Edna tried to think of how what she was looking at could be anything other than a fight between a boyfriend and a girlfriend, but she couldn’t think of one other thing it could be. Johnny has a girlfriend, she thought. The words didn’t seem like English. It was the most crushing blow of the summer. Edna woke up from what felt like a very long dream. The truth was Johnny could never like her when there were girls like that around, and Edna was out of her mind to think he did. So what if he’d kissed her? Maybe he kissed ten girls a day. He probably saw Jenny all the time, and he had a life outside the few minutes a week he came to the cabin. It was such a shame to realize this now. Edna still had the entire party to get through. Someone was speaking to her.
“So…so, you must be Edna,” Shep Caulfield said when he came back from the bathroom.
“Yes, thank you,” Edna mumbled, and she rudely walked away from him. She felt like her internal organs were melting. She needed a moment.
“Hey, Edna.”
Her face was bright red, but it was too late to avoid Johnny. Frankly, Edna was annoyed. He shouldn’t have kissed her if he had a girlfriend who seemed sixteen and whose chest was fully developed. It was horrible of him to have confused her like that.
“The place looks great.”
He sounded impressed. Even horrible, and with a girlfriend, he was nice.
“Thanks.”
“Do you know Jenny?”
“No, but we spoke on the phone. I saw you at the store.”
It took effort for Edna to be friendly. Jenny didn’t seem to think it was important to make the same or any effort and offered a blunt “hi” back. Edna wasn’t sure what to make of this girl. At Bishop’s and now, Jenny was just not good enough for Johnny. Even if they were having a fight, a person has to be able to muster up some kind of outward civility, Edna thought with smug satisfaction, until she realized she sounded like her mother.
Edna had hosted a lot of parties, so she was experienced enough to do it while focusing on every move Johnny made. According to the seating she’d carefully thought out ahead of time and designated with place cards written by hand, Johnny should have sat next to Edna, but when she brought out the iced tea, he was at the opposite end next to Jenny. Edna assumed Jenny moved their seats, but on second thought, maybe Johnny did it. He’d already told Edna he couldn’t kiss her, and he came to her party with a girlfriend. Why didn’t she take the hint? Freddy and Raul were also in the wrong seats, and their seats were empty. Everyone had probably just sat down without noticing the place cards.
“This is beautiful!”
Laura had a slightly depressing air about her no matter what she said.
“Thank you.”
“Hey, you guys are in the wrong spot,” Laura observed. “These have our names on them. How cute!”
“Oh.”
Raul and Freddy got up.
“No, please sit. Actually, they’re just nothing.”
Edna grabbed the cards and shuffled them around the table to match where people were sitting. When that was taking too long, she changed her mind and took them away. It was awkward, miserable. She didn’t want to sit next to Johnny anymore or let it be known that she ever did. It was good that Johnny didn’t seem to notice. He was talking to his grandmother and Laura, and not to Jenny on the other side of him.
Everyone loved Edna’s sandwiches and admired the pinwheels and pyramids she’d arranged them in. There were several choices, and she’d tried to make them as exceptional as possible with what was available at Bishop’s: a roast beef sandwich with pear slices and horseradish, chicken with bacon, dill and apple, and a grilled vegetable sandwich with lemon, parsley and balsamic vinegar. Proclaiming a favorite sandwich started the conversation at the table. Edna had never seen Johnny eat before, and she marveled as he bit into his sandwiches and politely passed plates back and forth. The basic behavior made him seem well-mannered in Edna’s eyes, which lingered on him for far too long. She couldn’t help herself. Nothing about this party had worked out except that he was going to be in front of her for a few hours. She could at least look at him. There was no point in planning anything ever again if things could turn out like this.
Raul clinked his fork against his glass, and the table quieted down.
“I’d like to say a few words about the man we’re here to celebrate today, our own Zeke.”
Oh, right. Him.
