by Paloma Meir
“Thank you. I’m going to have to eat fast and go home; Saturday morning chores.”
Every Saturday morning Carolina and Serge cleaned their whole house, top to bottom while their Mother lay in bed probably feeling the way we did that morning. I liked drinking but the aftereffects I could do without. I felt a wave of sympathy for Mrs. Richmond. No I didn’t.
“You want me to come up and help?” I asked
“No. She would get mad. A walk later in the day?”
“Yes. Perfect. Up, up get up.” I took the pillow out from underneath her and bonked her on the head with it.
“I’m going to the kitchen. Starving I can’t wait. Hurry.” I moved through my thankfully dark hallway to the bright kitchen that hurt my bloodshot eyes.
Chapter Seven
We cooked everything there was to cook, set the table and laid out the food. Anthony talked the whole time in a stream of conscience style. Funny kid. I asked him to go get the girls but not tell them I was here. He liked the idea of a surprise. He came back, still talking telling me they would be in a minute, and there she was.
She walked out of the hallway that led to the kitchen wearing a long white t-shirt so thin that she might have well had been nude. She rubbed her eyes not seeing me, her hair barely brushed. I liked her even more this way. She opened her wide dark eyes and asked why I was there. I held up her phone.
She sat down and I don’t know what happened but instead of her staring off she stared at me. Her eyes didn’t leave mine for the entire breakfast. The other girls came out, everyone talking. Zelda and I lost in each other. She looked lovesick or hung over, a mixture of both.
They left. Zelda got up, and with a tilt of her head invited me back to her room. Hypnotized by her, I followed. Her room was off the kitchen, her own little wing of the house. Her parents and brother’s rooms were upstairs.
She closed the door and pushed me up against it, kissing me, aggressive, her fingers running through my hair. Her body was heaven. I couldn’t believe this was happening. She pulled me towards her bed.
“Stop Zelda. Have you had sex before?"
“No, of course not. Why would you think that? I’ve never even kissed anyone before you last night. I don’t want to have sex.”
“You’re trying to get me into your bed. What do you expect me to think?”
We had to slow down. By the look on her face I could tell that I had insulted her with my question. I told her I loved her again and pulled the nightgown over her head.
I took my clothes off, and we sat on her bed touching each other. She was so curious, and as shy as she was with her words she was as open with her body. All the girls I knew worried about their bodies; if they were fat or whatever they worried about. She was confident. Pulling me towards her, putting my hands where she wanted them. We lay down on the bed kissing.
“I love you.” I said for the twentieth time since walking into her room, “We have to stop now. We have to get to know each other. You’re my girlfriend now.”
“Blah, stop it.”
How had I been her first kiss? How had that happened? The prettiest girl around and I was the only one tough enough to go after her? I decided right then that I would never pressure her for more than she could give knowing that a word of asking would get her. She was eager. I didn’t want it that way. I wanted to know her. At this point she may have spoken forty words to me.
If I could do it all over again I would have taken her that day. It wouldn’t have altered the pain of what happened to her but it might have lessened the shame she felt. Best intentions hurt my girl.
She looked wiped out. I needed her to wake her up. My girl and I were going outside. She needed some fresh air for her big sleepy eyes. I went to her closet and pulled out a t-shirt, jeans and a sweatshirt. She put them on. I could tell she liked being told what to do. I wasn’t going to take advantage of it.
If it were possible she was even sexier in the simple clothes. I hadn’t seen her in jeans in years. She didn’t seem comfortable in the casual outfit. She was already dressed, so I walked us out into her hallway to get away from her bed she clearly wanted to go back to with me. There was only so much I could take.
“I look like I am volunteering for trash pick up day on the beach.”
“I like you like this.” I kissed her again, “Don’t you wear a bra?”
“You didn’t hand me one. I’ll put one on if you like.”
“No, this is perfect.” I ran my hand across her chest. She tried to pull me back to her room. I resisted and led her into the kitchen and out her front door.
