Sometimes Love Isn't Enough

by Lurlene McDaniel

  She was sure that Paula Winski would get the part of Rizzo, the tough girl leader of the Pink Ladies. She looked the part with her leather jacket, frizzy brown hair, and bright red lipstick. She sang well, too.

  When it came time for Andrea to audition, her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure Ms. Vesper could hear it. But once she started reading Sandy’s lines, she felt calmer.

  “Very good,” Ms. Vesper said when she’d read about three pages of dialogue. “Now, how about a song?’’

  Andrea nodded. “I’ve been working on ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You,’” she said softly.

  “I’ve got the music right here,” Ms. Vesper said, turning the pages of the musical score on her piano. She played the opening chords, and Andrea began to sing. Her voice was strong as she concentrated on her delivery of the beautiful ballad.

  When Andrea was finished, she felt good about her performance. She only hoped that it had been good enough to get the part.

  “Thanks, Andrea,” Ms. Vesper told her. “I’ll be posting the parts next week.”

  “Thanks,” Andrea said. Then she picked up her books and left. She wanted to stay and hear her competition, but it was getting late. She had already missed the school bus and was going to have to catch the city bus home. She’d told her mom about the tryouts, but her mom hadn’t seemed very interested. Still, she told Andrea she could do it, as long as she came straight home and started supper.

  At the bus stop, Andrea shivered in the cold January air. She stamped her feet. They felt frozen. Where is the dumb bus anyway? She’d been waiting for more than ten minutes in the gray, slushy snow.

  She was so busy looking down the street that she didn’t notice a guy approaching her. “Waiting on the bus?” he asked.

  “Oh!” Andrea cried, nearly jumping off the ground. She turned and faced Tony Columbo. The raw wind ruffled through his dark hair and turned his cheeks rosy. His dark eyes stared bright and hard at her.

  “Y-you scared me,” she stammered.

  “The bus won’t be here for a while. Let’s walk down to the pizza place and get a slice,” he said. It sounded more like a command than an invitation.

  Andrea felt suddenly flustered. She was alone on the street, it was starting to get dark, and Tony was urging her to go off with him. She was still a little afraid of him.

  “I don’t think so,” she mumbled, looking down at the ground. She was hesitant to meet his sullen look.

  “It’s cold,” he stated flatly. “Let’s not stand here all night. Come on.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “But I can’t.”

  “Scared?” he taunted.

  “No!” she snapped, looking up at him. “I-I just don’t want to.”

  He eyed her again, shrugged, and said, “Suit yourself. But I’m not asking you again.” Then he ambled off down the street.

  Andrea watched him walk away and felt a pang of regret. She hadn’t been very nice to him. And it would have been fun to go sit down and have a slice of pizza. But she’d blown it. She sighed, clutched her books, and shivered.

  “Isn’t anything ever going to go right for me?” she asked herself.

  NINE

  Andrea spent the entire week on pins and needles. A part of her couldn’t wait for Ms. Vesper to announce the parts for Grease. Another part of her dreaded the announcement. She was afraid that she would not get the part of Sandy. It was the only part she wanted.

  “I got a promotion today,” her mother said one night during supper. Andrea stopped eating and looked at her mother’s beaming face.

  “That’s great, Mom,” she said.

  “Great, Mom,” Timmy echoed.

  “I get my own desk at the bank,” she continued. “I’ll be helping customers open new accounts. I’ll make more money, too. I’ve only been there a few months, and I already got a promotion.” Andrea could tell that her mother felt very pleased with herself.

  Andrea didn’t know what else to say. She was glad her mom had gotten a promotion. But she couldn’t help wondering what her dad was doing that night. Was he thinking about them? Did he miss them?

  Andrea changed the subject. “If I get the part in the show, can I take it?” she asked.

  “The show?” her mother asked.

  She doesn’t even remember, Andrea thought sadly. “The school musical, you know, Grease?”

  “When are rehearsals?” her mom asked.

