By Any Other Name

by Theresa Jenner Garrido

  “What? Are you serious? Mom, I only have one bed,” I said in alarm.

  “If they’re going to be with us for any real length of time, we’ll buy twin beds and put your double bed in the attic. Okay?” Mom smiled at me in that supercilious way she has sometimes.

  “Yeah, okay, fine…I guess, since I don’t have much choice.”

  “Oh, Kate. Put yourself in her shoes—Rose’s, I mean.”

  I winced. “Yeah, I know. I know you’re right, Mom. Really. It’s just, well, how are we going to stand having the way she smells in our home? And Jimmy-John always has a runny nose and apparently has never seen a Kleenex before. It makes me sick just thinking about his mucus all over our couch or something. I mean, it was bad enough having them here those two days working on the project. Gosh, after they left, I sprayed the whole downstairs with that fabric spray.”

  “Honey, I agree. I admit I was taken aback by the way she smelled. But, Kate, good hygiene is something that can be learned. You saw what your shampooing did for her hair. After a nice bubble bath and-and a few pointers on managing that time of the month, she’ll be just fine. It’ll be our little project. Okay? With me in this?”

  Jeez. Mom and her projects.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I’m willing to do this. It’s just…well, I dread going to school, and the news leaking out. Can’t you understand why I think my life is ruined—as far as high school is concerned, anyway?”

  Mom didn’t say anything. She just put her arms around me and gave me a quick hug. Then she patted my back and shooed me upstairs. Dad just sat there grinning.

  Leaving my parents to continue their discussion of what to do with the Coughlins, I flew to my room. Pausing in the doorway, I let my eyes take in the scene before me. My double bed with the handmade quilt; my curtains that matched the quilt; my collection of bears, the two posters of deserted beaches in exotic places—everything that meant something to me—was to be shared with Rose Coughlin. Rose Coughlin. Talk about Murphy’s Law or Fate or—damn.

  Was God doing this to me on purpose? I mean, was He trying to teach me a lesson or something? I didn’t know what to think. At the moment I wasn’t even too sure I even liked God all that much. I didn’t want to think any more. It hurt to think. Right now, it hurt just being me.

  I flopped on the edge of the bed and stared at nothing in particular, letting my mind empty itself so I wouldn’t feel anything. My whole world had turned upside down, and every day something unexpected happened to make sure it stayed that way. Having Rose actually living in my house was so far removed from what was conceivable that I could only sit and shake my head in disbelief. The whole idea was beyond my wildest nightmare. I dreaded to hear what my dear ex-friends would say about this. Oh, yeah. They were going to have a shark feast with this piece of news.

  Falling back against my pillow, I stared up at the ceiling and didn’t stop the tears trickling down my cheeks. I felt like throwing something but had enough presence of mind to know that anything I threw would be gone forever and gain me nothing. But I still felt the urge. If only I could scream, but that would bring my parents down on me, and I didn’t need that either. No, there was nothing I could do to relieve this roiling tension inside me. Nothing. I had to grin and bear it, as Gramps would say.

  Good ol’ sensible Kate. Always behaving herself. Well, good ol’ Kate had just lost everything she’d worked so hard to gain. Good ol’ Kate now faced three and a half years of total misery. No friends, no dates to dances or football games, no nothing but loneliness and isolation. No calling up friends on the phone and giggling over boys or college or teachers or driver’s licenses or anything.

  I buried my face in my pillow and cried my eyes out.

  * * * *

  Social services—in the form of one plump middle-aged lady with closely cropped gray hair—brought Rose and Jimmy-John over at 7:36 that evening. I was up in my room but heard the doorbell ring and ran to the head of the stairs to see. My parents answered the door, and greeted the Coughlins like they were long lost cousins or something. The social worker, whose name was Anita Fellows, followed them into the house and sat in the living room with Mom, Dad, and the Coughlins.

  I knew I should go down but was reluctant. What would I say? Hi, Rose, sorry to hear about your dad. Or Hi, Rose, too bad your dad was a scumbag and robbed a store and got himself shot. No, there was nothing I could say that would sound anywhere near what was considered “nice”, but I knew I had to say something. With a sigh, taking one step at a time, I descended the stairs, but paused at the bottom. Mom looked up and motioned for me to come into the living room. And be quick about it.

