Candace

by Maggie Wells

  If Danilo was uncomfortable, he didn’t show it. He exchanged idle chatter with Candace’s parents and Sara all the way to Sugar Bush, acting as if he had known them forever. Candace was in awe. How do the Paulies do it? she wondered. Are they born with refined social skills?

  Darkness fell as they pulled into the town of Warren.

  “Anybody hungry?” Daddy asked.

  There was a chorus of “me” in reply.

  Daddy pulled into the parking lot of The Common Man.

  “This place is supposed to be good,” he said.

  The restaurant was massive—room after room, each with a fireplace and stone walls. They were guided to a table next to a family of seven with two small children who were talking loudly and banging their spoons on the table.

  “Who brings toddlers to a ski resort?” hissed Mommy.

  “They probably ski better than me,” said Candace.

  “Everybody skis better than you,” said Sara.

  Candace looked at Danilo and grimaced. His demeanor was placid.

  Daddy did most of the talking at dinner, asking Danilo about his major, his family, his plans for the future. Candace was mostly mute, admiring his unruffled performance.

  As they arrived at the condo, Daddy made a big display of the spaciousness and opulence and pointed out that there were three bedrooms—one for Danilo in the adjacent wing. Danilo and Candace exchanged wistful glances as they headed for their rooms.

  “This whole thing is a mistake,” Candace said as she climbed into bed.

  “You should have booked your own condo,” Sara said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Candace said. “I just mean that it’s too soon to be meeting the ’rents. We’re not even serious. Why did I invite him? Why did he even agree to come?”

  “You’re not serious? Mommy said this might be your last chance.”

  “What am I, thirty?” Candace exclaimed. Jesus, I just got accepted to Princeton. Why can’t that be enough for them?

  “Hey, you invited him. It’s your funeral,” Sara said.

  Candace bit into the dinner roll she had pirated from the restaurant. My jeans are not going to fit me tomorrow, she thought.

  Candace awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Mommy was dishing up waffles to Danilo.

  “Good morning,” Candace said to nobody in particular.

  “Bella mia!”

  Sure, Candace thought, you’re charming in the morning, too.

  Mommy was all decked out in her designer skiwear. Candace was still in her baggy flannel pajamas.

  “Candace.” Mommy’s voice took on an edge. “We’ll want to be on the lift at nine. Will you be ready?”

  All Candace wanted to do was inhale a waffle and fall back into bed.

  “Sure, Mommy,” she said.

  As she left the room, she heard Mommy saying to Danilo, “I don’t know what you see in her.”

  Candace took a break from skiing at lunch while Danilo joined Daddy for several more runs. She saw Mommy and Sara at a table on the deck and clomped over in her ski boots to join them.

  Mommy surveyed Candace’s tray. “French fries?” she said.

  “I’m hungry. I didn’t have breakfast,” Candace said.

  “You should always eat breakfast,” Mommy said. Then turning to Sara, she said, “Didn’t you want to make another run with Daddy?”

  Sara got the hint, gathered up her tray, and headed outside.

  “Danilo seems nice,” Mommy said.

  “Yes.”

  “You probably shouldn’t get too serious. He’s going back to Europe for college and you’re going to Princeton.”

  “I knew this was a mistake,” Candace said. “We’re not serious. We’re just friends. I like him. But I shouldn’t have invited him. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Well he’s very nice, very well-bred,” Mommy said. “We’re happy to have made his acquaintance.”

  Candace wondered if Mommy was regretting the outlay on the condo, the Escalade, the fancy new ski togs.

  Candace suffered through three more days of forced merriment, frozen mittens, and soggy fries from the snack bar. Falling into bed, exhausted by eight. Wakened by the smell of a hearty breakfast that Candace wasn’t allowed to eat. Finally the week ended and they were headed home.

  Back at St. Paul’s, Daddy got out to help Danilo with the luggage.

  “Well, Danilo, it was very nice to meet you.” They shook hands. “I hope you had a good time. Candace, baby, love you,” he said as he crushed her in his massive bear hug. “See you in May? Study hard. Keep up the good work.”

