Family Storms

  “Sideliner? What’s that?”

  “Someone who sits on the sidelines, silly,” she said. “She worries about breaking a fingernail even more than I do.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh with her, even though it felt wrong to make fun of Mrs. March. Kiera was so lighthearted and happy, I didn’t want to ruin her mood. I had gone to sleep wondering if everything she had said and claimed she wanted was just words that would drift away with all of the broken promises I had heard in my life, but this morning, that didn’t seem to be happening.

  I started to rise, and she went to the closet.

  “Alena had a very cute tennis outfit that should fit you,” she said, and began to look for it. While she did, I went to the bathroom and prepared to get dressed. She was waiting with the outfit when I came out, and she stood there watching me try it on.

  “You have a pretty good figure for your age,” she said. “With the right clothes and makeup, no one would say you were only fourteen. I didn’t have boobs and a rear end like that until I was sixteen.”

  Her comments brought unexpected heat to my face. I caught my image in the closet wall mirror and saw that my cheeks were crimson. It wasn’t that I never thought of myself as becoming a woman. I used to worry about it when Mama and I were living in the streets, in fact, because I had not gotten my first period. I expected that our poor diet would have an impact on my development, perhaps stunting me. When my first period came, I was excited and told Mama. She had looked at me and started to cry.

  “I can’t be happy for you,” she had said. “Not now.”

  But I wanted to be happy for myself. I’ll be all right after all, I thought. Mama had once had a beautiful figure, and when I looked at myself from time to time, I dared to think I might get to look just like her, like she was before this had all happened to us.

  Kiera laughed at the way I blushed. “You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?”

  “No,” I said, but not very convincingly. “Don’t you ever think of yourself as being sexy?”

  “Not really.”

  “I bet you never really had a boyfriend, did you?”

  “Not the way you mean,” I admitted.

  She sat on my bed and looked at me. “The way I mean? What other way is there?” She smiled. “One of the first things I wondered about you was what happened to you living on the street. I mean, what happened to you sexually.”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “My mother and I were rarely, if ever, separated, day or night.”

  She shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been so terrible if you had some experiences, but on the street, you could pick up some diseases, I’m sure.”

  “I was only thirteen when we went on the street.”

  “I lost my virginity at fourteen,” she replied casually, and then leaped to her feet. “We’ll talk about all this later. Let’s get to breakfast. There’s a lot to do before they get here.”

  I followed her down to breakfast. Everyone was surprised to see Kiera up so early, but it was the look on Mrs. Duval’s face that nearly made me laugh. Not only was it because both Kiera and I were wearing tennis outfits, but also because there was a new tone of excitement and friendliness between us. Mrs. Duval’s eyebrows rose, and she hurried back to the kitchen to say something to Mrs. Caro, who found little ways to observe us at breakfast, too.

  Afterward, Kiera took me out to the tennis court, and with more patience and expertise than I ever imagined she would have, she began to teach me the fundamentals. We were out there for nearly two hours before we took a break to have something cold to drink. I didn’t know if she was deliberately hitting the ball softly back to me the whole time or if that was as good as she was, but even with my limp, I found I could do decently for someone playing for the first time. She continually complimented me.

  “I knew you could do this,” she said. “In fact, you’re doing a lot better than I did when I picked up a racket. My father was so frustrated, I thought he would give up on me. I guess he did. He hired professionals.”

  We sat at the pool cabana and sipped Mrs. Caro’s famous homemade lemonade. Despite how well we were doing together, I remained on the lookout for some sign, some remark, something that would reveal that Kiera was just being nice to me to please her parents. Nothing like that occurred. In fact, she seemed even more interested in our being closer, and she was more willing to be honest with me than she had been the night before.

  “I watched you all during these first months at school,” she confessed. “I saw how badly your classmates were treating you, especially those snobby girls. In the beginning, as you know, I was hoping that would make you so unhappy that you’d want to leave no matter what my mother promised you.” She laughed. “I was always complaining about you to my friends.”

  “How much did you tell them about me?”

  “Not much. Only one of my friends knows the truth about what happened, and that’s Deidre, who was in the car. The rest of my friends couldn’t understand my attitude toward you. How could I hate my cousin so much? What was the big deal about her living in my house? A dozen more cousins could move in, and no one would notice in my house, they would say. I couldn’t explain anything to them, so I didn’t try. They’re my friends, but they think I’m a bitch anyway. Half of them, if not all of them, are as well. You’ve heard of a coven of witches? Well, my girlfriends and I are a coven of bitches.”

  She laughed. Her being unconcerned about what other people, especially adults, thought of her intrigued me. Did she have that self-confidence only because her father was so rich? Not constantly worrying about the impression you were making or if people were looking at you with pity and disgust was very attractive to someone like me. No matter how Mama and I looked as if we were indifferent when we were on the streets, I know I was never anything but ashamed.

  “What are you going to tell your friends about me and you now?”

