“How’d you like it?”
“It’s okay.” I’m not feeling as cool as I sound.
“Hey, listen, if you’re off tomorrow, do you want to come over for some tennis?”
“In the afternoon?” Jim works till five so I might as well.
“Around two,” Barry says.
“Sure, that’d be great.”
“Yeah?” Like he’s really surprised. I guess he still likes me. Poor Dana.
“Sure,” I say, and he tells me where his house is and how to get there.
I tell him I have to run to close the windows because now the rain is really coming down. Too late. The whole side of my bed is soaking wet. I don’t know how so much rain came in that tiny window. I change the sheets and hang the blanket up to dry and come back downstairs to finish cleaning the shrimp. Gross. There must be fifty of them. It’ll take me forever.
The phone rings again and I almost tell David to pick it up because my hands are gloppy from the shrimp, but then I remember Mr. Landry and dry them off and answer it myself.
“Hello?” I say.
“You the mother’s helper?” It’s a man’s voice. I know exactly who it is and my stomach sinks.
“Yes, it’s me, Victoria.”
“Right. Listen, Victoria, how are my grandchildren?”
“Fine, just fine.”
David strolls in to see who I’m talking to. “Who’s that?” he wants to know.
“Nobody,” I tell him. “It’s for me.”
“That David you’re talking to?” Mr. Landry asks, and I’m not about to lie so I say yes, it’s David.
“Please let me talk to him.” And I can’t really say no. After all, I let him talk to DeeDee, and besides, I already decided that I’m not going to do what someone says if I think they’re absolutely wrong. Of course, now I have to think of a story for David so that he doesn’t tell his mother. She’d really be furious if she ever found out. But I have to take that risk because the kids have to be able to talk to their grandfather, especially if they love him the way David and DeeDee love theirs. I don’t usually make big important decisions like this, I mean with adults involved, so it’s kind of scary.
“David,” I say, “I was wrong. It’s for you.”
“For me?” He jumps up and runs over to the phone. “Hello? Grandpa!” Then to me, all excited, “It’s my Grandpa.” See, they really do love him a whole lot.
“. . . Yeah, I’m okay. When are you coming out? . . . How come not for so long? . . . But you said you were going to take us fishing. . . . But you said . . . I don’t want to go fishing with Victoria. I want to go fishing with you. . . .” And he looks like he’s going to cry. “Please, Grandpa, I miss you. . . .”
Oh, I feel awful.
“Can I come see you? . . . How come? . . . Mommy could take me. She’s going into the city Tuesday and then she could take me to your house . . . I don’t know, she has an appointment, I guess . . . she said she has to make an early train . . .” Then he turns to me. “What time is Mommy coming home Tuesday night?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “Late, I think. Why?”
“Victoria says late, Grandpa . . . You will? . . . Oh, boy, terrific.” And he starts jumping up and down. “Victoria! My Grandpa’s gonna see me on Tuesday!”
Oh, no! “Give me the phone for a minute, David,” I say. “I want to say something.” And I practically grab the phone out of his hand.
“Mr. Landry? Don’t hang up, I have to talk to you.” And then I turn to David and say to him, “I forgot to tell you but Steven from across the street was here before and he wants you to come over.”
“Tell my grandpa to come out early,” he says.
“I will. You better get over to Steven’s because he wanted to show you something.”
“What is it?” he asks.
“He didn’t say what it was but he said he would let you hold it.” God, I hate to lie. Still, it was good enough to make him shoot right out the door.
“Mr. Landry, Cynthia’s going to be very angry that I even let you talk to the kids, but when she finds out that you’re coming out she won’t go to the city at all and then she’s going to be furious with me.”
“We won’t tell her.”
“I can’t do that. That would be really dishonest and I don’t think that’s fair.”
“All right,” he says, “I won’t come.” I’m surprised that I convinced him so easily, but he must be a really nice person if the kids love him so much, and they do.