  And then they were gone. Candace and Danilo stood with their luggage and skis in the entryway to the Grand Hall.

  “Um, sorry about all of that,” Candace said. “Did you have fun?”

  “I enjoy you and your family,” he said. “Sara is very fun.”

  “Yes,” she said, relieved. She leaned against him and he put his arm around her. She felt so much better, alone with him again, away from her parents.

  Six

  * * *

  FOR BETTER OR WORSE, THE SKI TRIP HAD BROUGHT THEM closer together. He seemed less formal, she felt more relaxed around him. One Friday night, as he was walking her home after a movie, they lingered in the Meadow, kissing.

  “I don’t want to go home,” she said.

  “No?”

  “Can I stay with you tonight? All night?” she asked.

  “Sure. All night? What about curfew?” Danilo asked.

  “I’ll text Molly. She’ll be cool.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “I want to be with you,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  “You’re ready? For the sex? Oh.” He hesitated. “No, that’s great. Um, I should pick up some condoms. Can we make it to the pharmacy before they close?”

  “You don’t have condoms?” she asked.

  “I know, stupid, right?” He started fumbling in his pocket for his phone. “What time do they close?”

  Candace was tired. She didn’t feel like walking all the way to Main Street. Once, in middle school, she saw a rubber on the ground and everyone walked around it and laughed. Candace couldn’t imagine using something like that. And besides, wouldn’t that spoil the mood? Standing in line at CVS in the glare of florescent lighting?

  “It’s okay. I have protection,” she lied. “And I don’t have AIDS or herpes or anything—do you?” Candace’s knowledge was limited. Apparently her mother hadn’t worried that the sex question would ever come up. What boy would want to have sex with such a hideous creature? Candace had heard there were things you could use after having unprotected sex—like douches. They work, right? Or wasn’t there a morning-after pill?

  “No, no. Of course not the AIDS,” he said.

  “Or herpes?”

  “No, of course not,” he said.

  “Okay, then.” She was feeling bold and empowered, in control of her sexuality. This would be her first time, but he didn’t need to know that.

  He seemed more nervous than she as he fumbled with the lock on his door. But his confidence returned as they groped each other in the darkness. He deftly removed her bra and lowered her gently to the bed, sliding her panties over her thighs and past her toes.

  She was grateful for the dark.

  “You feel great!” he said. As opposed to how I look? she thought. To his hands, I imagine I feel beautiful. Handfuls of warm flesh. He cupped her breasts and she was suddenly self-conscious about their heft and looseness, and she was afraid that he would be grossed out. But no, he seemed turned on.

  “You sure this is okay?” he said breathlessly as he pressed himself against her.

  She was startled at how hard his penis was. It hurt as he pressed it against her thigh and then her belly.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she said.

  Of course she wasn’t sure. She had no idea what was coming next. And, ow! It hurt. Is it supposed to hurt like this?

  He was moanin
g. So she started moaning in rhythm with him. “Yes, yes, yes.” Thinking, ow, ow, ow.

  “Can I come?” he said. “In Italy, we come in the anus. You want me to come in the anus?

  “No,” she said. Gross! she thought.

  Soon enough it was over. He grunted and then let out a little giggle.

  “Oh, that was good,” he said as he rolled onto his back.

  She was thinking, What am I supposed to say? I’m glad? You’re welcome? Thank you?

  But, he was already snoring.

  In the morning, he wanted to go again. She wasn’t wet so he went down on her. She was afraid that she smelled bad, her breath, her B.O. But he didn’t seem to care. She was surprised by the warmth and deliciousness that flooded through her and overwhelmed her until she was shaking. This time when he entered her, she was ready and she pressed her mouth to his, forgetting her self-consciousness, and lost herself in him. When he was done, she was still floating on a wave of abandon and ecstasy.

  She wondered, Was that an orgasm? So this is sex? I think I like this. She chuckled.