  “After school, four days a week, and on Saturdays nine till noon,” Andrea said.

  “Oh, honey, that’s so much time. . . , ” her mom started. “What about your school work?”

  “I can do it all,” Andrea pleaded. “I want this part. I really want to do it. Please, Mom!”

  “How would you get home every day? You’ll miss the school bus.”

  “The city bus stops right outside the school. I can take it.”

  “I don’t know,” her mom said, shaking her head.

  “Oh, please!” Andrea begged again.

  “Well, you haven’t gotten the part yet. So let’s wait and see.”

  Andrea wanted her to say “yes” now, while she was in such a good mood about her promotion. She pleaded with her one more time.

  “Oh, I guess we could work something out,” her mom finally said.

  Andrea smiled broadly. Her mom had said everything but yes! Now, all she had to do was land the role in the show.

  Andrea’s heart pounded as she approached the list posted on the bulletin board in the choral room. Typed at the top of the list was “Parts for GREASE,” and right below that was “Sandy. . . Andrea Manetti.”

  She’d gotten the part! She felt like doing handsprings! She looked at the paper again, just to make sure. Her name was there all right, along with several others, including Paula Winski, who got the part of Rizzo. “Strange,” she muttered. There was no name next to the role of Danny, the male lead. I guess Ms. Vesper hasn’t assigned that part yet.

  Other students crowded around her. Most seemed pleased for her, and she was pleased with herself. She couldn’t wait to tell her family.

  Suddenly, she got an idea. Instead of going straight home after school, she’d hop a city bus and go over to her dad’s apartment.

  She knew where it was. She’d been there once before. It was a big, nine-story, redbrick building on the south side. It was an adults-only complex, but kids could visit. They just couldn’t live there. Her dad’s apartment was on the seventh floor and had a view of factories and the expressway. Further in the distance, you could see the tall buildings of downtown.

  “I’ll surprise him,” Andrea told herself excitedly. He’d said that she could come visit any time. He’d be at home, she knew, because she’d talked to him on the phone the night before.

  “Hey! Good luck!” he’d said when she’d told him about trying out for the part in the musical. “I’ll be pulling for you, honey.” He sounded so excited for her, happier than her mother had sounded about the show.

  “That’s exactly what I’ll do,” she said to herself. “I’ll catch the bus to Dad’s apartment and surprise him.”

  Maybe, after they talked, he would take her home in his car, she hoped. And maybe he would stay for supper. And maybe, now that her mother had a promotion and a raise, they could talk and have a good time with each other again. Andrea grew more and more excited. She couldn’t wait for the school bell to ring.

  Andrea stood in the apartment lobby, waiting for the elevator to reach the ground floor. She was having second thoughts about going to her dad’s apartment. It had taken her much longer to get there on the bus than she had planned.

  Inside, the lobby needed a coat of paint. The man behind the front desk leaned on his elbows. A newspaper was propped in front of him. Three people sat in the lobby. They looked vacantly at her as she walked by them.

  The elevator arrived with a groan, and Andrea quickly stepped inside. She was grateful that there was no one else on it. She pushed the button for the seventh floor and waited whi
le the old elevator car lurched its way upward. She got off and walked hesitantly down the hallway to apartment 709. She paused outside the door. Her hands were shaking.

  Why do I feel so nervous? Andrea wondered. She had every right to be there. After all, her father lived here! She knocked on the door, softly. There was no answer. She tried again, this time a little louder. There was still no answer.

  She felt disappointed and was turning away when the door finally opened. A woman stood in the doorway. She was young, blonde, and dressed in a short skirt. Andrea had never seen her before.

  “What do you want, honey?” the woman asked, looking Andrea over.

  “Excuse me,” Andrea mumbled. “I must have the wrong apartment.” She looked at the door. The number was 709. “My—my dad. . . , ” she stammered.

  “You must be Andrea,” the woman said with a toothy smile. “Jim’s told me all about you. Come on in.” The woman took Andrea’s arm and pulled her inside the apartment.