The party was for her grandfather, but if it were up to Edna, he would have been totally neglected. She hadn’t as much as glanced at him. Grandma at least made sure he had some sandwiches and wine. Grandpa hadn’t responded to the hubbub of all these people around him, and he didn’t respond when they all quieted down and looked at him. Edna took the needle off the bluegrass record for Raul’s speech. By the time Edna found out that Grandma had a turntable, she wasn’t even surprised; she just learned how to use it. Grandma only had five bluegrass records, but it was better than her static-filled radio.
Raul was sincerely choked up. He paused to collect himself, and in that moment, everyone was treated to what it sounded like when Grandpa enjoyed his food. He snorted through his nose as he chomped on his roast beef sandwich. He was oblivious to the other people at the table leaning toward him. His snort had a little whistle in it. It was innocent and probably a sign of happiness, but it was nonetheless very embarrassing. Edna should’ve known this would happen. Why did she tell Grandma to put him at the head of the table? He would have been just as happy on the porch.
Grandpa finished what were thankfully his last few bites, and he zoned out again. If this had happened at home, Edna would have had to change schools. It was hard to believe, but she had created all of this, inviting Johnny and his girlfriend to a gaggle of gray heads, and then showing off Grandpa’s table manners. It wasn’t some crazy mistake. She’d fought hard to have this party.
“Looks like Zeke’s enjoying the sandwiches as much as everybody else is,” Johnny said.
A little laughter followed his comment, and it washed the moment away. It was the second time he saved her from something. Edna wished she could take it personally. As it turned out, Johnny was just a nice person.
“They are good,” Raul said. “I’m so happy that Zeke has his wife, and his lovely granddaughter with him for the summer. You know, many vets have no one, myself included, who would make such a nice party in our honor, but if anybody should have it, Zeke’s the one. When I first came to this desert, I was doing pretty poorly, as most of you know, just running away. Then I met Zeke at the VA. At the time—this was seventeen years ago—he was a little more…more alert, I guess, but he was still pretty messed up, and I thought, here’s one mother’s more twisted up in the head than me!”
Freddy and Shep Caulfield burst out laughing.
“Must be some kind o’ pretzel in that head,” Raul added. He thought he was hysterical. “One of those ’specially, dark kinds, all burnt and crumbling—”
“Raul, watch out how you talk about my husband,” Grandma warned.
Raul stifled himself and nodded, too earnestly, suddenly remembering where he was. Winnie and Bill chuckled along with Freddy and Shep, but only to keep things congenial; it seemed they didn’t approve of Raul’s description of Zeke either. Edna couldn’t even look in the direction of Johnny and Jenny.
The laughter trailed off, but one voice laughed louder. Grandpa was chuckling, too. The table quieted down for his final few chuckles. Was he laughing or just imitating the sounds around him or what? It was impossible to tell, and then it was over. The look on Grandpa’s face made him seem aware, but Edna thought she could just be reading into it.
“I’d like to welcome Zeke to his own party.” Raul said, “And I’d also just like to say that when Zeke was more…around, you know, he had a way of making everyone at the hall feel better, like, if he was there, it was a good place to be. He didn’t even know what I was going through at the time but I gotta tell you—”
“Enough yappin’!” Freddy interrupted,
and Laura gasped, “Freddy!”
“—this isn’t your AA meeting. I’m gonna start crying.”
“You don’t understand, you son-of-a—”
“Raul!” Grandma yelled.
“Sorry, Mary.”
Somehow this had become an argument between Raul and Freddy.
“All I gotta say is that Zeke was a great friend at a critical time for me. He understood everything firsthand, and he saved my life. He’s a great Marine and a great American.”
The sheriff lifted his glass.
“I’ll drink to that.”
They all sipped something. Edna thanked God that Raul’s speech was over. This was turning out to be one bizarre party. She decided to get Grandma’s cakes out earlier than she might have done if she was having a good time. Edna had thought her biggest problem with the party would be that it would fly by, but instead she couldn’t wait for it to end. Anything less than sitting next to Johnny so they could talk and fall in love for a few hours was unacceptable and bitterly disappointing.
