Maybe he really does want to talk. Maybe I insulted him by not even just going with him to chat for a while. No wonder he’s angry. It was really babyish of me to think that all he wants to do is make out with me. How are we ever going to have a relationship if I don’t trust him? That’s it.
“Listen, Jim,” I say, “I’m really sorry I acted that way. If you want to go . . .” And right in the middle of my apology he takes off. He just walks away. I watch him and I can’t believe my eyes. I run after him and grab his arm. “What’s the matter?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Can’t you even tell me what’s wrong?”
He shakes my arm away and stares hard at me. “Come back in a year or two,” he says. “You have a lot of growing up to do.” And he turns away and goes up to another girl, a pretty blond, and pretty soon they’re dancing.
My throat chokes up and tears fill my eyes. I’m in the middle of a crowded disco but now I don’t see anything or anyone. I can’t just stand here with tears running down my face. I’ve got to get out of here but I can’t even see enough to find my way out. Naturally I don’t have a tissue so I have to wipe my eyes with my sleeve so anybody watching me must know I’m crying. Who cares? As soon as I can see in front of me I push through the door. I hear Anita calling me but I don’t even turn around. I just keep walking until I’m out of the door and down the stairs, and then I start running and I’m really crying.
I hate him! I hate him with all my heart. How could he do that to me! Finally I’m crying so hard I have to sit down on a bench on the side of the walk-way, and I just sob like I haven’t done since I was really little. I’ve never been so unhappy in all my life.
And there’s something else. I’ve been a terrible person. I’m really surprised at myself. I’m not at all like I thought I was going to be. I would hate it if someone else acted the way I did—to Barry and even Gloria, I mean.
I can’t believe how bad I feel.
I get back into the house and thank goodness everybody’s sleeping, so I just go up to my room and get into bed and turn out the light. I wish I was home. I hate it here.
Fifteen
Tuesday morning is crazy busy because Cynthia has to make an eight o’clock ferry to be in the city for an eleven o’clock appointment. She overslept so we all end up flying around the house trying to help. The rushing pays off because she just barely makes the ferry. Actually they hold it a couple of seconds for her. The kids are jumping up and down, shouting, “Wait! Wait!” while Cynthia races down the dock. One of the men gives her a hand and she leaps on. We stand there waving until she’s far out of sight.
I hope she doesn’t run into my parents. I told you we live in the same apartment house, and it could be embarrassing since I never spoke to Cynthia about the sleeping-out business. I’m going to but I’m just waiting for the right moment. She probably won’t see them anyway because she said she was only stopping off there to pick up something and then going right on to her appointment.
In all the furious activity I didn’t have any chance to think about yesterday. Ever since I got up this morning I’ve had a sort of heavy feeling, and now that everything’s quietened down and I start thinking about how horrendous yesterday was I almost feel sick. I practically wish I’d never come out here. Maybe I can’t really make it on my own. All I know is that I keep doing things that make me feel terrible the next day. There must be something awful wrong with me if that keeps happening.
In all the rushing to get Cynthia on her way, the kids never did eat breakfast, so I fix the usual when we get home. They’re just finishing when somebody knocks on the front door. We don’t even have a bell and the door is always unlocked (almost always). That’s one of the special things I like about Fire Island, you never even think about being scared. It’s really open and very safe.
DeeDee jumps up from the table and runs to open the door. I hear a happy squeal and I can’t figure out who’s there so I poke my head into the living room and get a big shock. It’s an old man, with lots of white hair, dressed in a suit and tie. He has DeeDee in his arms, and, right away, the first think I think is, Damn it, it’s Mr. Landry, and I want to sit down and cry because everything is just so awful and now this.
“Is that Victoria?” Mr. Landry asks DeeDee, and she nods and says to me, “This is my grandpa,” and gives him a big squeeze with all her might, and he laughs and gives her a big kiss on the cheek.
