Outrageously Alice

by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

  I went up and sat down outside the bathroom door to make sure he didn’t fall or anything, and a few minutes later I heard him singing in the shower. I wasn’t sure, but I think it was “Fascination.” I had to leave him once, though, when the phone rang. It was Janice Sherman wanting to tell Dad about a gorgeous piece of organ music she’d heard in church that morning, and how we ought to buy it for the store. I could hear an orchestra playing in the background. I guess I always wondered how Janice Sherman spent her weekends. I imagined her sitting at a desk writing letters to her cousins and listening to Vivaldi. I don’t know Vivaldi from Verdi, but I know they’re the kinds of composers she’d listen to.

  I told her about Dad’s falling off the ladder. “Oh, my goodness! How is he?”

  “Well, we had him in the emergency room, but he’s better now,” I said. I was careful not to say who “we” were. Janice has been in love with my dad since he became manager at the Melody Inn.

  “Poor Ben!” she said. “If there’s anything I can do …”

  “I’ll tell him,” I said.

  The minute I hung up, Dr. Beverly called to ask how Dad was doing, and I said he was singing in the shower.

  “That’s a good sign,” he told me.

  It was after eight when Miss Summers came back. Dad had just finished watching 60 Minutes, and Miss Summers walked in carrying a cardboard box with six plastic containers of her soup, two loaves of bread, some oranges, and a bouquet of mums from her garden.

  “How’s the patient?” she asked me, taking her stuff to the kitchen. Then she saw Dad sitting at the table with a ginger ale. Even I could smell his aftershave. “Ben McKinley, what are you doing all shaved and dressed?” she asked.

  “Waiting for a lovely nurse to bring my dinner,” he said.

  It was good soup, with lots of onions in it, and the bread was thick and warm, with little pieces of herbs. I was chattering on about hospitals and how much I hate them when we heard Lester come in.

  He hung up his jacket in the closet and sauntered on out to the kitchen, then came to a stop.

  “Hello? Did I forget we were having company, Dad?” he asked.

  “Hi, Lester,” said Miss Summers, smiling. “Of course you didn’t. It’s a surprise visit, that’s all.”

  “This whole day has been a surprise,” said Dad, and he filled Lester in on what had happened.

  “So I get here after all the heavy lifting, huh? Hey, Dad, next time you try this, at least wear Rollerblades so they can wheel you around,” Lester joked.

  It was fun having Lester at the table. He made Miss Summers laugh, but he could also be serious. At one point he and Dad and Miss Summers were all discussing Tolstoy’s novels, and I could tell by the way Dad sat back, listening to Lester argue his case, that he was enjoying the conversation.

  See what an interesting family we could be? I implored Miss Summers with my eyes, but she was already bringing out another surprise: homemade rice pudding with cinnamon on top. “Not exactly the most exciting dish in the world, but it goes down easily,” she told Dad.

  The doorbell rang, and I went to answer. There stood Janice Sherman, holding a large aluminum pot with a cover on it. It must have still been hot because she was wearing oven mitts. Before I could say a single word, she walked right in.

  “This is absolutely scalding, Alice, but I thought the best thing I could do for Ben would be to make him a pot of my potato-leek soup. I’m famous for it, you know,” she said as she headed down the hall toward the kitchen. “I hope I’m not too late for …”

  She never finished her sentence. I saw her pause in the doorway, and heard the clunk as she set the pot on our stove.

  “We love potato soup!” I croaked, following her in.

  “Janice, this is … I mean was … my English teacher, Sylvia Summers. Miss Summers, this is Janice Sherman, Dad’s assistant at the Melody Inn.”

  Miss Summers had popped a bite of bread in her mouth and swallowed hastily. “I’m so glad to know you,” she said.

  “I didn’t realize you were already eating or I could have brought it later,” Janice said stiffly.

  “Janice, you didn’t need to go to all this work, but it was very thoughtful of you,” Dad told her. “Won’t you sit down and have some supper with us?”

  Was Dad crazy? I wondered, but I guess he knew she’d refuse.