“Thanks a lot, Mr. Landry. I’m really sorry that it has to be like this. If you hold on one sec I’ll get David and you can tell him yourself,” and I race across the street toward Steven’s house and practically run smack into David on his way home.
“Nobody’s home,” he tells me.
“Come on, quick, your grandpa’s still on the phone and he wants to say something to you.”
And we both run into the house and David picks up the phone and says, “Hello,” and then he holds the receiver out to me and says, “There’s no one there.”
And I take it and, sure enough, there’s a dial tone. We must have got disconnected, or else that nice old man purposely hung up so he would stick me with having to explain why he can’t come Tuesday.
“We must have got cut off,” I say. “But he wanted me to give you the message that he’s afraid he can’t make it for Tuesday.”
“How come?” And David’s really disappointed.
“He has to go to the doctor.”
Now he’s worried. “Is Grandpa sick or something?”
“Oh, no, he’s absolutely fine, but he has to take his friend who’s very, very sick.”
“Mr. Whiteman?”
“Uh-uh,” I say with a shake of my head. “This is a friend you don’t know. But your grandfather said he knew that you would understand and not to say anything about his call to your mother because he wants to surprise her when he comes out.”
Boy, he’s really crushed, and he keeps asking me things like maybe he can go into the city and then he can go to the doctor with his grandfather or maybe his grandpa can come out after he takes his friend to the doctor, and then a million questions about how come he can’t come out on Wednesday and then Thursday, and the kid is really and truly disappointed. I feel like a rat, and on top of all that, Steven wasn’t home and now he wants to know what Steven had for him to hold.
“I think it was his new book on Vitamins and Children’s Growth.”
“That stinks. I don’t even want to see that dumb book. He’s a jerk.”
“I told him you wouldn’t care.” But he doesn’t even listen because he’s back into the TV.
I go back to the shrimp which look like they had a few baby shrimp while I was gone. It takes me another hour and a half to finish cleaning and deveining the shrimp and I’m halfway into chopping the onions and crying my eyes out when Cynthia comes in. DeeDee hears her and comes downstairs. I go into the living room, and while Cynthia’s talking to DeeDee I give David a little poke and remind him not to say anything about his grandfather’s call because of the surprise.
Cynthia comes into the kitchen and makes a big fuss about how great I cleaned the shrimp and how I’m the best shrimp cleaner in the country, and I told you, she really is appreciative about things. So would I be if somebody cleaned a truck-load of shrimp for me. As soon as I finish the onions, she says, leave the rest to her (except that it’s all done) and would I please take the wagon down to the grocery store and pick up some beer and soda.
“David! DeeDee! Go help Victoria with the soda,” she calls to them just as I’m about to slip out of the house. I don’t know why she thinks they’re such a help. I wish I could tell her it’s easier to get it without them.
No luck. Naturally they jump in the wagon like always. It’s not bad going there but coming back with the kids and the soda it’s horrendous. I have to figure out a way to get them to walk sometimes.
The phone rings just when
we get back, and I dump my packages down and grab it. It’s got to be Jim.
“Hello? . . . Is Victoria there?” It’s him.
“Hi,” I say, “It’s me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m working now so I have to make this fast. Something’s come up so I won’t be able to see you for a few days, but I’ll call you sometime around the end of the week. Okay?”
“Sure.” I’m disappointed but he did call even if it was to say he couldn’t see me. That’s a whole lot better than not calling at all. I told you he’s a very considerate person.
“Well, see you around,” he says.
“Okay, see you.” And we both hang up.
It’s not so bad anyway, because I probably wouldn’t be able to get out tonight so it’s just as well. He called. That’s really what counts.
The company turns out to be two other women and one guy and the food is delicious. The kids and I eat first in the kitchen and then after I put them to bed I come down and do the dishes for us and for the company. It’s only seven people but it feels like a million dishes because they don’t have a dish-washer.
Cynthia offers to help, but she’s a little tipsy from the drinks so I just tell her, don’t worry, I can handle it myself. She looks a little surprised, then says, “You’re a doll,” and goes back to some crazy game they are playing, a kind of porno-charades that they think is the funniest thing since the belly button.