All this time David was upstairs changing into his bathing suit, but when he hears who’s here he comes charging down the stairs two steps at a time and practically jumps into his grandfather’s arms, which happen to be completely filled with DeeDee.
“Hold it! Hold it!” Mr. Landry says, and with a lot of laughing and hugging he struggles free. You can see he loves it.
“Grandpa! Victoria said you couldn’t come,” David cries. “She said you had to go to the doctor with your friend.” David sounds like he’s practically accusing me of something.
“Is that what she said?” Mr. Landry acts surprised. The rat. I can’t believe he’s going to stick me with a bum story. “I guess she just wanted to surprise you,” he says. I know the kids love him but I don’t think I’m so crazy about him.
“I didn’t tell anyone about the phone call, Grandpa,” says DeeDee, “and Victoria says I’m going to get the button.”
“The button?” he asks.
Naturally he doesn’t know anything about the special grandpa club button. Still, you’d think he’d play along. But all he says is, “Never heard of it.” He’s really beginning to bug me.
“Where’s your mother?” he asks, looking around like he didn’t know she was going to the city. The kids tell him where she went.
“Looks like I missed her,” he says, “but I’ll catch her when she comes home.” Then to me, “When’s she coming home?”
“Dinner time, I guess,” I say.
“Shame,” he says, “but I gotta leave around five. It’s okay, though, I’ll catch her the next time.”
Damn. He sneaks out here when he knows Cynthia’s away, spends the day with the kids, and then disappears and sticks me with explaining to their mom.
The kids keep bugging him to eat something, and finally he says okay, he’ll have some coffee. All the while he keeps asking what train Cynthia is making and trying to figure out what ferry she’d be making if she was going to get home for dinner. I think he’s kind of nervous about being here.
After his coffee he plays with the kids and he’s really terrific with them. He makes them laugh with some crazy imitations of a barnyard and what happens when Cornelius’s cat gets into the chicken coop. And it really is funny. Even I laugh.
What isn’t funny is how he jumps when Steven from across the street comes in. Then I realize that he’s afraid about Cynthia. I don’t know how come I didn’t see it before, but he’s so crazy about the kids that he takes a chance and comes all the way out here just because he has to see them and all the while he’s really scared about meeting Cynthia. It takes a lot of guts to go somewhere where you’re not wanted and you could even be thrown out. Cynthia would do that. She’s that angry about her ex, Jed.
Anyway, it’s terrible to see a grandfather have to sneak around just to see his own grandchildren who love him. And it’s not as though he’s a bad man. At least I hope he isn’t. I mean, think about it, suppose you get an old man who’s a criminal. He’s probably someone’s grandfather. Anyway, anyone can see Mr. Landry isn’t a criminal.
The big excitement is when he tells them that he’s going to rent a little dinghy and they’re all going fishing. They positively go bananas and it takes us ten minutes to calm them down. I get DeeDee into her bathing suit and they get their towels and life preservers and they’re ready. Mr. Landry says he’s going to buy some sandwiches and they’ll have a picnic on the boat.
I figure that since he’s on Social Security he probably doesn’t have all that money, so I say, “Why don’t I make the sandwiches here?” and for the first time
he looks a little grateful. I suppose maybe he thinks I’m on Cynthia’s side and he doesn’t trust me too much. I’m not so crazy for him as a person, but as a grandfather he’s terrific.
Mr. Landry doesn’t want to change at the house so he stops into the pizza bar and puts on his fishing clothes and packs his regular clothes in a brown shopping bag. He ends up looking like one of those old New England fishermen. He’s even got the hat with the flies stuck on it.
Anyway, I walk them down to the dock, where he rents a little sailing dinghy because all the fishing dinghies are already out. People go fishing really early. The boat’s a perfect size for the three of them.
They go off, and I realize that the kids haven’t argued once since their grandfather came. He must be magic because mostly they can’t be together for two seconds without fighting. Just like Nina and me.
