A Girl Like You

by Maria Geraci

  “But Mama J helped raised me. Doesn’t that make me her daughter?”

  “How about we just put your real mama’s name here. I’m sure Jenny will understand. She’s a sensible woman and so is your mother.”

  “I don’t think that would be right,” I said, trying hard not to panic.

  “It’s such a little thing, Emma, there’s really no need to make a production out of it. Is there?”

  “If it’s such a little thing, then why does it matter?” By now I couldn’t help myself. The tears were running down my cheeks.

  Mrs. Atwater put on her most sympathetic face. “I’m sorry, Emma, but I’ve discussed this with the rest of the committee. Either you fix your bio or we’ll have to ask you to withdraw from the ceremony.”

  Looking back at this conversation as an adult, I can see how wrong it was for her to confront me on this without one of my moms present. But as a seventeen-year-old girl, all I could think of was my white dress and how I was going to dance with Nick and if I dropped out now how everyone at school would know I had to abdicate my Dixie Deb status all because of my mothers’ sexual orientation. The whole thing was just so unfair. I’d been dreaming about the Dixie Deb Ball since I was a little girl. It was my moment to shine. To wear a beautiful dress and have people smile at me.

  I wish I could tell you that I stood up and told Mrs. Atwater that she and the rest of the Dixie Deb committee could go straight to hell.

  But I didn’t.

  Instead, I changed the bio on my card to read:

  Emma Louise Frazier is the daughter of Dr. Sheila Frazier.

  I was the last deb to be presented that night. The seven of us stood in a line, each holding her escort’s arm, awaiting our big moment in the sun. Shannon was first. They called her name and read her bio.

  Shannon Marie Dukes is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. William Dukes. Shannon is a senior at Catfish Cove High School and is captain of the cheerleading squad. She’s a member of the pep squad committee, Future Homemakers of America, and Civitans, as well as treasurer of the Spanish club. Shannon designs all her own clothes and hopes to open her own dress shop one day.

  It’s weird how I still remember Shannon’s bio, word for word. I think this is because I knew the bit about her designing all her own clothes was a big fat lie. Shannon used to brag that the 5-7-9 shop at the mall in Tallahassee didn’t have clothes “small” enough to fit her, so she had to have her clothing specially ordered in size zero petite. I wore a junior size thirteen and would have given anything to be able to shop at 5-7-9.

  As each girl was presented, I felt sicker to my stomach. Then it was my turn. I’ll never forget the look on my moms’ faces when they read my bio. They went from proud smiles to confusion to disappointment. It was the most miserable moment of my life. I danced the presentation waltz, but despite my lessons I kept messing up the steps.

  And then it came time to switch partners.

  My heart was beating so fast I couldn’t hear the music. Nick was last. He didn’t meet my eyes. His gaze kept wandering back to Shannon. I stepped on his foot and that’s when he really looked at me. Only instead of the admiration I’d been longing to see, his gaze said, Wow, are you clumsy or what? Despite it being my mistake, though, he mumbled an apology and we switched back to our original partners. Even back then, Nick was a nice guy.

  I didn’t dance again the rest of the evening. After an hour I told my date I wasn’t feeling well and I asked my moms if we could leave. The silence on the drive home threatened to make my ears explode. I walked through the front door and ran to my bedroom, tore my dress off, threw myself down on my bed, and cried myself to sleep. I had never felt more ugly in my life.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, the door to my room creaked open. My moms crawled into my bed and cocooned me up in their arms. It was all I could do not to start bawling again.

  “What kind of sandwich are you?” Mama J whispered.

  My voice cracked as I answered. “Stinky bologna with rotten tomatoes.”

  “Yummy,” said Mom, her voice cracking too as she pulled me tight. “That’s my favorite.”

  chapter twenty-two

  In the morning I wake up first. I’ve already made the coffee by the time Nick comes into the kitchen. He spots Shannon’s box on the table and his dark eyes immediately bore into me. “Did you open this?”

