He looked beyond me. “Who’s the guy with Grandma?”
“Elmer. I flagged him down after I escaped, and I bribed him to drive me home.”
“Elmer? And he’s from the Barrens?”
“Yeah.”
“Honey, you didn’t bring Elmer the Fire Farter home with you, did you?”
I glanced back at Elmer. “He didn’t say he was the fire farter.”
Diesel hooked an arm around my neck and hugged me to him. “This is why I love you.”
“Everyone sit down,” my mother said, setting the tray of lasagna in the middle of the dining room table. “Frank,” she yelled to my father, “come to the table.”
“I already ate,” my father said.
“You can eat again. Stephanie is here with guests.”
My father heaved himself out of his chair. “The big one isn’t a guest. I don’t know what he is.”
“He’s like a member of the family,” Grandma said.
My father looked down the table at Diesel. “Heaven help us,” he said.
Grandma poured Elmer a glass of wine and gave him a slab of lasagna. “We got red sauce for the lasagna, too,” she said, passing the gravy boat to Elmer.
“This looks good,” Elmer said, digging in. “I can’t remember the last time I had a meal like this.”
Diesel ate some lasagna and leaned close to me. “This is filled with cheese and hot sausage. I hope Elmer isn’t lactose intolerant. He’ll burn his truck down on the way home.”
At the other end of the table, Elmer was shoveling the food in.
“He doesn’t look lactose intolerant,” I said. “He’s putting extra grated cheese on his lasagna.”
My father was swiveled around in his seat, trying to see the tele vision. He was missing a Seinfeld rerun.
“It was real nice of you to bring Stephanie home,” Grandma said to Elmer. “Do you live in the Pine Barrens?”
“Yep,” Elmer said. “It’s the best place on earth. It’s filled with interesting people, and you don’t hardly ever see any of them.”
“I go to Atlantic City once in a while,” Grandma said, “but the bus don’t stop in the Pine Barrens.”
“Too bad,” Elmer said. “We got some good things there. Antique stores and such.”
Grandma gave him a second helping of lasagna. “Do you have a job?”
“No. I’m retired. It’s hard for me to keep a job on account of I have an affliction.”
“What kind of affliction?” Grandma wanted to know.
“I can’t talk about it,” Elmer said. “It’s unmentionable.”
Diesel and I exchanged looks.
“Oh boy,” I said.
“Are we done yet?” my father asked.