes later we were back to arguing - he couldn't see my side of the situation, which just made both of us frustrated. With tears streaming down my face, I began to walk around the front of the hall, pacing the floor, down to the parking lot. Glenn-Michael walked outside and past me, while I continued to yell and argue, and came back a few minutes later and handed me something. It was a small, brown, folded handkerchief. I took the phone away from my ear and thanked him, wiping my face and laughing from his explanation "I figured you might have a booger or something." There it was again, that immature humor that could only be pulled off by someone of his nature. Without skipping a beat, I handed it back to him and said "What I could really use is one of those," pointing to his cigarette. "Oh one of these? Yeah, sure. Does your mother know you smoke?" He asked as he handed me one and pulled out his zippo. With one motion the top was flipped open and the flame was lit. I took a drag and laughed again, "No, and if she does I'll die." He nodded, remembering what it was like to be an under-the-radar rebel and walked inside. I sorted things out with Michael on the phone, behind a van in the parking lot and cigarette in hand. When it was halfway gone I put it out, fearing that my mother would be able to smell the thing on me. When I returned inside Glenn-Michael and my mother were standing and talking to each other, I heard her murmur "There she is" as I quickly ducked behind the staircase to the second floor and headed to the bathroom. I washed my hands and gargled with some water, just to get some of the smoke off of my breath. When I returned to the pow-wow no one knew the wiser. The cigarette break was just between the two of us.
As we got ready to leave, mom and I made the rounds, giving hugs and goodbyes,