  I was positive I taped the box identical to the way I found it. I guess I’m not as sneaky as I think I am. The truth is, I think I wanted to get caught. I want Nick and me to talk about this box. And more importantly, what it means. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

  Nick shrugs and pours himself a cup of coffee. He doesn’t ask me what’s in the box. Isn’t he curious? Unless…he already knows what’s in it. Which would mean that he knew he had it all along and kept it on purpose. I really don’t want to think about that scenario.

  “I can take the box by Shannon’s place later this afternoon,” I tell him.

  “I thought you were going to Carpe Diem after we finished painting.”

  “I can drop it off on the way there.”

  “Okay,” he says, reaching for the newspaper.

  We drink our coffee in silence. I know technically we “made up” last night but I’ve decided enough is enough. If Nick and I are going to have a shot, then we need to talk about his past.

  “Tell me what happened between you and Shannon,” I say.

  He puts down his paper. “I knew you were going to want to hash this out today.”

  “Guess what? You were right.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. We were married, she screwed around on me, and we got a divorce. End of story.”

  “Nick, I’m having dinner with your family tonight and that officially makes us a big deal. If our relationship is going to go any further, then I need to know what I’m dealing with here.”

  Nick’s jaw tightens. Maybe I’m asking too much, but I don’t think so.

  “The box is full of albums. Her high school yearbook, that sort of stuff,” I say in the hope that he’s clueless about the contents. “Nick…do you remember the Dixie Deb Ball?”

  He seems relieved that I’ve dropped the topic of Shannon. “Sure.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “You were a deb, as I recall.”

  “You remember our dance?”

  He half frowns, half smiles, like he doesn’t remember but wishes he did. “We danced together?”

  “Yeah. I stepped on your foot.”

  “Ouch.” Nick winces playfully, then winks at me. “Guess what? You’re forgiven.”

  He goes on to talk about painting the living room, but I don’t say anything, and after a while he lets out a big sigh. He comes over to my side of the table and drops to his knees in front of me. “Emma,” he says, reaching out to clasp my hands. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I married Shannon because I was in love with her. I was happy and I thought she was happy. But she wasn’t. She hated being a small-town cop’s wife. She hated living in a rented duplex with crappy air-conditioning. I kept hoping she’d wait it out, till I got more seniority, better pay, but she didn’t. She fucked around with Ed because he was a better life for her. End of story.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

  Nick stands up and I melt into his arms and into the kind of hug I’ve wanted to give him for what seems like forever.

  “The good thing is, I have you now, and you’re nothing like Shannon.”

  The vehemence in his voice is startling.

  Something tells me this is the most honest thing Nick has ever said to me.

  I glance at the slip of paper in my hand. I got Shannon and Ed’s address from the phone book. They live five miles outside of Catfish Cove, right on the Gulf. The house looks like most new beach construction. Very chic and Mediterranean.

  Ed answers the door. He looks surprised to see me.

  “Hi, Ed. Is Shannon home? I’ve got this box that belongs to her.”
>
  It is now my turn to be surprised because Ed does something unexpected. He invites me inside. I really thought he’d just take the box and that would be that. He offers me some water and I take it. Partly because I’m thirsty, but mostly because it gives me something to do instead of fidgeting. I’ll be honest, I’m a little nervous here.

  After about five minutes Shannon comes down the stairs. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt and for some reason doesn’t look as hugely pregnant as the last time I saw her. She must notice that I’m staring at her stomach, because she smiles wearily and says, “I’ve dropped. The doctor says it should be any day now.” She’s not wearing any makeup and her face looks puffy. Her long blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail and there is an innocent girlishness about her I find unnerving.

  I hand her the box. It takes her a full minute to realize what I’ve just given her. “Oh my God. Babe!” she says to Ed. “Look!”