  Andrea felt panic well up inside her. She looked around. It was her dad’s stuff. Then she saw the dining room table. It was set for two.

  “Jim!” the woman called. “Andrea’s here.”

  Her father emerged from down the hall. He was still fresh from taking a shower. What’s going on? Andrea asked herself. Who is this woman?

  “Andi!” her dad cried, approaching her. “I-I didn’t expect you,” he stammered. “What a surprise. I wish you would have called first. I’ve got company tonight.” He was embarrassed. Andrea could tell. She’d certainly surprised him!

  Andrea felt hot tears of anger well up inside her. He’s got company all right! A date!

  He tried to cover over the awkward moment. “I see you’ve already met Jill.”

  Andrea began backing toward the door. She felt like the walls were closing in on her. She had to get out of there! “I’m sorry,” she said, fumbling behind her for the doorknob.

  “Wait, Andi,” her dad said. He reached out to her. But Andrea didn’t want him touching her. She just wanted to get away.

  “I have to go!” she cried. She flung open the door and ran down the hall to the elevator door. She repeatedly pressed the elevator call button as her father ran toward her.

  “Honey, please come back. Let’s talk,” he pleaded.

  The elevator door slid open in front of her. “No, no, not now, I’m sorry.” She hurried into the elevator, leaving him standing in the hallway.

  When she got to the ground floor, she ran out of the building and into the icy cold air to the bus stop. There she stopped, her lungs burning.

  “How could he?” she asked over and over. “How could he?” She began to sob as the cars whooshed by through the wet, gray slush.

  TEN

  Andrea sat alone dabbing her eyes in the darkened living room. She was exhausted and so deep in thought that she didn’t hear the front door open and her mother and Timmy come inside. “Andi!” her mom called. “Andi! Why are the lights off ? I know I paid the electric bill.” Andrea jumped up and turned on a lamp. “Are you all right?” her mom asked. “Isn’t dinner started? Did you just get home, too?”

  “Sorry,” Andrea called, quickly turning her back on her mom and rushing off into the kitchen. “The time just got away from me.”

  Andrea fumbled with the pots from the cupboards and ducked her head into the refrigerator. She was desperately trying to concentrate on getting dinner together.

  Her mom came into the kitchen after turning on the TV for Timmy and stood next to her daughter. Her arms were crossed, and a puzzled look was on her face. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Andrea turned her back and tried to keep busy. She tried to avoid her mom’s probing stare. “I said, I forgot,” she told her mother.

  “Stop, Andi,” her mom said, grabbing her arm lightly. “I want an explanation.”

  Andrea spun and faced her mother. Suddenly, new tears formed in her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks. “I went to see Dad today,” she whispered, “to tell him I got the part in the show.”

  Her mom’s back stiffened. “And?” she said, softening slightly at the sight of Andrea’s tears.

  “And there was another woman with him,” she finished.

  Her mom stood very still and said nothing. From the living room Andrea could hear the sound of Timmy’s cartoon show.

  “Well, it certainly didn’t take him long,” her mom finally said, bitterly and mostly to herself.

  “Oh, Mom,” Andrea cried. Suddenly, she was in her mom’s arms. Her mother stiffened, then cautiously put her arms around her daughter’s shaking shoulders. She held her for a few minutes, stroking her hair.

  Andrea couldn’t remember a time when her mother had held her like that. But it felt good and comforting. After a long time, her mom finally said, “Look, baby, I know it was hard on you. I’m sorry. But now that the divorce is final, your father is allowed to date other women.”

  Andrea wasn’t sure if her mother was talking to her or to herself. Andi pulled back and rubbed her red, swollen eyes. Her mom led her over to the kitchen table, sat her down, and sat next to her. She continued to hold her daughter’s hand.

  “Doesn’t it bother you at all?” Andrea asked, wiping her nose with a napkin. “You were married to each other.”

  Her mom sighed. “What difference does it make now?”

  “Don’t you still love Dad?” Andrea asked.

