Perfect Girl - Weebly

Mom circled the block a couple of times, looking for a
place to park. Finally, she gave up and pulled into a pay
garage. She pulled right out, though, when they told her it
would cost more than a hundred dollars to leave her car
there all weekend. Circling again, Mom stopped in front of
Aunt Marty’s.
“Ask your aunt what I should do,” she said, idling in
front of a tall building with a long green awning. “She’s in
apartment twenty-two.”
Before I could unlatch my seat belt, a door man appeared
at the car door. He wore a navy-blue suit with gold buttons.
Even though it was hot out, he wasn’t sweating at all. He
reached for my door with white-gloved hands. When I
finally managed to get out, the doorman smiled and walked
me into the building.
“My aunt is in apartment twenty-two,” I said. “I need
to ask her where my mom should park.”
Nodding, he said, “Wait here.” I watched him go back
out to the curb and talk to my mother. He pointed his glove
down the street, and Mom disappeared.
Aunt Marty’s lobby was gorgeous. It smelled like roses
and wood polish. The marble floor was so shiny I could see
myself in it. There were two elevators, surrounded by brass.
“Mrs. Arenson, right?”
I blinked. Is it possible my mother never told me Aunt
Marty’s last name? Of course it was. I was already eleven,
and I’d only seen her once before, when I was a baby.
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