  Ed comes rushing to Shannon’s side like an eager puppy. There is something here between them that I missed at cow-chip bingo. They seem more like a young couple in love than the horny evil schemers who ruined Nick’s life.

  “I’ve searched everywhere for this box,” she says. “And…and Nick has had this all along?”

  “He had no idea. It was mixed up with a bunch of his stuff.”

  She and Ed exchange a look. “Thank you for bringing it to me.” And then Shannon does something truly horrific. She gives me a great big hug, and proceeds to tell me all about her marriage to Nick.

  After my two-hour visit (yes, you read that correctly) with Shannon and Ed, I swing by Carpe Diem. Mama J is closing up shop. I really did want to spend some time at the bookstore today but I couldn’t abandon Shannon in the middle of her emotional meltdown. I’m supposed to meet Nick and his family at seven p.m. at Louie’s Restaurant, so I have an hour to kill.

  “Mama J, I need some advice.”

  “Let’s take a trip to the park.”

  At the word park Walt turns into a maniac. Mama J settles him down long enough to clip on his leash. It rained earlier this afternoon, so it’s not as hot as usual. We stroll through downtown with Walt pulling Mama J along by his leash, anxious to reach our destination. On the walk over, I tell her about the box and about Nick’s inscription in Shannon’s yearbook.

  “It’s a high school yearbook and they were sweethearts. What did you think Nick would write?”

  “I’m just afraid that he’ll never get over her.” This is the first time I’ve voiced this thought out loud. It feels good to get it off my chest.

  “Maybe he won’t.”

  I stop walking. “What?”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the people we love. Even if they’ve betrayed us, or we think they have.”

  I hustle to catch up to her. “Do you think Nick is capable of falling in love again? Even if he’s still harboring feelings for Shannon?”

  Now it’s Mama J’s turn to stop in her tracks, which makes Walt a little crazy. He paces in a circle around us, tangling us both in his leash. “I don’t know. The point is, are you in love with him?” She studies my face and seems to come to some sort of conclusion. She shakes her head sadly. “I told Sheila not to get her hopes up.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that your mom is one step away from booking the reception hall.”

  I knew Mom liked Nick, but knowing that she’s practically got us engaged worries me. “I hope you’ve tried to bring her back to reality.”

  “So you don’t think Nick is the one?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

  We untangle ourselves from Walt’s leash and reach the park. Saturdays from six to seven p.m. they rope off a grassy section in the middle of the square and you can let your dog run free. It’s called Saturday Evening Dog Park and it’s Walt’s favorite thing in the whole wide world. Today there are two Labs, a Chihuahua, and a mutt of questionable heritage. Walt is in heaven. We find a bench where we can keep an eye on him and resume our little mother-daughter talk.

  I find myself telling Mama J everything that Shannon laid on me. How Nick was working all the time and how she was lonely and found herself attracted to Ed, blah, blah, blah. I don’t know what she hoped to accomplish by telling me all this. Absolution? I’m not the injured party, so I don’t think so. The one thing I did get out of this afternoon’s faux therapy session is that I truly believe Shannon and Ed love each other. It doesn’t excuse what they did to Nick, but there it is. I also now feel the added burden that I’ve been fraternizing with the enemy. If Nick knew what went down, he’d be upset or angry or possibly both, so this is something else I’m going to have to refrain from talking over with him.

  I also tell Mama J all about Ben.

  “So that’s why you were crying,” she says, remembering that day not so long ago when I showed up on the kitchen doorstep in tears. “I told Sheila those were man tears.” Mama J studies my face again. “Is this Ben the one?”

  “I thought so…but no. He has this ex-fiancée and…no,” I say again with more conviction. “Ben isn’t the guy for me.” At least, I’m pretty sure he’s not.

  She takes my hand. “Emma, you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it all out.”

  “How? How do you know when you find the right one?” I know I sound like a little girl but I really need Mama J’s advice.