We walked down the canyon road. I put my arm around her and hoped that everyone I had ever known would see us together. This was my trophy moment. She huddled into me playing with my hands, rubbing my stomach. She used touch instead of words to communicate. Fine by me.
She was quiet, so I told her about myself thinking it would make her more comfortable. I knew the night before was some kind of turning point for her. I’m a talker. I started with my birth by the time I got to age four her eyes glossed over with boredom. I continued anyway thinking that my voice was soothing to her.
We turned the corner onto Sunset and her face paled, she couldn’t catch her breath. I sat her down at the bus stop. She put her head on my shoulder and told me about the night before. I hadn’t known they continued the drinking. My girl needed water. She was hung over. Peppermint Schnapps she murmured. Why did girls like that sweet stuff? Beer was enough for me. I was never a big drinker.
An extremely rare 1964 red Ferrari coupe that I had seen around our road over the years made a dangerous U-turn in the middle of the road, screeching to a stop in front of us. I was impressed. I had no idea the stylish older man driving the car was her father.
They waved us over, perking Zelda up. I leaned into the car and charmed them, something I was very good at. I’m a nice Jewish boy, what did you expect? Her mom looked exactly like her. She stared at me without speaking. I wondered if that was where Zelda had picked up that habit. Weird family. Her dad and I were good. He invited me over for breakfast the next morning. Score.
We walked on and had lunch at Carney’s after they drove off. Zelda drank water and picked at the hot dog. I guessed this one of her vegetarian days. I told her the rest of my story. I could tell by dazed look in her eyes she wasn’t paying attention but I had to tell her. I wanted her to know me. I figured it would sink in one-way or another.
We walked home holding hands. She took mine and rubbed it against her cheek a few times. She looked cold in the sweatshirt I had picked out for her. I put my arm around her pulling her close to me. She snuggled up to me with her first smile of the day. I found myself using words like sweetheart and baby. Brendan and Serge, well maybe not Serge, would have laughed, but that’s the way it was.
We stopped by my house on the way back up the hill. I wanted her to meet my parents. She was like a toy I wanted to show off. They weren’t home. We went up to my room against my better judgment. Her clothes were off within three minutes. She had no idea what she was doing to me. I let her have her way for a little while, then dressed her back up and dropped her off at Carolina’s. Her good-bye made it sound like that was it for us. My girl was good and confused.
Chapter Eight
I opened the front door to Carolina’s house as quietly as possible. I didn’t want to see Serge. I tiptoed past his door and into Carolina's room. She sat on her spindled bed reading a thick ancient looking book. No Kindle for her. She looked up and smiled.
“There you are. I thought you would be here earlier. Do you want to stay for dinner? Uh oh, what’s wrong? What happened? Didn't you spend the day with Danny?"
I burst out into tears. She put her book down, crawled off her bed and gave me a hug.
“Did he do something to you? Are you okay? What happened? He seemed so nice.”
“He is nice. He’s...” I started crying harder and laid down on her unmade bed.
“Tell me ev
erything.” She took my hand and held it.
“I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or confused.” I wiped my tears away and took a deep breath, “I kept taking my clothes off and touching him... He kept talking, telling me all these weird things about himself like which hospital he was born in. I don’t understand what happened.”
“What do you mean?” She laughed, “Go back to the beginning.”
“I don’t know Carolina. He kissed me last night and then I don’t know. I don’t even think I like him. It’s hard for me to talk to him. I just want to touch him all the time. He never stops talking. What’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. It’s normal. You’re over thinking it. You’ve always lived in your head. He’s the opposite of you that way. Opposites attract and a million other clichés.”
“I’m scared.”
“It’s only natural. If you were going to worry you should have worried about your lack of interest.”
“I can’t keep my hands off of him... I don’t even like when people touch me.” I laughed though nothing I said was particularly funny.
