RELUCTANT PRESS

and pulled it up to her waist. I did the same with the skirt and zipped it on the side. I stood up and held the blouse in front of her while she slipped her arms through the sleeves. I had started to move behind her to button it when she shouted.

"Do you call this ironed? It's a mess! Go back and do it right!"

I knew that I had not done a good job, but she did not have to yell. After all, she said she was in a hurry. I went back to the kitchen, glad at least that I had not put the things away. This time, I went slowly, taking time to steam out the wrinkles, one by one. I used spray starch to give the white blouse a nice crisp look. I was just about to finish the back when the doorbell rang. Damn! What was I going to do now?

"Would you get that, Danny?" called Susie from her bed-

room.

"But I think it's your friends, Susie."

"I know it's my friends, silly. Now hurry up and let them in!"

After all this time being so secret about our relationship, I could not believe that Susie wanted me to be seen here. How would she explain my presence? More nervous than I had ever been, I opened the door to face three girls with overnight bags, all of whom knew me from school.

They greeted me with a cheerful, "Hi Danny," casually as they paraded past me, as though nothing was out of the ordinary. The last one in, Linda Baker, added, "Cute apron, Danny," which made me turn red. I had totally forgotten about my appearance.

Susie came bouncing down the stairs to greet her friends and invited them to the kitchen for a snack. Now what was I to do? The unfinished blouse was still on the ironing board in the kitchen. The same kitchen that had now been invaded by four giggling females.

"Danny? Are you finished yet?" called Mrs. Wales from up-

stairs.

I considered bolting out the door and running home. That response I knew would get both Mrs. Wales and Susie mad and I would probably not be allowed in their house again.

RUFFLES & CURLES

By Kammi Morton

"Susie, can I see you a minute? Out here?"

"What is it Danny? What's wrong?" asked Susie in a concerned way.

"I have a problem. Your mother needs her blouse ironed, but it's in the kitchen. Will you finish it for her and I'll run along now," I explained, starting to untie the apron strings behind my back.

"Why can't you finish it? I have my friends here."

"But I can't do that in front of them. It's too embarrassing. Please, Susie."

"Don't be ridiculous, Danny. You come in here!" she ordered firmly, taking hold of my hand and just about dragging me back to the kitchen.

"You girls don't mind if Danny finishes his ironing while we eat, do you?"

There was a chorus of, "Of course not," while Susie retied the bow in the back of my apron.

I got behind the ironing board and resumed my task, glad that I had to look down and not face the girls. This was the most humiliating thing I had ever done.

"Gee, Susie, that's great that he irons your clothes too," I heard Karen Allen say.

"Oh, that's my mother's blouse. He did all my ironing on Wednesday," replied Susie boastfully.

"Lucky you! I hate that job," said the third girl, Becky Jones.

I wanted so much to rush but did not want to incur the wrath of Mrs. Wales, especially with the girls here, so proceeded carefully until the blouse was smooth as a baby's bottom. Without a word, I left the room, keeping my eyes downcast, and as I climbed the stairs I heard a burst of laughter from the kitchen.

From the smell at the top of the stairs, I knew that Mrs. Wales had polished her nails and sure enough, she was just putting the brush back on the bottle when I came in. This time she thoroughly examined the blouse before I helped her put it on.

"Much better," was her only comment. No, "Thank you very much, Danny," 'or, "What a nice job, Danny".

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