  “Simple. I had a change of heart. They know I’m capable of that always, and besides, I don’t have to explain myself to them. They’re lucky I let them be my friends.”

  She smiled and leaned toward me. “I can see that shocks you. You’ve got to develop an attitude, Sasha, especially with those snobs in your class. Tell yourself you’re better than they are and you will be,” she declared. She sat back. I supposed she thought she was acting like a big sister now, giving me worldly advice.

  “Which of your friends are coming over?”

  “Deidre, who you know was in the car with me that night, is coming over today. So is Margot. I’m the closest with Deidre. Her father’s a business attorney and does lots of business with my father, so she and her family were always trusted. Margot is my next-best girlfriend, but I don’t confide in her as much. And of course, none of the boys knows anything, so don’t worry. Boyd Lewis and Ricky Burns are coming with Deidre and Margot. You’ve seen them here before,” she said, and added, “completely.”

  She laughed, and I knew she was referring to their swimming nude.

  “Is one of them your boyfriend?”

  “Boyfriend? Not the way you’re asking. We don’t think of ourselves as with one or the other. In fact, last year, we all went to the prom as a group.”

  “You don’t like one more than the others?”

  “I like playing the field and so do they. Forget that Romeo and Juliet stuff, Sasha. It’s only in the movies, and it gets boring. There’s nothing as dull to me as going steady. Don’t you know what we all are? We’re friends with benefits. Ever hear of that?”

  I shook my head, and she laughed.

  “Friends with benefits have sex but don’t have romantic relationships.” Before I could ask anything else, she leaped to her feet and cried, “Here they come!”

  A black Mercedes convertible with its top down was rushing up the drive. We could hear the girls screaming and laughing as the tires squealed.

  “Boyd is such an idiot,” Kiera said, but she said it as if being an idiot was great. She shouted and waved, and the
y got out and started in our direction. They were all carrying small bags and tennis rackets. The girls were in tennis outfits as cute as Kiera’s, and the boys, whom I recognized as the taller two of the three who had been there that afternoon, were in short white shorts, tank tops, and white caps. Despite what I thought would happen and even what she seemed to have anticipated, none of them appeared surprised to see me there.

  “Everybody knows Sasha, right?” Kiera said.

  “Right. Hi, Sasha,” Boyd said. He was as blond as a blond could be, I thought. He wore his hair long, but it was neatly styled. Like most of the boys in the school, he had a light tan, but even his tan couldn’t hide the freckles that randomly ran over his forehead and down his temples.

  “She’s a tennis player?” Ricky asked. He had dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. A little taller with wider shoulders than Boyd, Ricky looked more athletic, and I thought he was better-looking.

  “What makes you think you are?” Boyd asked him before Kiera could respond. The girls laughed.

  I had met Deidre before at the house when she had come to watch a movie with Kiera, and I had seen Margot with Kiera often at school. She was much shorter and over-weight. From the way I saw her following Kiera around, she looked content to be in her shadow.

  “Sasha is just learning,” Kiera said. “Don’t make a big thing of it,” she added in a threatening tone.

  “Who here isn’t just learning?” Margot quipped. She smiled at the boys. “About everything.” They all laughed, and she looked quickly to Kiera to be sure she had said something Kiera would appreciate.

  “Whoever sits out takes Sasha on the other court and practices with her. Make sure she has the right form,” Kiera said.

  “She looks like her form’s all right to me,” Boyd said.

  “Will you shut up and just do what I say? Didn’t I tell you he was an idiot?” Kiera asked me as we headed for the tennis court. Everyone laughed. “Before we’re finished, you can come in for me and get some experience.”

  “I can’t be any good yet.”

  “Breaking news,” Ricky said, turning back to me as we walked. “None of these girls is.”

  That started a playful argument and some challenges. Deidre was the one who sat out the first set, so she and I went to the second court. Before we did anything, she paused, looked at the others, and then leaned toward me.

  “Hey,” she said. She had her hair cut short, in almost a pageboy style.

  I hadn’t noticed it before, but she had a dimple in her left cheek that flashed in and out when she spoke and smiled. “You’re doing a very nice thing for Kiera. I think it’s really big of you.”

  I had forgotten for the moment that she was the one who knew everything. From the way she spoke, I assumed that Kiera had told her about her therapy, too, and even what she would ask of me. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.

  “Let’s hit a few balls easy,” she said. “Kiera showed you how to hold the racket and swing so you don’t develop tennis elbow?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s the most important thing. I’ll keep an eye on it for you.”

  She went to the other side, and we began. Just like Kiera, she hit the ball softly right to me, which made me look better than I was, I’m sure. Before she changed with Margot, she showed me how to hit backhand and practiced it with me. Margot was just as considerate and nice. I couldn’t help wondering if they were really this way or if they were afraid of Kiera, who kept an eye on us even while she played.

  As she had promised, Kiera asked me to step in for her. “Just for a few minutes,” she told me.