Nothing to do but go home. Just as I get to the house the phone is ringing. I make a run for it. Maybe it’s Jim. Maybe he reconsidered. Even if I did act a little immature last night, still, that’s the kind of thing people can talk over and straighten out. I grab the phone on the fifth ring. At least I don’t have to worry that it’s Mr. Landry.
“Hello,” I say. Let it be Jim.
“Victoria? It’s me, Anita.”
“Hi, what’s up?”
“That’s what I was going to ask you. How come you weren’t at the beach this morning?”
“Yeah, well . . . DeeDee had a sort of stomach ache so we hung around here. She’s okay now.”
“Good, ‘cause we were wondering if something was wrong. You left so fast last night. I mean, I called you but you just kept going.” I know she’s fishing for the story of what happened with Jim, but she’s not going to get anything from me. She’s okay, Dana is, too, but they’re not my good friends. I only just met them, so I don’t expect them to stand up for me or anything like that. But I don’t like the idea of them gossiping about me either.
“Gee, I’m sorry,” I say, “I didn’t hear you calling me. I had to rush because I forgot that I promised Cynthia I’d be home by nine thirty. There was something urgent she had to do and she needed my help.”
“Well, we thought something was wrong because you left alone.” She’s dying for the real story but she’s never going to hear it from me.
“Yeah, I know, Jim was really upset but I told him to stay and dance. I think I’m getting a little tired of him anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Sort of. . . . What’s up, anyway?”
“Nothing much. I was just wondering if you’re going to be free tonight.”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Dear old Ron just called from the city and he’s got some business thing so he’s staying over, and lover boy is out of town so Eva is stuck home. I thought maybe I’d go down to The Monkey tonight. Wanna go?”
“I don’t know yet. Cynthia’s in town, too, and I don’t know what time she’s coming back.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, Ron and Cynthia both in town together.”
“Yeah, sure.” She’s really beginning to bug me, so I tell her I have some things I have to do and that I’ll call her later, and hang up.
Well, I have a whole day to sit around and be miserable about yesterday. I probably sound like it’s not so bad, but really it’s horrendous. I can’t see how I can face any of those people again in my whole life. It’s even terrible what I did to Gloria. She never did anything to me except be Jim’s girlfriend, which isn’t something you can exactly blame her for. And Barry. How can I be so awful to hurt him again after what I did the first time! And Jim? He’s not a whole lot better than I am. We make a great pair except that I don’t really think we’re ever going to be a pair again. I think he’s going to go right back to Gloria, and I bet she’d take him back. When it comes to Jim, she’s really got it as bad as me.
I sound like I have it all figured out, but I absolutely don’t except for maybe one thing. I think I’m still so hooked on Jim that I would do almost anything to get him back, and if it means trying to act more mature, I guess I would do that too. That’s all I’ve been thinking about since last night.
I actually sit on my bed most of the afternoon and even cry because I feel so unhappy. I probably should have gone to camp like I did last year and then I wouldn’t have all this trouble. In camp you can be a little kid again. They do all the thinking for you. I’m beginning to think this being on your own, like now, is for the birds. Not really, but it is tough to be able to do practically anything you want. There’s just too many ways to make mistakes.
I would call my parents but I couldn’t tell any of this to my mother. She’d probably be shocked and maybe she’d tell my father and then I’d really die. I could send a letter to Steffi, but she’s away with her father on a camping trip, and anyway I don’t think I want to put everything down in a letter. It’d be too depressing. I didn’t commit a crime or anything like that, but you know what? I feel like I’m in one of those old movies where this rat of a girl, the trampy siren, steals the heroine’s boyfriend (not that I see Gloria exactly as a heroine) and the rat steps all over everyone and you really hate her and that’s just what I feel like.
I can hardly believe that’s me because I always see myself as the heroine. In my fantasies the Glorias are bad and I’m terrific. In my dreams I’m the one who gets the boy because I’m so wonderful and good. But this time I got him because I’m really bad. Except maybe I didn’t exactly get him anyway. I’m confused.