  “Oh, no. Actually, I’m rushing home to watch Masterpiece Theatre,” Janice said, taking off the oven mitts and thrusting one in each pocket of her coat, where they stuck out like ears.

  “Are you a fan of that program too?” asked Miss Summers. “You could eat some soup and watch it here.”

  That did bother me. If a woman was in love with a man, why would she want another woman staying for dinner? To test the competition?

  But Janice wasn’t about to take the consolation prize.

  “Actually, I’ve got my own dinner in the oven,” she said, which I’ll bet was a lie, because I know if Dad were alone and had asked her to stay, she would have let her food burn in order to keep him company. “But thanks, anyway. And Ben”—she put one hand on his shoulder as though he belonged to her—“take care of yourself.”

  “I will, Janice. With all you nurses around, I can’t do anything but get better.”

  “Do you really think she has dinner in the oven?” I whispered to Lester after Janice left, and Dad and Miss Summers were putting food away.

  “As likely as an ingrown toenail on the end of her nose,” he said, and we laughed.

  We told Dad and Miss Summers to go relax in the living room while we cleaned up.

  “Thanks, Les, I hoped you’d say that,” Dad told him.

  “I’ve got to be going soon,” said Miss Summers. “I still have papers to grade before tomorrow.”

  “You can at least stay long enough to enjoy the fire I built the other night, then forgot to light,” Lester said. “Marilyn called, and I just never got around to it.” He took some matches off the shelf and went into the living room. I heard him rolling up newspaper as Dad and Miss Summers followed him in.

  When Lester came back to the kitchen, he said to me, “Well, I’ve done my part. The rest is up to Cupid.”

  “Do you think she loves him, Les?”

  “He loves her, that’s obvious.”

  “But …?”

  “If she doesn’t, she’s certainly put a lot of time into looking after someone she doesn’t care about.”

  “She cares, but does she love him?”

  Lester sighed. “Define love,” he said cynically, and then, “I get any mail today?”

  “Today’s Sunday.”

  “Oh. Right.” We rinsed the dishes off and set them in the dishwasher, and then he said, “Dad told me he got an invitation to Crystal’s wedding. I just wondered if she mailed one to me and it got lost or something.”

  “I didn’t see any.”

  “Then I suppose not.” He put detergent in the dishwasher and closed the door. “I guess I thought we could at least be friends.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a little embarrassing to have you there, Lester? Maybe it would bring back memories she’d rather not have on her wedding day.”

  I was putting the best spin on it I could, and Lester perked up. “That’s probably it. Yeah, I suppose that’s it. What’s Dad giving her, do you know?”

  “A gift certificate for the Melody Inn. Help them start a really nice CD collection.”

  “Yeah, she’d like that,” said Lester.

  We stayed in the kitchen as long as we could, not wanting to bother Dad and Miss Summers. I wanted her to realize how easily she could have lost him, if not to illness, then to Janice Sherman. I wanted her to know how lonely she’d be if she had, and how she belonged here, on our sofa in front of the fireplace. The fact was, of course, that Dad hadn’t been about to die, she hadn’t almost lost him to Janice Sherman, but didn’t she have any imagination?

  Later, when I passed the doorway to put Janice’s pot in the re
frigerator, I saw Dad and Miss Summers by the front door. She had her coat on and they were standing about three inches apart. He had his hands on her waist, and she had hers folded behind his neck. They were smiling at each other.

  I moved quickly away, but I couldn’t resist one last peek. This time she was in his arms with her hands on his chest, his chin resting on top of her head. They were rocking slowly from side to side, as though dancing to some music only they could hear—the most gentle, loving embrace I’d ever seen.

  I swallowed and wiped my eyes with two fingers.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Les, hanging up the towel.

  “Love,” I said, and sniffled.

  * * *

  On Monday, of course, Elizabeth and Pamela wanted all the details, and we were still talking about it when Mr. Everett was starting class.

  “It’s fate,” said Elizabeth with certainty. “I think God planned it so that your dad would fall off the ladder on a day that Miss Summers would be home, so that they would end up in each other’s arms.”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Couldn’t God have thought up something a little less dangerous?”