I think maybe after the dishes Cynthia is going to suggest that I can go out for a walk, but she says she’s probably going out so I get into bed with a book and before I know it my eyes are starting to close. Tomorrow’s my day off and I’m going to sleep till twelve. At least. Hooray!
Fourteen
“No, DeeDee, it’s my day off,” I tell her when she starts climbing in my bed, but a lot of good that does. She says she’s not hungry, she just wants to sleep with me. I can’t throw her off the bed so I move over and she squeezes in, and that’s not easy because it’s a very narrow bed and I’m always hanging off. I try to get back to sleep but she keeps jumping around and telling me how she’ll be very quiet and how she’s going to sleep and all that, so finally I get up.
“Now let’s eat,” she says, and as long as I’m up I might as well give her breakfast.
David comes down the usual time, and I remind him not to say anything to DeeDee about the phone call because she’s too young to keep a secret. He likes that. I thought he would. Actually she’s terrific about her own secret grandpa thing. And I know she didn’t forget because all she wants to do all day is go get the mail.
Cynthia’s still sleeping and the kids want to go to the beach and so I figure I might as well take them. I guess you can call it the high cost of sneaking out.
The usual group is at the beach and they’re surprised to see me.
“Hey,” Dana says, “I thought you have Mondays off.”
“I do,” I tell her. “But I wasn’t doing anything this morning so I figured I might as well bring the kids to the beach.”
Dana and Anita say I really shouldn’t do that because I could screw it up for everybody, but I tell them that Cynthia is really very nice to me and so it’s no big deal to me and besides, it’s not as though she asked me.
Anita wants to know what Cynthia does that’s so great, and I tell them I can’t think of anything specific right this minute but she’s a very appreciative person, and I’m about to tell them about the notes, how cute they are, but then I think maybe they won’t see them that way so I just say, “I don’t know . . . things.”
We chat about this and that, but I don’t mention going to Barry’s house today because I know Dana sort of likes him. Funny, I’m not even very excited about going. It’s practically that I feel I have to. Still, it did kind of bug me a little that day he was paying so much attention to Dana. You know, the day he and Jim were surfing. Maybe I just don’t like to lose any of my admirers.
I get back with the kids at about eleven thirty and Cynthia had to go pick up her shoes (her note says) and she’ll be back in a second.
She must have got held up, so while I’m waiting, I give the kids lunch and do her morning dishes. She doesn’t get back until almost two because that dumb guy at the shoe store didn’t finish fixing her shoes and she had to wait all this time while he did them because he closes in the afternoon and she needed them for work tomorrow. I can see she was really aggravated to hold me up like that but I tell her it’s all right. I was only going to play tennis and he’ll wait.
I love the tennis clothes almost more than actually playing. I have this terry cloth skirt that’s really cute. I just wish my knees weren’t so bony and stick-outy. I should wash my hair, but I don’t feel like it, and besides, it’s only Barry.
His house is beautiful. He must be really rich because it’s like one of those houses you see in magazines and it’s right on the water with a beach in the back and a tennis court in the front. Barry is rallying with some kid, a girl about Nina’s age. He stops as soon as he sees me and comes over to the gate door.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.” I smile. “Hey, don’t let me stop your game. Go on, I’ll sit here and watch for a while.” And I throw my stuff down on a wooden bench.
“That’s okay, we were just killing time. You want to hit some balls?” He completely ignores the girl.
“What about her?”
“That’s nobody,” he says, almost surprised that I mentioned her. “That’s just my sister.” And then he shouts to her that we’re going to use the court—just like that. She shrugs and starts to walk over toward us.
“Can I have winners?” she asks.
“Hey, Kathy,” Barry says impatiently, “don’t bug me. I told you I was going to use the court all afternoon.”
“Can I watch?”
“Oh, for God’s sake! Do you have to?”
“I won’t say anything. I’m just gonna sit here and watch.”
“Let her watch,” I say, “I don’t mind.” Amazing how easy it is when it’s not your sister.
