by Amy Polino
Susan arrived a little before six. I was just starting to worry that she wasn’t going to make it when I heard her car pull up. This time it was me who got excited; my father just sat there, scribbling faster with his pen as if he knew a major distraction was imminent. I got up and answered the door just before she had a chance to knock, or ring the bell, or whichever one she’d choose if given the chance.
Her face lit up when she saw me, and it warmed my heart. There was no way someone could smile like that if they weren’t legitimately glad to see you. I was glad to see her, too, with her gorgeous blonde hair blowing in the wind, and her adorable face and her bright blue eyes. She had on her white faux fur coat again, and was carrying another bundle of dishes. “Amy! Hi!”
“Hi Susan.” I held the door open for her, and she climbed in.
My father put his papers down for a moment and rushed over to take the dishes out of her hands. He also gave her a little kiss, but it’s barely worth mentioning. He gave her half a smile and said, “Nice to see you.”
Susan kissed him back and made a joke about not seeing him for over two hours. He nodded politely and carried the food into the kitchen.
I shut the door and stepped closer to her as she was removing her coat. I couldn’t wait to see what she was wearing. She was really here! My heart was racing as if she were mine. The exotic, subtle scent of her perfume filled the room, making me almost swoon. “May I take your coat?”
She smiled at me and handed it over. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re very welcome.” I folded the coat very carefully, trying not to let her see that I was kind of hugging it to me and inhaling her scent from it. As I set it gently on the rocking chair, I gazed at her, taking in her outfit. She was dressed very casually, with faded jeans and a light green silk shirt. She had on her snow boots again, and they looked so cute on her I wanted to cry.
“I feel bad you had to cook again. Next time you’ve got to let me take a turn.”
“Maybe,” she said. She rolled up her sleeves partway and then did something that completely amazed me: she held her arms out as if in preparation for a hug. My mouth opening, I immediately took a step toward her. I must have looked confused, because she gave me a shy little grin and said, “A little hug?”
Oh my god! It was almost too good to be true. I went right to her and threw my arms around her. I hugged her fiercely, causing her to giggle. Her body felt so wonderful in my arms, and when her arms encircled me I almost gasped with pleasure. I buried my face in her soft, clean hair and breathed deeply, holding her tight. For just a moment everything in the world was perfect. We fit together so well that it was like we were meant to be. Then suddenly she let go of me and pulled back.
“I’m sorry,” I said, straightening up. “Did I squeeze you too hard?”
“No! Not at all!” She looked very happy. “You sure do make me feel welcome.”
I felt dizzy. “You are welcome.”
“I forgot how sweet you are.”
“You should come by more often.”
The look on her face when I said that was heartrending. It was as if no one had ever said anything so kind to her, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’d like to,” she finally said. “I really would.”
I motioned to the couch and stepped over, taking a seat. “Why don’t you?”
Susan sat down, but far on the opposite end. We were in the same position we’d been in the previous week. “I would have. I just wasn’t sure...” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to push myself on anyone. Jeffrey invited me a couple days ago, but I thought I ought to wait. I don’t want the two of you getting sick of me, or dreading my visits.”
“Are you kidding? I wish you were here all the time.” It was a stupid thing to say. I said it without thinking, and the surprise was clear on her face.
“Really?”
“I’m sorry.” For some reason, I didn’t want her thinking I was infatuated with her, even though I was. “I just mean, it gets really boring around here. No one ever comes over. Having you here last week was really nice.”
She settled back, sinking into the cushions. When she looked at me, her eyes were very solemn. “You know, Jeffrey and I talked at length about the possibility of us... maybe at some point living together. But he made it sound as though you wouldn’t approve.”
“He said that?”
“No. But he implied it. He said that he thought you might... resent me. As if I were trying to take the place of your... mom.”
“Are you kidding?” I wasn’t surprised he’d say something like that because it had come up before, many years ago, when I’d asked him why he never dated anyone. “I lost my mom when I was practically a child. I’m going to be eighteen this summer.”
“I know. But he made me feel as though... we should wait. For your sake.”
“That’s ridiculous. I would never accuse you of anything so silly. Just the idea of it...”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you this. It seems ridiculous to me, too.” She smiled warmly. “I almost get the feeling that you’d like me around as much as he would.”
It frightened me a little that it was that obvious, but there was no way I was going to disagree with her. “I do want you around. I like you.” It made me wonder what, exactly, her living situation was. “Do you rent an apartment?”
“Yes. Month to month. It’s alright, for now.”
“Well, if he really thinks --”
Just then my father stuck his head in the door. “Dinner’s ready.”
We nodded and stood up.
“Maybe we could discuss this over dinner,” Susan said.
* * *
Dinner this time around was an oriental-style chicken and rice stir-fry, with lots of vegetables, even those little mini corn cobs and lots of water chestnuts, which I loved. There were even egg rolls, and it was all homemade. We dug in and lost ourselves in the delectable meal, hardly able to speak until we were at least partially full.
