“Maybe we should just try putting a file in something,” Dave suggested.
“It’s a shame,” Lorraine continued. “They practically assured him he’d get out this time. Then there was that shake-up in prison management. I guess that hurt him more than anything. Everybody has his own axe to grind.”
“It’s probably just as well,” Marty said. “If he came out, there’d be a lot of decisions to make. He’d have to find a job and fill out tax forms…”
“True,” Dave chimed in. “He’d have to worry about getting from place to place, having enough change to make phone calls…It’s probably better that he’s gotta stay in the joint.”
Lorraine frowned, looked at both of them angrily. George McFly did not look up from his homework.
“I wish you’d show a little more respect,” Lorraine said. “He’s my brother, you know.”
“Well, I think it’s a major embarrassment, having an uncle in prison,” Linda murmured.
“We all make mistakes in life, children,” Lorraine said philosophically.
“Yeah, but Uncle Joey made them consecutively,” Dave smiled. “And while on parole. That’s not only a mistake, that’s plain dumb.”
Lorraine didn’t answer. Instead she took another helping of potatoes.
Looking once again at the clock, Dave wiped his mouth and pushed his chair back. “Damn,” he said. “I’m gonna be late again.”
“Please watch your language,” his mother warned.
“Hell, yes,” Dave said, getting up and starting for the front door. A moment later, they heard his car start up and roar off. Marty wished he owned his own car, even a heap like Dave’s. At least he would be independent; if something went wrong with the car, he would have only himself to blame.
“By the way,” Lorraine said. “That girl Jennifer called…wants you to call her back.”
Marty nodded.
“I think her last name was Parker.”
“I know her last name, Mom.”
“But it could have been another Jennifer, couldn’t it?”
“Yes, but I don’t know any other Jennifers right now.”
“Sorry,” his mother said, scooping up the remains of her potatoes with a crust of bread. “Anyway, I’m not sure I like her. Any girl who calls up a boy is looking for trouble.”
Marty and Linda exchanged a meaningful glance. Had their mother lost her marbles?
“Oh, Mother,” Linda muttered, “there’s nothing wrong with calling a boy.”
“Well, I think it’s terrible,” Lorraine persisted. “Girls chasing boys—whoever heard of such a thing? I never chased a boy when I was your age. I never called a boy, or asked a boy for a date or sat in a parked car with a boy…”
What a dull childhood, Marty thought.
“Because when you behave like that, boys won’t respect you, Linda. They’ll think you’re cheap.”
Linda rolled her eyes. She’d heard it several hundred times already, although it probably seemed like at least one million.
“Then how are you supposed to meet anybody?” she asked.
“It’ll just happen,” Lorraine smiled. “Like the way I met your father.”
“But that was so stupid!” Linda whined. “Grandpa hit him with a car.”
“It was meant to be.”