  Her mom chose her words carefully. “A part of me will always love your father,” she confirmed softly. “We had you and Timmy, didn’t we? You two are the best parts of us.”

  “Well, I still love both of you,” Andrea began. “I mean, if everybody still loves everybody, why aren’t we living together?”

  Her mom stood up and paced across the floor. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Andi,” she said. “Sometimes it’s more complicated than that.”

  Andrea shook her head. She didn’t understand. “I thought marriage was supposed to last forever—that you promised Dad that you’d be happy forever.”

  Patiently, her mom tried again. “Andi, you’ve got to realize that life is not a fairy tale. Nothing guarantees lifelong happiness. Sometimes it’s hard to understand why things happen the way they do, but when they do, you have to accept them and move on.”

  “Why did you get that job?” Andrea asked. “If only you hadn’t wanted to go to work . . . ,” her voice trailed.

  “The job had nothing to do with our problems,” her mom said. “It was just the last straw that proved your father and I couldn’t work things out. Don’t you think we tried?”

  Andrea shrugged. “You were always yelling and fighting,” she said.

  “Yes. And I’m sorry we acted that way. We didn’t think about how we were affecting you and Timmy.”

  Andrea began to realize her mother wasn’t acting so angry anymore. Her mother was really talking to her. She wasn’t blaming Andrea’s father for all their problems. Andrea began to think that maybe the divorce wasn’t totally her mother’s fault after all.

  “Now, Andi,” her mom began. “Please don’t let all of this affect your schoolwork and our life here.”

  “What do you mean?” Andrea asked.

  “Are you going to ignore school and worry about your dad and me?” her mom asked, half-joking but with a serious tone to her question.

  “I don’t know,” Andrea said puzzled.

  “Do you know what I think?” her mom asked, smiling at Andrea. “I think it’s time that we got back to living our lives again.”

  “What do you mean?” Andrea asked, seeing a look of determination on her mother’s face.

  “I think we’ve sat around dwelling on the past too long. It’s time we made a truce and started being a family again—just you, Timmy, and me.”

  Andrea looked at her mother. She knew that her mother was right. Andrea had to stop being angry with her parents. She had to forgive them both and go on with her life.

  “Honey, I’m glad about your part i
n the show,” her mom added sincerely. “I think it’ll be good for you to concentrate on something besides your dad and me. I want you to take the part. I’ll help you make rehearsals. We’ll do the chores together on Saturday afternoons. I just know you’ll be terrific. I can’t wait until opening night,” she said proudly.

  “Do you really mean it?” Andrea asked, momentarily forgetting her unhappiness.

  “Of course, I mean it,” her mom said and smiled. “We have to support each other, don’t we?” she asked. “I love you, Andi. I really do.”

  That’s what Dad told me the day he left, Andrea thought. Love—it was a strange emotion. It could put people on mountains. It could pull them into deep pits. And it could change. It could start out one way and end up another, like her mom and dad’s love. She hoped their love for her wouldn’t change.

  She was glad she’d talked with her mom. It had made her feel better. She also understood something else. She realized that when people change, their lives need to change, too. She wasn’t angry with her mother anymore about the divorce. She was still hurt by it. But Andrea realized her parents’ problems didn’t have anything to do with her after all.

  Ms. Vesper began to practice the singing parts of Grease with the cast members. But she still hadn’t cast the part of Danny Zuko, the male lead. Andrea began to wonder if she was ever going to choose a boy for the role.

  A few students had tried out, but no one was quite right for the part. Either a guy looked right for the role, or he could sing. No one could seem to do both. For a while it looked as if Adam Roarke might get it. But he was so short. Andrea could stand next to him and look right over the top of his head. She couldn’t imagine singing a romantic ballad down to a guy.

  Terri helped Andrea memorize her speaking lines. Terri also signed up to do makeup and paint the props and scenery that some volunteers from shop class were making. In fact, everything was in place, except for one small detail—who was going to play Danny?