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Show Inside Out, 24 Chapter 5: Andli I burst through the door. "Sorry I'm late!" I yelled, running to my room to put my stuff away. I plugged in my laptop and powered it up so it would be ready right after dinner-to do homework on, I told myself. Not to see if J had written more. Leslie, Paul and Dad were already eating. "I'm sorry," I said again, pulling out a chair. "I was working and I lost track of the time." "That's OK," Dad said in his trying-to-pretend-he-wasn't-annoyed voice. Leslie said, very cheerfully, "How was school?" Really, it was pitiful how she tried so hard to be a mother. When would she give it up? She was wearing a t-shirt but somehow managed to look classy and professional. How did she do it? I couldn't figure it out. From pictures and my own memories, I knew Mom had never been as dressy as Leslie. She had been more the jeans type while Leslie was bangles. Mom was whole-wheat and Leslie was spinach-and Portobello crepes. Like these enchiladas, for example. Dad had told Leslie that enchiladas were my favorite. But they weren't my favorite anymore. Leslie's recipe was for chicken enchiladas with lime and cilantro and a green sauce. Mom had made ground beef enchiladas in red sauce. Leslie's enchiladas were good. But they weren't Mom's. Leslie had met Dad in a salon where he had gone to get his hair cut right before a convention in Salt Lake. Then, when they got married, he transferred to Salt Lake so that Leslie could keep working. These days she cut hair and painted people's toenails while Paul was in school, but came home before Paul got home from school. She was throwing |