  “If it was less dangerous, Miss Summers wouldn’t have been so concerned, and she might have just visited him at the hospital, and that would be that,” said Elizabeth.

  “Miss Price,” said Mr. Everett, “why is it that whenever I’m ready to start the class, you are not?”

  That wasn’t exactly true. Most of the time, Elizabeth was more than ready. I guess even the best teachers are entitled to an off day now and then, but Elizabeth embarrasses easily, and her face turned as red as her notebook. This was the second time he’d singled her out. She sat with her eyes on her desk for half the period, and when the bell rang at last, and I apologized to her, telling her I was as much at fault as she was, she said, “Well, one good thing, anyway; I’m not in love with Mr. Everett anymore.”

  * * *

  The following Wednesday, I dressed in my best shiny black pants, a white rayon blouse, and a red-and-gold vest that my cousin Carol had sent me for Christmas. Crystal had said someone would pick me up at six for the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, so I watched out the window, my coat over my arm.

  “It does seem a strange time for a wedding,” Dad said, walking through the rooms, emptying the wastebaskets. The rehearsal was the night before Thanksgiving, and the wedding was to be the day after, which meant everyone would pig out on the day in between—Thanksgiving. “The bride might eat so much, she won’t fit into her gown.”

  “What are we doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked. Sometimes Dad makes a reservation at a restaurant and we all go out.

  “Lester’s invited Marilyn, and I’ve asked Janice to join us,” Dad said. “Sylvia’s going to fly to her sister’s over the holidays. They haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

  “Oh,” I said. Ever since Janice Sherman had her uterus removed, I think Dad’s felt a little sorry for her, and includes her when he can. But I don’t think a woman should go around using her hysterectomy to get special attention, and I still wished it was Miss Summers instead of Janice.

  The phone rang. It was Patrick.

  “Hi. Whatcha doing?”

  “I’m dressed like you wouldn’t believe. The rehearsal dinner,” I told him. “Crystal’s getting married on Friday.”

  “Oh, that,” said Patrick. “Wouldn’t it be weird if the minister forgot and pronounced them man and wife during the rehearsal, and they figured since they were already married they could just skip the wedding, so they went on their honeymoon two days early, and when people came to the wedding the bride and groom were gone?”

  Had Patrick always been like that, I wondered, and I just hadn’t noticed?

  “Yeah, that would be a scream,” I said as the doorbell rang. “Hold on a minute.”

  I put the phone down and opened the front door. There was this handsome guy, and I knew right away it must be the groom’s younger brother.

  “Alice, I presume?” he said.

  I smiled. “Yes. Danny?”

  “At your service,” he said. “Everybody was rushing around like mad back at the hotel, so Crystal asked if I’d pick you up.”

  “I’m ready,” I said. Then I remembered Patrick. “Just a minute.” I picked up the phone again.

  “Who’s that?” asked Patrick.

  “Danny, brother of the groom. He’s driving me to the rehearsal. I’ve gotta go, Patrick.”

  “Well, go! You’ve got a bathroom, haven’t you?” Patrick said, and laughed.

  “I mean it.”

  “What’s this guy look like? Tall, dark, and handsome?”

  “Now that you mention it, yes. Listen, I really …”

  “How old is he?”

  “Patrick, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “What time will you be back?”

  “I don’t know. Late. See you!” I said, and hung up.

  “Boyfriend?” asked Danny as he helped me on with my coat.

  “Something like that,” I said, and felt guilty. Patrick might act immature sometimes, but he was still one of the nicest guys I knew. Not that I’d known all that many, of course.

  Dad walked in from the dining room.

  “Oh, Dad, this is Danny … uh …”

  “Carey,” said the boy. “That’s French. Just kidding.”

  Dad smiled wryly. “You the driver?”

  “Yes, sir! Want to see my license?” Danny made as though to take out his wallet.

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take your word for it if you promise to get my daughter there and back safely. You won’t be drinking, I trust?”