  “Ms. Fellows, this is our daughter, Kate,” Mom introduced. Her bright blue eyes were wide, and she was smiling in that obnoxiously insipid way she does when she’s trying to be nice but doesn’t especially feel like it. “Kate, honey, why don’t you take Rose and Jimmy-John up to their room and help them unpack,” she practically warbled.

  I nodded and led the way upstairs. I couldn’t help but notice that Rose carried one small suitcase, battered beyond belief. Even the homeless wouldn’t take it, I thought. Beyond belief that it held together without falling into a zillion pieces. It would’ve been funny if the whole thing wasn’t so gross and obscene.

  My head swam with about a dozen confusing thoughts as I showed them the guestroom. Their expressions didn’t change even though the room was far more luxurious than what they were used to at home. I watched Rose unpack their meager belongings and bit my tongue to keep from saying what was on my mind. Their stuff was deplorable. Not much in the case, really. Just some dingy underwear and a change of clothes for each. No toiletry articles or anything like that. No toothbrushes or combs or shampoos or scented lotion or nail file or any of the junk I packed whenever I went visiting. I swallowed the lump in my throat, for like the umpteenth time.

  “If you, uh, need something just tell me or my mom.” Awkward but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Rose nodded, not meeting my eyes, of course. Jimmy-John seemed to be in a trance. He hung onto Rose’s disgusting sweater and sniffed. His runny nose made me sick to look at so I didn’t look at him. I did have enough presence of mind to offer to take her sweater and put it somewhere—not our main closet, heaven forbid—but this time Rose refused to relinquish it as if it were somehow necessary in order to breathe.

  I knew where Mom kept extra toothbrushes and other miscellaneous toiletry stuff so I went to the hall cupboard and rummaged around for two toothbrushes, some toothpaste, and two little plastic combs. I handed them to Rose and told her where she could put them in the bathroom. Rose stared at the insignificant items and a blush reddened her pale cheeks.

  I figured she was embarrassed—I would be—so I stammered like an idiot, “Um…we had extra, so, uh, it’s no big deal.”

  “Thank you,” Rose whispered.

  With growing frustration mixed, and a healthy dose of anger, I took the bull by the horns to get it over with. “Rose…I know you don’t want to be here, and I don’t blame you. I’m not too keen on the setup, either, but that’s out of our hands, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I’m really sorry about your dad. I’m sure your mom will be okay. Uh, my dad knows a lot of really good attorneys who, uh, do th-that sort of thing.” I sounded lame even to myself.

  Rose only nodded. Jimmy-John, however, began to whimper. Rose scooped him up and sat on the edge of the bed to rock him back and forth. She made soft murmuring sounds, and soon he closed his eyes and stuck a thumb into his mouth. Embarrassed, I backed into the hall and closed the door. I didn’t know how to handle such abject misery and didn’t have a clue what to say.

  I dashed downstairs to put as much distance between us as possible.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The next morning dawned overcast, the sky resembling Gram’s cotton batting, but it hadn’t snowed. When I got up enough nerve to get out of my nice warm bed, groggy and kind of stiff, it was almost 9:00. Breakfast at
our house on the weekend was usually at 8:30 so I dressed and went downstairs, almost afraid of what I’d find. Just as I feared, in the kitchen—my kitchen—Mom and Dad, Rose and Jimmy-John sat as cozy as can be, eating breakfast. I was overcome with an absurd embarrassment and had to lower my eyes in an awful imitation of Rose. Can you imagine anything more gross? I felt like a stranger in my own kitchen. Mom noticed.

  “Kate. You’re up. Good. I was just saying to Rose how much fun it would be to go to the mall today and do some shopping. How’s that sound to you?”

  “The mall?”

  “Yes.” Mom was using her ‘sunshine’ voice. “Rose didn’t bring much with her, and since they’re having some wonderful sales going on right now, I thought it would be the perfect time. Don’t you? We’ll have a girls’ day out and let the men fend for themselves.” She giggled like a silly teenager. I had to bite my lip to keep from saying something sarcastic. Sometimes Mom was too childish.