“This is all normal. You’re just not used to them. You're were always kind of behind that way.”
“What about sex? I think I...” Waves and waves of embarrassment fell over me..
“He must love you. Mr. America with an exotic bird. I would be careful, more for his sake than yours. He’s so normal. I would never have guessed this in a million years.”
“He keeps saying he loves me.”
“You do know how many girls would die for your problem right? Sorry I didn’t mean to make light of it. It’s not unheard of for girls our age. As long as your not doing it to keep him or something it’s all right I guess.”
“I don’t know.”
“In 24 hours you’ve gone from having never been kissed to thinking about sex. Slow down... You know he used to stare at you when we were little, he still does. He asks about you sometimes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. You’ve never even liked the deluxe boys at your school. He is Serge’s friend. Blah. They were never interesting to us.”
I laughed.
“You’re right. Let’s forget about that for now.”
“Can we eat dinner at my house? I don’t feel up to the British Lit quiz tonight.”
“She made lasagna. Are you sure? I know you love that.”
“Tempting but no thank you.”
She went downstairs to get permission for the change of dinner plans. I stretched out on her bed imaging what Danny was doing at this very moment. I shook my head to shake out the thought. Maybe I should do Yoga or something, I thought to myself, anything to relax my mind.
“They’re okay with the plan since it’s your birthday weekend. What are we having for dinner at your house?"
“I don’t know. Anthony is sleeping out tonight. I think my Mom and Dad are going downtown to see a play.”
“We’re giving up homemade lasagna for delivery pizza?”
“We can order from somewhere else if you like.”
“It’s fine. Let’s go. Should I sleep over?"
“Yes Danny’s coming over for breakfast. My Dad invited him. Is that okay?”
“Oh yes. I want to watch you two. Zelda in love.”
“I’m not in love. Blah."
She laughed while gathering up her things and putting them in her overnight bag. We walked out of her room and into the hallway and there stood Serge. I was mortified. I had seen him out of the corner of my eye the night before during my pulling back and forth of Danny.
“Hey Zelda. Did you have a good birthday?” He had a look on his face I couldn’t read.
“Yes. Thank you.” I made a move to walk down the stairs. He took my hand. I looked up at him. I felt like I was in trouble. He could be very protective of Carolina and me.
“You have a very clear voice.” He continued to look at me as if he didn’t know how to speak to me. “You can use it to say “no”. Don’t let anyone push you into doing anything you don’t want to do.”
“Okay.” I managed to say.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that.” Carolina laughed. I wanted to push her down the stairs.
“We’re ordering food back at my house. Do you want to come over?” I wanted our awkwardness to end.
“Sorry no. I have a guitar lesson.” I watched him walk down the stairs and out the door.
“Since when does he play the guitar?”
“Some girl up the road is teaching him.”
We ordered pizza, watched old movies and fell asleep early on the overstuffed sofa in the living room.
...
I woke up at the break of dawn. Danny would be over in two hours. I had a lot to do. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t showered the day before. I worried I had smelled bad and wondered how could he have looked at me let alone kissed me all those times. My body warmed at the thought of him.
Carolina was right. I overreacted. She always set my head right. I went to the kitchen and made her blueberry muffins as a thank you. The blueberries were huge. I knew she would love them. My dad would be up soon to start preparing breakfast. I would have to hurry so as not to get in his way.
Sunday morning was the only consistent time that we spent together as a family. If Anthony or I had a sleepover the night before we had to be home and ready to eat by 8:30 A.M sharp. My dad cooked rashers of bacons and Frittata’s filled with the most delicate and tiny Heirloom tomatoes. Carolina usually joined us. She practically lived at my house, and I at hers, back and forth we traveled up and down the road.
While the muffins were baking I jumped into the shower. I used a loofa to scrub my body with an orange scented soap. I let the conditioner sit in my hair an extra long time and used the oatmeal scrub on my face. Drying off after the shower I applied a thick Swedish lotion to my body. Swedes had beautiful skin and so would I.