  I was embarrassed that Dad was treating me like his precious little daughter and, at the same time, pleased that I was precious to him.

  “No, sir! Your designated driver,” Danny said, turning to me.

  We went out to his car, and Danny opened the door for me, then went around and got in on the driver’s side. “Better fasten your seat belt,” he said. “Your dad’s watching from the window.”

  I laughed.

  He asked what kind of music I liked, and I said, “Any kind,” so he turned on the radio and got some jazz. The church wasn’t very far away, maybe twenty minutes from our house, so we didn’t have to make conversation for long. He said he was a senior in high school in New Jersey and had applied to seven different colleges. He wanted to go into engineering.

  “Are you thinking about a career yet, or is eighth grade a little soon?” he asked.

  “Oh, no, it’s not too early to think about that,” I said. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, actually. I’m planning to become a psychiatrist.”

  “Really!” he said, and glanced over at me to see if I was joking. “Well! Interesting choice! Interesting people make interesting choices, so you must be fascinating.”

  “Very,” I said, and we laughed.

  Crystal’s mother was orchestrating the rehearsal, and she wanted everything to go perfectly, so it made me a little nervous when I realized I’d be the first bridesmaid down the aisle. I kept reminding myself what Patrick had said, about the bride and groom getting married accidentally during the rehearsal and taking off, just to keep my sense of humor.

  As I was standing at the altar, though, in the V shape Mrs. Harkins had arranged us in, I could see both Crystal and Peter and the pews for the congregation, and it seemed as though we were rehearsing not just for Crystal’s wedding but for life: going through our paces, thinking about the “for better or worse.” Nobody knew what would happen tomorrow even, much less ten years from now. Life suddenly seemed more serious than it had before. But the rehearsal dinner was fun. Everyone piled into cars again and headed for a restaurant. By the time we’d all helped ourselves at the buffet table, I’d met about a dozen different people.

  “Where did you say you’d met Crystal?” Danny’s mother asked me as we both took a chocolate-covered strawberry at the same time.

/>   “Just an old family friend,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask more. I popped another strawberry in my mouth, and I guess she figured I was in no condition to answer more questions, because she started talking to someone else.

  Mr. Carey drove me home afterward. I guess I was a little disappointed. I was hoping I could see more of Danny. Dad was relieved simply to see me.

  “I’m glad you’re home safe, honey,” he said. “I’ll have to admit I’m not looking forward to the time your friends have driver’s licenses and you’re out riding around.”

  I kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve got two and a half years before that happens,” I said, and went upstairs to change. I was thinking how Danny had perked up when I said I was going to be a psychiatrist. Like here was a girl who knew where she was going. Here was a girl with smarts. I wondered what he’d think if he knew I’d gone to school a few weeks ago with my hair in green spikes.

  I guess that the kind of person you really are will win out in the end; it’s not something, like green mousse, you can just apply. Everyone will know it’s phony. Like Danny said, interesting people do interesting things, and I guess the way not to be boring was not to be bored myself.

  I stood in front of my mirror to admire myself one more time before I took off my fancy clothes. I thought about mom’s three miscarriages and how very much she and Dad had wanted me. Who was this girl I was looking at? I wondered. A future wife? A mother? A psychiatrist? All three?

  12

  THE WALTZ

  IT WAS A STRANGE THANKSGIVING. FOR me, anyway. I suppose that for everyone else it was a great Thanksgiving. But for me the “big day” would arrive the day after.

  Janice Sherman came bringing everything, practically, but the turkey and pies. It looked as though she had cleaned out her refrigerator. Marilyn brought the pies and rolls.

  Sitting across from Marilyn and looking around the table, I wondered what everyone was thinking. Dad, I knew, was missing Miss Summers, but he’d rather she was with her sister than with Mr. Sorringer, that’s for sure.

  Janice was delighted to find that Miss Summers was out of town, and must have felt she had a chance with Dad, because she wore a wool dress that clung to her body like a wet T-shirt. Marilyn and Lester and I were probably the only ones at the table who were thinking about Crystal.