I don’t even feel like lunch, and when the phone rings I practically jump out of my skin. It’s got to be Jim. I pick it up and say a really little “Hello.”
“Victoria? It’s Cynthia.”
Uh-oh.
“Everything okay? The kids okay?”
“Everything’s great. Were you on time for your appointment?” Oh, God, I hope she doesn’t ask to talk to the kids.
“Right on time,” she says. “Thanks for your help.”
“I almost died when the boat started to move out.” Maybe I can keep her mind off them.
“Me too, but I made it. Listen, honey, I’ve run into a little problem and I need your help.”
My help. First thing I think of it’s more shrimp. “Sure,” I say. What can you say when someone asks your help.
“I may have to spend the night in the city because there’s a late appointment I should keep.”
Oh, no! I’m torn. I promised my parents that I wouldn’t stay alone overnight with the kids, but it would work out so great if she didn’t come home tonight. Mr. Landry could spend the day with David and DeeDee and then he could go home and I could invent some Big Secret Day or something and they’d keep quiet about their grandpa and then maybe that would be the end of it. I mean, he would have seen the kids and that would keep them happy for a while, and then there wouldn’t have to be any horrendous scenes when Cynthia came home. Maybe Cynthia could straighten things out with Jed and nobody would have to know what happened until everything was okay again. And anyway, it would only be this one time that she would sleep out, and my folks wouldn’t ever have to know. I know it’s the wrong way to do things, but I’d go nuts if I had to face anymore problems right now.
“It’s okay with me, Cynthia,” I tell her. “Don’t worry, I can handle things here.”
She gave me a few instructions—who to call if I need any help and how to lock the front door. I can tell she’s absolutely delighted about the arrangements and is so hot to get off the phone that she doesn’t even ask anything else about the kids. Except by now I’ve got it together and I could tell her how David and DeeDee are across at Steven’s. It’s awful how if you lie once it seems you have to keep on lying. You always have to cover it with another one. I’m never going to get myself in a hole like this again. Boy, will I be glad when this day is over.
I wonder if Anita is right. About Ron and Cynthia having an affair, I mean. It fits right
in with the rest of this mess.
I get back to thinking about last night and make myself even more miserable about Jim. It can’t just end this way. I have to see him once more. And I don’t care how. I decide I’m going to call him as soon as he gets off work about five. Then I think about how badly it’s all been going and how gross I acted and finally I guess I just cry myself to sleep.
Sixteen
The next thing I know, someone is shaking me awake. I open my eyes and squint up and it’s Cynthia, and for a minute I don’t know whether it’s morning or night. I can’t figure out what she’s doing waking me up, and then I remember about Mr. Landry and the kids and I nearly panic.
“Victoria,” she says, standing over me. “What’s going on here!” I can see she’s angry. “Where are the children?”
“The kids?” I sit up. I search around frantically for something to tell her and then see it’s not nighttime.
“How come you’re home so early?” Now I’m really confused.
“You’re damn right I’m home early,” she says, and she’s not just angry, she’s furious. “Why didn’t you tell me your parents didn’t want you to stay alone overnight? I asked you if it would be all right. Why didn’t you tell me?” And she charged on without even letting me get a word in. “What a damn embarrassment to run into your mother in a crowded elevator and have her inform me that I cannot leave you alone here at night.” Cynthia continues. “Why did you lie to me?” Oh, no! They did bump into each other. Just my luck.
“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . .” I start to apologize but she cuts me off.
“Where are the kids? Are they at Steven’s?”
“What time is it?” I’ve got to get myself together.
“What difference does that make? Where are they? Tell me this instant!” Now she’s in a panic.
“It’s okay, Cynthia, they’re okay. They’re with their grandfather.” You can’t fool around when someone thinks their kids are missing.
My First Love and Other Disasters Page 13