“I could really get used to eating like this,” my father commented.
I could tell Susan appreciated the comment. I was going to counter with a remark about my own cooking skills, which were not at all bad, but decided not to. Instead I nodded and told her it was delicious.
“Thank you. It wasn’t really difficult.”
“I’ll bet the egg rolls were kind of tricky,” I said, helping myself to another one.
She smiled. “I’ve got a good cook book.”
“I could buy the same one,” my father said. “And there’s no way I’d be able to cook like this.”
Susan giggled politely. She seemed very happy at our table, with us showering her with praise. I really liked her there, and hoped she’d end up moving in with us.
We finished dinner, and then another dish was unveiled, this one containing dessert. It was a beautiful little chocolate hazelnut cake, with little crushed hazelnuts all around the edges. My father jumped up and cleared our plates away, replacing them with little dessert plates and clean forks.
“It looks too good to eat,” he said, hovering over it with a knife.
“Oh, just cut it. I could always make another one next week.”
“Or sooner,” I blurted.
They both looked at me, and then at each other.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just thought it might be nice if Susan was here more often.”
They both nodded, my father looking a little nervous all of a sudden. “It would be nice,” he agreed. He began cutting the cake, placing a piece on each of the three little plates.
When we each had a plate in front of us and were all seated again, Susan looked over at my father. “Amy and I were talking about the same thing you and I were discussing these past few weeks.” She cut off a piece of her cake and slipped it into her mouth.
My father also took a bite. “Oh?”
“You know, about my living situation.”
&
nbsp; He nodded. “This is fantastic. You really made this?”
Susan smiled. “It wasn’t difficult. Same cook book.”
“That’s a hell of a book you’ve got.”
She laughed, cutting off another piece with her fork. “It is a nice one.”
I tried a piece of the cake myself. I was much more interested in the discussion which was taking shape than in the cake, but the cake was indeed terrific. “My god,” I said. “This is better than the bakery.”
“It really is,” my father agreed, gobbling up some more.
“I’m glad you both like it. I’ll have to make it again sometime.”
We ate in silence for a moment and then my father cleared his throat. “So... what precisely did the two of you decide?”
“We didn’t decide anything,” Susan said. “We were just talking it over.” She looked at me. “But Amy seems to be fine with the idea.”
He looked at me, his fork dangling in front of his mouth. “You’d really be okay with it?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have some say in this, because you do. This is your house, too, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here.”
“It’s fine, dad. I like Susan. If the two of you are going to be together, it would only make sense.”
He ate another piece of his cake, looking at Susan. “You want to do this? For real?”
She nodded. “I don’t want to force myself on anyone. But if the two of you genuinely want me to move in, I’d love to. I like both of you so much, and I think it would make things easier for us all. I’d be able to make nice dinners like this every night.”
“I’ll be fat by summer,” my father complained.
Susan laughed. “That’s your problem. I’ll still love you.”
He blushed at this, and quickly glanced at me, as if gauging my reaction to her words. I did my best to keep my expression neutral. “I’ll just have to cut back my portion sizes. And maybe exercise a little more.”
“That’s a fine idea. I can cook light, too. And only make desserts once a week.”
“You don’t have to sell me on anything. It’s really up to Amy.” He looked at me again. “Why don’t you think it over? There’s no rush.”
“I don’t know what I need to think about,” I said. “I’m fine with the idea. I think it would be fun having Susan here.”
Susan was obviously pleased by this. She smiled at me again and set her fork down. “You know, I didn’t pay my rent yet for February. Technically, I could just let them keep my security deposit and leave there by the end of this month.”
My father’s eyes widened at this bit of news. “So soon?”
She looked suddenly crestfallen. “No. I’m sorry. We can wait --”
“No, no, I didn’t meant it like that.” He put his fork down and wiped his mouth. His face was turning red. “I just... wasn’t sure when we were talking about. The end of the month is fine.”
“You can start moving your stuff in right away,” I said. “So you don’t have so much work to do all at once.”
That brightened her expression again, and it made me feel glad to be the cause of it. She looked at my father. “I don’t know. If it’s really too soon...”
“No. I’m sorry I said that. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”
“You could start coming over every day,” I offered. “Bringing a suitcase or two, instead of dinner. You can let me cook for the next couple of weeks, and before you know it you’ll be all moved in.”
She nodded. “That sounds like a really good idea. But now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t wait a little longer. Maybe a couple more months, to give you two some time...”
“No,” my father said again. “I really didn’t mean anything. I want you to move in. We’ve already discussed it, and if Amy likes the idea, there’s no reason to wait.”
“I could help you this weekend,” I told her. “I’ve got no plans. We could load up your car and make a bunch of trips.”
She smiled at me again. I could tell I was making her happy with my enthusiasm, and that was my intention. “You’re so thoughtful.”
I nodded. “I’d really like for you to move in. I feel like I’d have a new friend.”
“You would!” she said happily. “So would I.”
