Crazy in Love by Cynthia Blair Read Free Book Online Page A

in getting rid of the cheese stain, so now she was ready to move on to more interesting concerns.
    “His name is Saul.”
    My father looked up from his plate. “Saul? I’ve never heard of him before.”
    “Daddy, I just told you. I met him last night, at Sharon’s party.” I swear, sometimes I wonder how my parents manage to function in the outside world. It can take such a long time for things to register with them.
    “Does he go to your school?” Mom asked. All of a sudden, I started getting irritated over the fact that Saul was becoming the main topic of conversation.
    “No,” I answered grumpily. “He’s a friend of Sharon’s brother.”
    “Oh, dear. How old is he, Sallie?”
    “He’s seventeen, just like me.” Her concern was only natural, because Sharon’s brother is an old man of twenty. I guess she was afraid I was going to start running around with some wild crowd. I could easily predict the questions that were to follow, so I went ahead and answered them in advance: “He’s a senior in high school, lives in Brooklyn, is not and never has been a member of the Communist party.”
    “I think our Sallie is in love,” Jenny said matter-of-factly as she reached across the table for the bowl of cole slaw.
    “Jenny, hon, don’t reach, ask,” Mom interrupted. “And don’t tease your sister.”
    “It doesn’t bother me,” I answered, keeping my cool. “She can say whatever she wants, because I know, in my heart of hearts, that Saul and I are just business associates.”
    “Saul,” my father repeated. “What’s his last name, Sallie?”
    “What difference does that make?” I answered too quickly. My mother glanced up at me, surprised. Even Jenny remained silent.
    “I just like to have some idea of who my daughter is hanging around with,” Dad answered. “Not to mention who it is who comes to my home.”
    “I’m sorry. His name is Rodriguez. Saul Rodriguez.” Suddenly self-conscious, I buried myself in my glass of milk. “He’s Puerto Rican,” I offered timidly.
    “That’s nice.” Mom stood up and started clearing the table. “Jenny, since Sallie has company coming over, will you please help me with the lunch dishes, even though it’s her turn? Fin sure she’ll do your lunch dishes for you tomorrow.”
    “I’m going to see if I can fix that bathroom sink.” My father sighed. “It’s been dripping for days. The thing drives me crazy at night. It’s all I can hear as I’m lying in bed, trying to sleep. Drip ... drip ... drip ...”
    It was odd to feel relieved. I was tempted to kick myself, but we all know that mental torture can be much effective than physical torture. I felt lousy over what had just transpired. Here, Saul was one of the sweetest, nicest people I’d met in ages, and yet I’d still felt that I had to apologize for his background.
    “You don’t deserve him as a friend,” I told myself.
    Still, by the time he showed up, all that had been forgotten. I was trying so hard not to be nervous that I’d no time to ruminate over social issues. All I knew was that a guy I thought was pretty special would be showing up at my front door any minute, and I really wanted to impress him, I
     had even dragged out the lavender overalls again, because they have the power to make me feel beautiful and irresistible. Some women get that effect from expensive French perfume; for me, it’s the feel of purple corduroy against my skin.
    I must admit, though, that at that point, I was optimistic about our future together. Saul and Sallie. Sallie and Saul. There was certain poetry to the combination of our names that convinced me that we were destined to become more than just a crackerjack songwriting team. I have an overactive imagination, and by the time he appeared, I already had us married, a rich and famous musical duo that was the toast of two coasts.
    “Hi, Sallie!” he said when I flung open the front door in response to his knock. “How’s it going?” He was