  “What’s funny?” he mumbled, half-asleep.

  “That was fun,” she said.

  “Yes,” he said and he held her tighter.

  After that he wanted it every day.

  Candace realized that she needed to go to the clinic and get the pill or a diaphragm or an IUD. Molly and the others talked about it all the time. Orgasms, oral sex, anal sex, abortions, STDs, and protection. She called the clinic and made an appointment, but the waiting list was two weeks long. And yet, because she had told him it was safe, she didn’t object or resist his advances even as she counted the days down to the appointment at the clinic.

  Everything was different once they started having sex. All of a sudden the long hours they’d spent in the library and seeing movies were gone. The time they spent together seemed much more rushed and frantic. And when they had sex it would all be over in just a few minutes. It was all so hurried and almost rough, and it made her think that having sex had taken her to a completely different world.

  Most of the time Danilo only acted tender and loving after he’d come. That was the only time he seemed to notice her. Sometimes when he was thrusting and pushing in her, she felt like it could have been anyone. It didn’t matter who she was or whether she was enjoying it. He never noticed, one way or another. But, she just wanted to make him happy.

  Candace realized how easy it was to have sex but how hard it was to talk about it. They never talked about it. After they had started having sex, they never talked much about anything. They never looked each other in the face. The more they had sex the further apart they seemed.

  Candace usually felt like crying when it was over. She wasn’t sure why. She just felt sad. He’d finish and she’d have tears rolling down her cheeks. At those times Danilo would hold her but it never made her feel much better.

  Candace sat in the waiting room of the clinic with dozens of other students, victims of athletic mishaps, colds, flu, allergies, and an incident involving a swarm of bees. Candace sat in bemused silence and eavesdropped on the patients and nursing staff.

  “Candace Parker!”

  She jumped as her name was called and clumsily gathered her purse and sweater.

  “Follow me, dear,” the nurse said.

  Candace followed her into the exam room. The nurse shut the door.

  “You’re here for a pelvic exam?” The nurse made some notes on a clipboard.

  “Yes,” Candace replied. “Birth control.”

  The nurse looks up. “Are you sexually active?”

  “Yes, I have a boyfriend,” Candace said.

  “Are you using protection?” the nurse said.

  “Yes,” Candace lied, feeling her face getting hot.

  “Did you leave a urine sample at the nurses’ station?” the nurse said.

  “I tried but I couldn’t go,” Candace said.

  “Try again when the doctor is done with the exam. Make sure you leave a sample before you go. Now take off your shoes and step on the scale, please.”

  Candace sucked in her breath and closed her eyes as she heard the nurse nudge the sliding weight to the right, all the way to the right. Then she moved the counter weight up a notch and nudged the sliding weight over again until the horizontal beam finally balanced.

  “One sixty-three,” the nurse said. “Now your height.” She raised the height rod and pressed it on the crown of Candace’s head. “Five feet and four and a half inches.”

  Candace was mortified. One-sixty-three? That can’t be! She started sweating and her heart began to race. Through a fog she saw the nurse’s lips moving, but she wasn’t comprehending.

  “I’m sorry?” Candace said.

  “Have a seat and roll up your sleeve so I can check your blood pressure.”

  The nurse wrapped the Velcro cuff around Candace’s arm. The machine made a whirring noise and the cuff squeezed tight around Candace’s bicep.

  “Ow!”

  “Now don’t be a baby,” the nurse said, scowling. These spoiled rich kids, Candace was sure she was thinking.

  “One-forty over ninety.”

  “Is that good?” said Candace.

  “It’s a little on the high side. You should watch your salt intake,” the nurse said, making more notes on the clipboard. She then spun on her heel and left the room.

  Seven

  * * *

  SLOWLY, CANDACE STEPPED OUT OF HER JEANS AND PANTIES AND THEN TUGGED HER TEE SHIRT OVER HER HEAD. Standing in her bra, she glimpsed herself in the mirror. What a pig, she thought. I never want Danilo to see me naked. Gross!