“Yeah, wait till you see what a pain in the neck she is.” He says it like she’s not even there.
“Is it okay if I move your stuff?” Kathy asks me. She’s tough like Nina. You can insult Nina and say anything you want right in front of her, and nothing, she never even gets embarrassed.
“Beat it, Kathy,” he tells her.
“It’s a free country. I can stand where I want.” And she puts her hands on her hips and just stands there. I think this kid must be taking lessons from Nina. Now he’s the one who’s getting embarrassed.
“Hey, Barry, it’s okay with me, really.” I jump in, trying to save the situation. “Let her watch.”
“See, even she doesn’t care, big shot,” Kathy says, and she really is a pain. I think I’ll have no trouble creaming Barry, he’s so thrown, but he blitzes me anyway. He’s a fabulous player. We rally a few times and you can see he’s trying to hit balls that I can return, which is very nice of him, and he’s so good that they come in straight and I’m hitting them with no trouble at all, or hardly any. We don’t even see when Kathy gets bored and leaves.
After a while we both start clowning around, imitating ballet dancers and ninety-year-old people playing tennis. Then Barry does a zoo thing where he’s a monkey and a chicken, and I know it sounds like the dumbest thing but it’s absolutely hysterical. I laugh so hard I keep collapsing on the ground. Finally I have to run off the court because if I don’t I swear I’m going to wet my pants—I mean, he is so wild. I think he could be a comedian.
“How about a swim?” he says, coming over to where I’ve thrown myself down on the grass trying to catch my breath.
“Yes, help,” I gasp and we both head for the pool.
It’s terrific being with Barry when he doesn’t push all that heavy stuff on me. In fact I laugh more with him than with Steffi even, and she and I spend half the time being hysterical about something or someone. It’s as though Barry is an old frie
nd—I mean that’s how comfortable I feel with him. I love to have boys for friends but it’s always hard because mostly they don’t want to be just friends. Too bad.
The inside of his house is even better than the outside. It’s all bright green and white, and it looks clean and crisp. I love it. I change into my bikini and head for the pool. It’s in the back of the house on a wooden deck facing the ocean. The water is bright aqua and so delicious-looking. I dive right in.
You know how in all the ads the girls look so fabulous after they come out of the water even with dripping hair? Not me. I look like real people do when they’re wet, only worse.
Kathy comes out with a friend and we all play some dumb kid games in the pool and have a great time, chasing each other and diving in and all that. At one point I’m “it,” and I’m tearing around the pool chasing Patty, Kathy’s friend, and she’s screaming, and I’m just about to grab her when out of the corner of my eye I see a figure. A girl’s figure. A great girl’s figure and long blond hair, and I stop midair.
“I win! I win!” Patty shouts, and I know with-out looking that I lose and it isn’t the game.
“Hi, everybody,” says Gloria, and my heart actually stops for a second and then starts pounding so hard I can hardly hear myself think.
I turn around and look and there she is, looking perfect. Her blond hair catching the sun makes her look like one of those religious pictures where there’s a halo of light around the angel’s head. Even if I’m going a little too far, still she looks fabulous. Her bikini is a light blue velour that probably matches her vacant eyes.
And right behind her is Jim. What a blow. So that’s the special something that came up. It’s not that I thought we were going steady or anything like that, but . . . I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t expect to see Gloria out here. I can hardly bring my eyes up to his face, I feel so embarrassed. He should be just as embarrassed as me except when I do look at him he isn’t at all, but he does look surprised to see me.
By now my face is so burning red that all I can do to save myself is jump into the pool. I dive and I’m in such shock that I do a horrendous bellyflop. Why do I always look bad when it’s so important to look good? Anyway, I keep swimming around, stalling for time. I hear Barry calling my name, but I pretend I don’t. What if I just stayed here . . . forever? After a while I’d be a curiosity and people would come over to Barry’s just to see the girl in the pool. I’d get my name in the Guinness Book of Records.
My First Love and Other Disasters Page 11