  Mama J gives me one of those wise smiles that mothers have probably been giving their daughters for centuries. “All I know is that when you love someone, and I mean really love someone, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them. Including moving out to the middle of nowhere because that’s where they think they need to be. And if that’s what makes them happy, then it makes you happy.”

  My breath hitches. Mama J is talking about herself, of course. I know when she and Mom got together Mama J tried to persuade Mom to move somewhere “more civilized.” Somewhere where being themselves wouldn’t be a daily struggle. I know this because I overheard them talking when they thought I was asleep. At the time I didn’t understand the conversation. It wasn’t until a few years later that I got it.

  “There’s no place that’s completely easy, Jen,” I remember Mom saying.

  “Hell, Sheila, Catfish Cove, Florida? Really? You can practice medicine anywhere. Think of Emma.”

  “I am thinking of her. This is her home. It’s my home. It’s where my daddy practiced medicine and where I want to practice medicine. These people…they really aren’t so bad. Change doesn’t come easy, but it doesn’t come at all if you don’t try.”

  I think about that conversation and about what Mama J just said, about how we hold on to the people we love even if that love has hurt us. Although Shannon didn’t outright accuse Nick of withholding the box from her, she didn’t have to. I remember his reaction when I found it. He was more annoyed than surprised. I feel disloyal thinking it, but a part of me wonders if Nick hasn’t known about that box all along. Maybe holding on to the box has been his revenge against Shannon. Or maybe it has nothing to do with revenge. Maybe holding on to the box was Nick’s only way of holding on to her.

  Either way the whole thing makes me want to cry.

  We spend the hour watching Walt, and discussing poetry, just like we did when I worked back at the store. As difficult as those teenage years were, they were also some of the happiest times of my life.

  At exactly five minutes to seven I stand and brush off my skirt, ready to head to Louie’s and “meet” the Alfonso clan. I hope Nick’s mama’s X-ray eyes are off-kilter tonight, because I’m afraid this weekend has proved one thing to me. My soul is now officially confused.

  chapter twenty-three

  This promises to be a huge week for me. In exactly two days I’ll be going down to Naples to meet Trip. I’ve expended so much energy on this interview that I feel like it’s taken over my life. I honestly can’t wait till the whole thing is over. Then Saturday is Jackie’s housewarming party. I tri
ed on my bathing suit yesterday and I’ve concluded that the French are not all they are cracked up to be. I am feeling very American right now, which means I’m starving myself in order to fit into the bathing suit that at the beginning of summer looked pretty decent on me. Why does Jackie’s party have to involve water?

  For the first time ever I consciously decide to skip the Krispy Kreme donuts. The temptation to bite into one would just be too much.

  Lisa and Jackie look ready to kill when they see me come in the door to the conference room empty-handed. Richard arrives a couple of minutes later and plops a box of Krispy Kremes onto the table.

  “Never fear, Richard is here with the backup dozen.” He looks at me and shakes his head. “I had a strong feeling you’d let us down again.”

  “Please put those at the other end of the table,” I say.

  Lisa grabs a donut, and even Jackie, who hasn’t eaten a donut on the past two Mondays, gingerly pulls one out of the box.

  “Go ahead, Emma, they won’t bite,” Richard says.

  “No thanks, I have a bathing suit to fit into this weekend.” I glare at Jackie. This is all her fault. Why couldn’t she have a housewarming party inside the house we are supposed to be ogling?

  “The cop giving you a hard time about your weight?” asks Richard. “Personally, I like a little junk in the trunk.” He then pretends to give my butt a very thorough examination.

  “Stop,” I say.

  “You won’t be saying that once I actually start.”

  Lisa giggles and Richard rewards her with a smile. I confess, I almost giggled myself. The lack of food must be skewing my sense of humor.

  “Don’t believe him, Emma. All men like their women to be fit,” says Jackie.

  I stare at the donuts and sigh.