Dare to Dream

8

(8)

Elaine got up, turning from Gina so she wouldn't see the smile on her face.

“I think I will start serving supper.”

“Need any help?” Gina asked.

“No, not really,” Elaine said.

“Yes you do,” Gina said as she got up quickly and pushed her way past her into the kitchen.

As soon as Elaine entered the kitchen, Gina turned.

“What the fuck was that?”

Elaine started laughing.

“I don't know, sweetie.”

Gina shook her head.

“He flexed his pecks at me. How old is he? 16?”

Elaine took the lasagne out of the oven, trying to hide her laughter.

When she put it on the counter, Gina made a face at it.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Steve is a vegetarian,” Elaine explained.

“I found a recipe for vegetarian lasagne on the internet.”

“You are shittin’ me?”

Gina rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Elaine put her hand on Gina’s arm.

“I am sorry, hun. Troy said he was a normal decent dude.”

Gina looked toward the dining room, then back at Elaine.

“You have lots of wine?”

Elaine nodded.

“Good,” Gina said, picking up the lasagne.

“I’m gonna need it.”

Dinner was quiet . Gina sat next to Steve, but said nothing.

It was Steve who broke the uneasy silence.

“So, Gina, what do you do for work?”

“I am an assistant manager at the restaurant, Baker’s,” Gina said proudly.

Steve nodded.

“Most single moms with few skills end up in the service industry or retail. It is usually the best that they can get with their limited abilities.”

Gina stopped eating and stared at Steve.

“Excuse me, but I enjoy my job and I have quite a few responsibilities.”

“Baker’s is a very busy restaurant,” Elaine added.

“Gina basically runs the place.”

Steve drank his bottled water.

“I’m sure it is, but all I am saying is that you need no real education to be in that position.”

Gina wanted to stick a knife in his throat, but held back.

“So what do you do, Steve,” a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“I’m a dry waller. I put up and prepare drywall in new buildings. You know, all the prep work before the painters start.”

Steve pushed out his chest as he spoke.

“Did you have to take special classes for that?” Gina asked, more sarcasm in her voice.

Steve did not seem to notice.

“I have a carpentry ticket,” Steve said, “but this is not what I really want to do.”

Gina sipped her fourth glass of wine. She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand.

“And what is your dream job, Steve.”

“I want to be a personal trainer and help people get into the best shape they can,” he said quickly and with a hint of excitement in his voice.

Gina simply nodded as she had a mouthful of lasagne.

Steve continued. 

“I want to help men and women, like you, be in the best shape they can.”

Gina nearly spit out her lasagne.