  She waited on the table for what seemed like forever, feeling exposed in the flimsy paper gown and sheet that kept slipping off of her.

  A knock on the door, and the doctor entered.

  “I’m Dr. Rosenberg,” she said as she extended her hand.

  Candace reached to shake the doctor’s hand and the sheet began to slip again. She clutched at the sheet and the doctor smiled warmly.

  “A little nervous today? Is this your first pelvic exam?” asked Dr. Rosenberg.

  “I guess.” said Candace. “Will this hurt?”

  “Some girls find it a little uncomfortable. We’ll see how you do.” Dr. Rosenberg sat on a low stool and picked up a clipboard. “Let’s see. Are you having any symptoms?”

  “Symptoms?” Candace said.

  “In general—fever, headache, cramps, discharge? How are you feeling, in general?”

  “Fine.”

  “How old were you when you got your first period?”

  “Um.” Candace had to think. “Eleven? Twelve?”

  “And when did your breasts develop?”

  Candace blushed at the thought, remembering fifth grade. “Fifth grade?”

  “Getting younger and younger,” Dr. Rosenberg said to herself. “Are you getting regular periods? Every four weeks?”

  “I don’t really know,” Candace said. “Sometimes four and sometimes more.”

  “That’s perfectly normal.” Dr. Rosenberg’s pen scratched on the clipboard. “When was your last period?”

  Candace thought hard. The ski trip? Right, I got my period on the last day of the trip. I had forgotten to pack tampons and Mommy had to make an emergency run to the Walgreens. Now it all came back to her.

  “February break,” Candace said.

  “How heavy would you say they are? How many tampons do you use in a day?”

  Candace wondered what all this information was leading to. Was Dr. Rosenberg going to have an epiphany?

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  “You’re sexually active?”

  “Yes,” Candace said.

  “How many partners do you have?” asked Dr. Rosenberg.

  “I have a boyfriend. He’s the only one,” Candace said. Is Danilo my boyfriend?

  “And you’re sure he’s monogamous?”

  Monogamous? Candace’s face got hot.
r />   “How would I know that?” she said.

  “He’s one of those, huh?” Dr. Rosenberg pushed her glasses up on her nose and gave Candace a stern look. “Why do you put up with that? On-again, off-again. Comes around for a booty call. Don’t waste your time, my dear!”

  Candace laughed. This kind of frank talk isn’t what I expected to hear from a gynecologist.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. This is a speculum.” She held up a silver instrument that reminded Candace of something her mother might use for potting plants. “I’ve warmed it to body temperature and I’m going to insert this into your vagina. You’ll feel some pressure as I open it to see your vaginal canal and your cervix. Would you like a mirror so you can see?”

  “No, thank you,” Candace said. Gross!

  Dr. Rosenberg continued. “I’m going to look at your cervix and take a tissue sample for the lab. It’s like a giant Q-tip that we might use to take a sample from the inside of your cheek. I’ll press on your abdomen to check the size and shape of your uterus and ovaries. Just to make sure everything is okay. Ready?”

  Candace nodded solemnly.

  “Okay, put your feet in the stirrups and lie back. Now slide your bottom toward the end of the table. A little farther, farther. Okay, right there. Now breathe slowly and relax. Let your knees fall to each side allowing your legs to spread apart. This will only take a minute or two.”

  “Yikes!” Candace yelped as the doctor started the exam.

  “Honey, I’m going to need you to stay still. Try humming to distract yourself. We’re almost done,” the doctor said.

  And then a clank of metal and Candace felt the speculum slide out. Relief!

  The doctor stood over her and untied the robe. “Let me just check your breasts. Pay attention to what I’m doing. You should perform self-exams every month. First the right”—she palpated Candace’s breast—“and the left. Okay, good girl. We’re done. Sit up and cover up.”

  The doctor sat on a low stool next to Candace. “What type of birth control were you thinking of? We have many alternatives: pills, patches, diaphragm, IUD, cervical cap . . . ”