  “Yeah, you gals go ahead. We fellows will be just fine. Jimmy-John and I are headed down to the big city,” Dad grinned over his coffee. “We plan to spend a cold, blustery winter day at the zoo. What d’ya think about that? Cool, huh?”

  I made a face at his poor attempt at humor. “Oh, sure. And you think you’ll be able to see any animals at this time of year?”

  “Well, we’re going to give it the ol’ college try, aren’t we buddy?” He grinned again and reached out to ruffle Jimmy-John’s hair, which, by the way, had been thoroughly scrubbed by Mom the night before.

  “So, does the mall sound like fun?” Mom pressed, her bright blue eyes boring into mine as if to say be nice—or else.

  I took a mincing pose. “Oh, for sure. You know I love the mall. Is there a new outfit in the bargain for me, too?”

  “Well, I don’t see why not.” Mom smiled with obvious relief.

  “Oh, goodie. I can’t wait.” My sarcasm was ignored.

  Twenty minutes after ten the three of us stood at the main entrance to the mall, ready to brace the milling crowd, preparing to search frantically and a little savagely for January bargains. One glance at Rose showed her eyes wide open as she gaped at the hoards of people bustling in their frenzied desire to spend money. I wondered whether Rose had ever been to the mall before. It inconceivable that a fifteen year-old girl—in this town, practically in St. Louis’s backyard—had never been to a mall. Yet, here she was, eyes as big as saucers, lips parted, staring like she’d never seen a place like this before. Wonderful. Simply marvelous. Jeez. Please wake me when it’s over.

  Mom led the way, heading for one of the leading boutiques for teens. We walked in and I immediately spied an outfit I liked and held it up for Mom to see. With a happy nod she told me to try it on, so I grabbed my size and rushed into the nearest dressing room. I undressed, slipped it on, spent several minutes gazing at myself from every angle in the long mirror then decided it wasn’t quite right.

  I returned the outfit to its rack, my eyes sweeping the store for my mother and Rose. They were nowhere to be seen. Figuring that they’d stepped out into the mall proper, I headed for the front of the store. Halfway there I heard Mom’s voice calling, “Kate. Katie, I’m over here, hon.” Mom waved to me like an idiot from the fitting rooms.

  Sucking in a breath, I walked toward her, trying my best to appear relaxed and unfazed. “Oh, hi, Mom. Didn’t see you when I came out. Find any good bargains?” I raked the place for Rose.

  “Oh, my, yes. Rose found some darling things. A blue and white knit dress with all these adorable tucks and appliqués, a pair of wool slacks that are the dreamiest mauve; oh, and this darling green ensemble that’s perfect for her coloring. She’s trying them on right now,” Mom gushed. “Did you like the outfit you tried on, hon?”

  “No.” I realized my tone sounded churlish so softened it. “Uh, I mean, no, no it wasn’t right. Too blah. I’m-I’m into something a little more chic. You know. It was so-so but I decided I didn’t want something just mediocre.”

  Just then, Rose opened the dressing room door, peered around, then stepped out. She had on a pair of green slacks with a sweater striped in green and white. It was stunning against the chestnut gleam of her hair. I stared like a fool. Rose did not look like the Rose I knew. If she went to school looking like that, I could only imagine what the others would say. They’d be downright speechless. Nancy would die on the spot.

  “Oh, Rose, it’s too, too perfect,” Mom gushed again. “We’ll get this one for sure. Now, hurry and put on the blue outfit and let’s see what it looks like.”

  Outfit after outfit, Rose went in and out of the dressing room. Each new one caused my mother to shriek in delight. Nothing for me to do but lean against a counter displaying lacy bras and panties, and wait. I forced myself to stay calm and disinterested but by the second outfit, I was wrestling with jealousy. Seeing the old Rose transformed into a new Rose—someone I didn’t even recognize—was beyond weird. She was actually pretty. Impossible, but true. After seeing the transformation each new outfit made in her, my jealousy shrunk before its talons had really taken hold. By the fourth outfit, even I smiled with approval, although not as ecstatic as my simpering mother.