She knew that Grandpa might make the same noise eating cake as sandwiches, and possibly more so. She considered not giving him any cake in that case, but that would be mean and unethical. “Eating cake with people” was the reason she’d argued for this party in the first place. Grandpa probably loved Grandma’s Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, so he was going to have some, and it was not going to be pretty. Things couldn’t get much worse socially for Edna, but it wasn’t like there was a reason to care what anyone at the party thought anymore. It was starting to get dark, and it would be over soon anyway. She turned on Grandma’s Christmas lights and raised the volume of the bluegrass record. It might drown Grandpa out.
The music elevated the anticipation of the evening’s attraction, which Edna hadn’t so much as tasted yet. She hoped she wouldn’t hate Pineapple Upside-Down Cake for the rest of her life because it would remind her of this party. Edna was briefly taken out of her misery by how happy Grandma was: she was actually humming while she transferred the three luscious beauties onto china cake stands that Edna dug out of the garage the day before yesterday. The cakes looked just like the picture from 1964, except they were real and in color.
“They’re gorgeous.”
“If it wasn’t for you, Edna, I never would have done this.”
It was merely true, and Grandma was very matter-of-fact about it.
“You go out first, Grandma.”
Everyone cheered when they presented the cakes. Bill rubbed his hands together.
“I’ve really been looking forward to these cakes!”
Winnie informed everyone, “He’s going off the sugar wagon for one night!”
These people couldn’t have been more excited, or at least they had the courtesy to act like it. It was nice. Everyone was so bored in Brentwood, it was impossible to keep thinking of new things to do that would impress them. Here all you had to do was bake a cake. Edna served, looking forward to the fleeting pleasure of standing near Johnny for a moment. While putting cake on his plate, she noticed Jenny’s hard stare and, thrown off, she let the gooey dessert tumble onto Johnny.
“I’m sorry!” Edna gasped.
“It’s OK.”
Actually, it was a mess. Johnny’s lap was covered with sticky, sugary pineapple. Jenny held her hand over her mouth, but Edna could tell she was smiling when she said, “Oh my God!” Laura said, “Oh my goodness.” Conversations continued after a glance. Dumped cake was not a big deal around here. Edna helped Johnny pick up the mangled stuff.
“Here, come inside,” she told him.
He followed her into the kitchen. She handed him a dish towel and grabbed one herself.
“I guess you got me back for dumping that dirt on you,” he said.
“No, I’m a clumsy idiot. I wouldn’t get you back.”
Edna kneeled down and looked distinctly like she was about to clean the sticky sugar off the front of his jeans, but Johnny grabbed her wrist before she could complete the action.
“That’s OK.”
He took a dish towel into the bathroom.
“Oh, I…”
If Edna had thought about it, she’d never have reached into a boy’s groin area uninvited, or otherwise, at this point in her life. She knocked on the bathroom door.
“Johnny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…invade your privacy…exactly like I am now.”
“No worries.”
Edna melted against the door.
“Where’s Johnny?”
Jenny held an unlit cigarette.
“He’s in the bathroom.”
Edna abandoned the scene with Jenny’s entrance but heard her say, “Can we get out of here?” before she made it into the pantry. She got the old newspaper article about Grandma’s cake and stayed in there longer than she would have if she hadn’t been numbly wishing this party away. The bluegrass got louder. It would be so nice to lie down and listen to bluegrass. It sounded like heaven. Edna was exhausted.
When she came outside Grandpa was back in his chair on the porch. Most of the guests were dancing some kind of a square dance. Bill swung Winnie off her feet. Johnny’s grandparents were so different than hers. None of them looked like they knew what they were doing except that they knew how to have a good time. Jenny was off in the darkness, smoking cigarettes with Freddy. Johnny talked to Shep at the table. Edna wondered what they could possibly be talking about. She wished she had any confidence that Johnny would dance with her if she asked him to. It pleased her that he was fiddling with a tissue flower she’d made, but not nearly enough. If she hadn’t been so shocked and devastated, she’d consider the party a huge success. Even Grandma was having fun: she stood near the dancing and clapped.
