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?Why?? Helen asked with a grimace. ?It doesn?t matter when I
come back, no one?s ever going to forget this.?
?True. It was pretty bad,? Claire said. She paused for a moment
before speaking in a rush. ?You scared the crap of me, you know.?
?Sorry,? Helen apologized with a weak smile. ?So, was he in
school today?? For some reason she felt like she just had to know,
but she couldn?t bring herself to say his name out loud.
?Yeah. He asked me about you. Well, he didn?t actually talk to
me, but Jason did. He?s a jackass, by the way.? Claire started talking
with increasing heat. ?Get this. So he comes up to me at lunch,
right? And he starts asking me all these questions about you. Like,
how long have I known you, where are you from, did I ever meet
your mom before she skipped town . . .?
?My mom? That?s weird,? Helen interrupted.
?And I start answering him with my usual flair for clever repartee,?
Claire said, a bit too innocently.
?Translation: you insulted him.?
?Whatever. Then that chump had the huevos to call me ?little
girl?! Can you believe it??
?Imagine. You, described as ?little,?? Helen said in a droll voice.
?So what did you tell him??
?The truth. That we?ve been friends since birth and neither of us
really remembers your mom, and that she didn?t leave any pictures
or anything, but that your dad?s always going on about how she
was this incredible beauty and how she was so smart and talented
and everything, and blah-blah-blah. It doesn?t take a rocket scientist
to figure out that your mom had to be hot. I mean, look at your
dad and then look at you,? Claire said with a knowing glint in her
eyes.