  Two and a half hours later, we were laden down with shopping bags stuffed with clothes: three complete dressy outfits, assorted T-shirts, jeans, underwear, a winter coat, two pairs of shoes—all for Rose—and even a few things for Jimmy-John, too. So, tired but satisfied we—and by “we” I meant Mom and Rose, with me trailing behind—made our way to the food court where Mom flopped down at the nearest vacant table and gave a tepid wave with her hand.

  “You girls get something. Bring me a large Coke—diet—and a chicken salad sandwich. That’s all. Get whatever you want. I’m beat.”

  Leaving Mom with the bags, we went for the food. I got Mom’s order first then Rose and I went back for ours.

  “What do you want?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “I-I don’t know,” Rose whispered.

  “Well, I’m having a cheeseburger, curly fires, and a Coke. You have to decide what you want soon because we haven’t got all day.”

  “Okay then I-I…I guess, I’ll have what you’re having.”

  Rose’s hands clutched together and trembled. A strange feeling washed over me. I even started feeling a little shaky myself. It occurred to me that I’d no idea what Rose’s life had been like. None whatsoever. And all these years I’d judged her for her poor hygiene and insipid manners and everything else. I was the biggest idiot. This realization filled me with a new resolve. Maybe Mom’s idea of making Rose our little project wasn’t such a bad one. In fact, it could prove to be more than a little interesting.

  It gave me a shivery thrill just to think about how much fun it could be rubbing the other girls’ faces in it. I pictured it now. ‘Hey, guys. I want you to meet my new friend, Rose Coughlin. She’s joining chorus and plans to audition for the spring play. Oh! And she’s joining art club. As you know, she is quite an accomplished artist, and plans to major in art in college—probably on a full scholarship.’ Blah, blah, blah.

  Breaking from my reverie, I looked at her and grinned. “Great. I think that’s a good choice. Let’s place our orders.”

  Three minutes later, we carried our trays laden with steaming food back to the table. Mom, already finished with her sandwich, smiled at us.

  “Whew. I’m sure tired. Shopping is hard work, don’t you think, Rose?” Mom leaned back in her chair and sighed. “But, oh, it’s so much fun when you are this successful. I think we did a great job, don’t you? The sales were incredible, and you’re such a perfect size. We had scads and scads to choose from. I’ve never been so lucky, myself. Usually my size has disappeared, and I have nothing but odds and ends to pick from. I can’t wait to show John what we got.” Mom could’ve gone on and on, she was so giddy, but I cleared my throat and reached for my burger. That diverted her attention back to Rose. “Hungry?”

  Rose nodded and unwrapped her cheeseburger.
I watched as she took a small bite then closed her eyes. That bite was quickly followed by another and another and in the time I had eaten only half of my sandwich, Rose finished hers. She consumed the entire meal as though it’d disappear if she didn’t hurry. Again, I felt that wave of self-deprecation wash over me. I had a lot to learn about life, about people, and, I hate to admit it, about myself. It embarrassed me to think that I’d been such a loathsome pig. I was beginning to understand what my parents meant when they told me to “grow up and count my blessings.”

  By 4:00 we were back at the house. Mom was on another tangent, saying how glad she was that we’d made it home before the storm because the sky had the look of snow—on and on, ad nauseam. She called Dad’s cell phone and he picked up. “Hey, what’s up?” I could hear Dad’s voice even a yard away. He sounded cheerfully hyper.

  Mom put him on speaker. “Hi, hon, are you guys having a good time?”

  “Believe it or not we are,” Dad’s booming voice replied. “We were lucky enough to see some animals not hiding away in their dens, and the reptile house had Jimmy-John chattering like the dickens. We’re eating ice cream cones as we speak. They’re a tad on the cold side but, what the hey, we’re enjoying them. Yeah, I’d say we’ve had our share of fun. How ’bout you gals?”

  “We found loads and loads of delightful new things for Rose. I won’t go on about it now. I’ll wait ’til you get home and tell you all about it then. I was just calling in hopes of catching you in time to stop at the Wal-Mart to pick up a few warm things for Jimmy-John. I got him some things suitable for church but he needs more underwear and jeans and shirts—that sort of thing—and I thought Wal-Mart would be perfect. I wanted to get more for him at the mall but frankly we just ran out of time and energy. Right now I’m concerned about the weather. It really looks like more snow and the poor child needs warmer clothing.”