I threw on my robe and ran to the kitchen to take the muffins out of the oven and put them on the cooling rack. Perfect. I ran back to my room and opened my closet to find an outfit. I held up my baby blue velveteen wrap dress, no. Danny liked casual. What was casual? I pulled out my most drab colored dresses. No, dresses weren’t casual. Jeans, I would wear jeans. I worried they would be dull. I wore jeans the day before. He’d think I didn’t have any other clothes.
That was silly. He had seen my closet. He knew of my bountiful wardrobe. Yuck, jeans again. I picked my favorite black pair, no black wasn’t casual, blue jeans. They had a horseshoe design on the back pocket. Was that casual? It must be, I thought. I put them on.
T-shirt blah. Again I wondered, why am I doing this? I looked at the silk blouses that my father had brought me back from his trip to China, no. T-shirt, T-shirt. Ugh, I pulled out a pink one, it was V-neck, I thought that was normal. No bra, he liked that. I didn’t think my Dad would like that, but I didn’t worry about that.
“You’re already dressed? What are you wearing? Jeans and t-shirt two days in a row? Are you in third grade again?” Carolina awoke and asked.
“He likes it. I don’t know I may have said something unkind about his taste level. This is what I’m wearing.”
“You look pretty. I’m not used to it.” I went back to blow-drying my hair.
Carolina dressed in traditional Carolina and Zelda clothes. Finished with my hair I glanced at the clock. It was 8:15.
“He should be here any minute. You have to pay attention to everything. I need you to make sure I haven’t lost my mind.”
“I can tell you that already. You’re nuts.” She laughed
“Let’s go help my Dad set the table.” I said as we walked to the kitchen.
“You mean to tell me that elusive Mrs. Moreau is not awake. I’m shocked.”
“She’s kind of clever that way. She slides in at the perfect moment, never having to help. We could both learn from her.”
Carolina and I entered th
e kitchen and exchanged good-mornings and appropriate chatter with my Dad. He liked Carolina but not in a big way. He preferred my flashier friends. He would get a little annoyed with Carolina's smart mouth sometimes. Women were for the most part second-class to my father. Carolina’s brain confused his notion of the world. I hoped he would never meet her mother. His world-view would shatter.
“Zelda stop looking out the window. He’ll be here in a minute. Do you like him Carolina?” My father asked.
“We’ll see at breakfast. I’m required to take notes.” They both laughed, which was nice to see even if I were the butt of the joke.
“He’s here. Act calm. Don’t look up. Don’t do anything. Do what you were doing.” I ordered.
“We were acting calm.” My father laughed again.
I ran to the front door and opened it as he was about to knock. He looked and smelled so clean. He wore his high school Lacrosse sweatshirt over jeans. In his hands were a small gift and a bunch of orange roses wrapped in brown paper.
“This gift is your birthday present. The flowers are for your home.” His fingers brushed against mine and he kissed my cheek. Electricity ran through my body. Nothing had changed from the day before. I liked it.
Chapter Nine
I ran home and raced up the stairs to my room after I had dropped her off at Carolina’s house. I pulled the mini safe out under my bed took out my savings, hopped back on my bike and rode to the Antiquarius Center on Beverly Blvd. Three months until I would get a car. The ride back home would be all uphill. What I wouldn’t do for Zelda.
I found the perfect golden combs for her hair. They worked with her Victorian period. I hoped she would never go back to that style, but I knew she would love them. The store wrapped them up, I hopped back on my bike and rode as fast as I could up the hill.
The next morning she opened the door wearing jeans and a pink t-shirt smiling. From that moment until the bad day she always smiled. Her clothes choice showed that my feelings were returned. She always liked expressing herself more through actions than words. She went back and forth between her casual and genre outfits after that, but that day she was a jeans and t-shirt girl.