Edna was lingering on the porch when Grandpa put his hands down on the arms of his chair and pushed himself up. She’d seen him look like he was going to get up before, but he’d never actually done it in front of her without Grandma’s coaxing. He stepped to the railing. Only Edna, Grandma and then Johnny took note of this. He looked conscious. If he was going to say something, Edna wanted to be close enough to hear it. She’d never stood next to her grandfather and looked up at him before. He was taller than she’d thought. He looked down at her and smiled. Edna couldn’t tell if he recognized her before he looked away. He put his hands in his pockets and tapped his foot to the music like anyone’s grandpa might.
“Grandpa?”
He didn’t say anything, but it was a transformation. It only lasted a short while, maybe half a song. Grandpa turned and held onto Edna briefly as he sat back down. She sat next to him quietly, like they always did, only it was dark and they were watching people dance instead of the empty desert. It was the best few minutes she had at the party.
Edna tried not to look like she was focusing on Johnny when she took some pictures later, and after the dancers were danced out, she passed around Grandma’s old newspaper article. It was hard to convince Grandma this was a good idea, but Edna knew it would spark conversation about how beautiful Grandma was, San Diego in the 1960s, and how much they all loved the Pineapple Upside-Down Cake. It inspired second helpings and was a perfect way to end the party.
Edna couldn’t watch Johnny and Jenny leave together, so she lost herself in the kitchen in the sea of dirty cake plates and baking mess. When Johnny found her to say good-bye, she didn’t even look up. She just mumbled “bye” with her eyes fixed on the bubbles and water as she swished the forks around. Before she knew it, she was standing with Grandma as their last guests, Raul and Freddy, disappeared into the darkness on their buzzing motorcycles.
“That was a wonderful party, Edna.”
Grandma sounded like she really thought so. Edna burst into tears. As she cried on the steps of the porch, in Grandma’s lap, of all places, she realized it was the first time she and Grandma had ever sat together except to eat, and wondered why Grandma didn’t ask her why she was crying. That was weird. Or maybe she knew.
“It was very nice of yo
u to make this party for Grandpa.”
Grandpa was still there, a few feet away in his chair. Edna sniffed into one of his old hankies she’d bleached and ironed perfectly.
“You’ve been doing a lot of good things since you came here. The porch looks much better painted.”
She’d only painted the porch to make their ramshackle cabin look presentable.
“I can tell you’re a good girl.”
Edna didn’t have either the heart or the guts to tell Grandma that she wasn’t—that she’d only had the party because she wanted a date with Johnny and that, in fact, she’d exploited Grandma for the cake. Then she’d clumsily dropped it on him, or, worse, she’d subconsciously done so because she wanted his attention. There were so many reasons she was horrible. She was a deceptive person, too weak to admit it, and her plan had failed. She’d never tried this hard at anything and not succeeded, and the tears burst out of sheer frustration, along with everything else. Edna really had to get a hold of herself. The last time she was this emotional she had to go for a million tests.
“Thank you, Grandma. The cake was delicious.”
She sobbed more. She still had a lot of work to do if she wasn’t going to be the same girl she was when she got here.
“You were right that Grandpa needed this,” Grandma added.
Edna sniffed. She had no idea.
“Maybe.”
“I haven’t seen him happy in a long time. And everyone enjoyed themselves. That’s something to be proud of. I don’t think I could have done it as nicely.”
Grandma was thinking of comforting things to say. Edna thought she was much better at it than her mother. Grandma didn’t communicate much, but when she did, she was focused. And she was right. Everyone did have a good time, except Edna and probably Johnny, the only two people who mattered. But maybe they weren’t the only ones. People who hadn’t seen Grandpa in years might remember how he ate, but they’d also remember him laugh. And he got to laugh, if that’s what it was, and he stood up on his own and tapped his foot to music. In fact, Grandpa was as animated as Edna could ever remember. Her sobs subsided. She sniffed and sat up.
Edna in the Desert Page 12