“Well, it’s settled, then,” my father said, picking up his fork. “Just start moving in whenever you feel like it. Me and Amy will make a few changes here to better accommodate your stuff.”
Everyone felt a lot better after that. We finished our cake and Susan began to quiz me about colleges again. It was her opinion that I ought to get started right away with the application process. I readily agreed to her suggestion and began to feel very excited about everything. It was like she breathed life into me again. Everything seemed suddenly perfect.
* * *
When we were done in the kitchen, the three of us decided we’d watch a movie together. There was one coming on cable at just that time that my father and Susan both wanted to see, and so we moved into the living room, taking our drinks with us.
My father picked up the remote and found the right channel while Susan and I took our spots on the couch. I sat a little closer to the middle, and I was extremely pleased to see that she did, too. I felt that she was really my friend now, and not just my father’s.
Then my father turned around and looked at us, making no move to sit in his chair.
“Something wrong?” I asked him.
He shrugged, licking his lips. “You want to take a turn in my chair?”
The question annoyed me. It was his chair and he always sat in it. I’d made the mistake of sitting in it only once before, very soon after he’d bought it, and he’d let me know in no uncertain terms that it was his chair. The couch was mine, he’d said. Now, with Susan there, he suddenly changed his mind. Of course, it would have been unreasonable of me to not move and allow him to sit beside his girlfriend, but it still bothered me. “Sure,” I said quietly. I felt the familiar wave of sadness come over me as I got up and moved away from Susan, taking my place in his big dumb chair.
I watched as he plopped himself down right in the middle of the couch, taking another sip of his little drink. He set it on the coffee table and then turned up the volume on the TV just as the movie was starting.
Susan, I saw, slid a little closer to him and then his arm came up and went around her shoulders. She leaned into him, seemingly very content and satisfied. It hurt me to see this, and I looked away. I still felt my father didn’t deserve her for some reason. He didn’t even strike me as being a real man. Of course, considering what Susan had told me, that was kind of why she liked him.
I sat and stared at the TV, paying no attention whatsoever to the movie. I no longer wanted to watch it, or even be in the room. I felt bitter and somehow betrayed. It was senseless, I know, but it’s how I felt.
I sat there with my eyes half-closed, losing myself in a little fantasy. In my fantasy, Dianne was there, squeezed into the chair beside me. We had our arms around each other, just like my father and Susan, only we were much happier and really in love. I felt better while pretending she was there, but every once in awhile I’d sneak little glances at the two of them and I’d instantly feel rotten again. After forty minutes or so I got sick of it and stood up, telling them I was going to read my book in my room.
They acted surprised I didn’t want to watch the rest of the movie, but I really didn’t. I hadn’t paid attention to a single minute of it. I said goodnight to them and retrieved my book from the coffee table.
Then I walked down the hall and went to bed.
Chapter 7
If anything good came of that night, it’s that I was no longer infatuated with Susan. I mean, maybe I was, but I no longer allowed myself to believe that I’d ever be with her other than as a friend, or perhaps as a stepdaughter. I was still very friendly to her, and I did he
lp her move, but I was also somewhat distant. No more hugging her coat or trying to intentionally inhale her perfume. No more hugging her, either, as much as I wanted to. I’d just be torturing myself if I allowed that to continue.
She moved in with us slowly during the course of the next week or two, and began sleeping over in my father’s bed. It made me feel even worse than I thought it would, knowing they were in there together. I began to wish I’d never been so enthusiastic about her moving in. I was well aware that the entire dilemma was the result of my own unreasonable inclinations, but that didn’t make it any easier for me. I spent more and more time alone in my room, trying to keep her out of my mind.
She must have noticed the change in me, but she was so busy trying to keep my father happy that she didn’t pursue the cause of it. At least that was my impression. Maybe she just figured the novelty of her being there had worn off, and that’s why I paid so much less attention to her.
She was always the first one home now, and when I returned from school she’d be in the kitchen cooking away. Sometimes I’d offer to help her, and sometimes she’d take me up on it, but for the most part she did the cooking. I spent most of my free time reading. I liked having my mind elsewhere, where it wasn’t so depressing.
Eventually, she was all moved in. Her and my father went through a little lovey-dovey phase where they sat together on the couch every night and went to bed together, always at the same time. There was no animosity, or hard feelings; I don’t want to give you that idea. I still found Susan thrillingly attractive, and secretly wanted her for myself, but I had come to understand it would never happen, and so avoided her much of the time for my own peace of mind.
* * *
The days and weeks passed without anything really interesting happening. When Valentine’s day arrived my father took her up to some fancy hotel in New York and I had the place to myself for one night. Susan had the house fairly well stocked with wine by then, which was her drink of choice, and I helped myself to a bottle of it while they were gone. I drank it right out of the bottle while lying on the couch and watching TV. I imagined that Dianne was with me, but of course she wasn’t. That was my Valentine’s day. I woke up with a hangover the next morning, but still went to school.