  I was reluctant, but both of the boys insisted, too, and when I did take Kiera’s place, I didn’t do so badly. At least, that was what they all told me.

  The whole time, I felt strange about how I was reacting to being with Kiera and her friends. I would never say I wasn’t having a good time—a very good time, in fact—but the more fun it seemed, the more guilty I felt. They all continued to be very nice to me, and once, when Boyd made a slightly sarcastic remark about my being inoculated to live in the same house as Kiera lived in, she pounced on him so hard he seemed to wither under her words. I felt sorry for him and told him it was all right. I knew he was just joking.

  Afterward, our lunch was brought out for us just as it had been when I saw them at the pool that first day. Rosie brought a tray of hamburgers, salads, and chips. I waited to see if one of the boys or even one of the girls would pour some whiskey into our drinks, but this time no one did. We sat at the tables, and I listened to them gossip about other kids in their classes. Even though I had nothing to say, I felt that they were including me. Every once in a while, one of them would ask if I knew this one or that one. Of course, I knew no one. Margot’s comment each time was, “You’re lucky. Isn’t she, Kiera?”

  “We’re all lucky,” Kiera said, and gave me a look to indicate that we shared some deep secret. I saw that Margot was actually jealous.

  Afterward, we all did go swimming. Kiera, Margot, Deidre, and I went into the house so Kiera and I could get our suits. The boys changed in the cabana. I was nervous about it, of course, expecting a replay of what I had witnessed before, but everyone seemed different, a lot more restrained. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was only for my sake. The boys fooled around, teased, and splashed, but no one did any nude swimming and when the music came on, they danced and invited me to join them. I refused, but Boyd insisted, and then he and Ricky pulled me onto the dance floor, and both danced with me, one turning me toward him after the other had danced with me a few minutes. I was very self-conscious about my movements, but no one seemed to notice or care. I couldn’t even recall when I had danced last, but I was sure it had been in our apartment, when Mama and I had still been living in an apartment.

  Later, when we were all pretty much exhausted, we sprawled on chaise longues and sipped lemonade. The afternoon sun was falling below a row of trees to the west, and the cool air was refreshing. I had to admit to myself that I hadn’t felt this content since I had arrived there. Everyone was so quiet that I thought they had fallen asleep.

  Then Boyd spoke up. “Hey, what are our plans for tonight? I think we should go to this new, fabulous pizza joint on Venice Beach that Julian was talking about yesterday,” he added before anyone could reply. “Afterward, we could do the boardwalk and gape at the freaks. What do you say?”

  Kiera turned to me sharply. “I’m not in the mood for Venice Beach,” she said, still looking at me. “Let’s do West-wood.”

  “Boring,” Boyd sang.

  “We’ll buy you a yo-yo,” Kiera said, and the girls laughed. “Besides, I thought we all wanted to see the new Belly Boys movie.”

  “You’ll see that?” Boyd asked, excited.

  “What do you say, Sasha?” she asked me. “Want to see the Belly Boys movie?”

  “I don’t know anything about it,” I said.

  “Perfect reason to go,” Kiera said. “We’ll meet you guys at the Big Burger. I want some shoestring french fries.”

  She rose, which the others took as the signal that the day at the March mansion had ended. Ricky screamed that he didn’t want to leave. Boyd pulled him to his feet, and then everyone walked together to the front of the mansion, where Boyd had parked. Before they got into Boyd’s car, they all kissed Kiera, and then, to my surprise, they kissed me, too. We watched them drive off.

  “I have completely crazy friends,” Kiera said. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. What do you think?”

  I nodded. Who was I to challenge her, anyway? I could barely remember the names of any classmates I had once considered friends. As Mama might have said, beggars can’t be choosers.

  And I was still feeling like a beggar.

  I had no way of knowing, but it wouldn’t be long before that feeling would change.

  21

  Night Out

  Mrs. Duval looked nervous about my spending the day with Kiera. When Kiera told
her we were going out for dinner and a movie, she wanted to know if Mrs. March was aware of it.

  “I spoke to her this afternoon, and she didn’t say anything about your taking Sasha anywhere,” Mrs. Duval said.

  Kiera groaned. “I’ll call my mother and have her speak to you again, Mrs. Duval. Chill out.”

  To my surprise, Mrs. March did not call Mrs. Duval after Kiera spoke to her. She called me. “What’s Kiera up to, Sasha?” she asked as soon as I went to the phone.

  How could I even begin to explain what had occurred? I certainly felt funny doing it over the telephone in a quick conversation. Instead, I simply told her what we had been doing. “Kiera offered to show me how to play tennis, and then we had lunch by the pool with some of her friends and went swimming. Now everyone is going to dinner and a movie. Should I say no?”

  She was quiet so long that I thought she might have lost the call on her cell phone. “What brought on this sudden generosity on her part?” she finally asked, but it sounded more like she was asking herself a question aloud.

  “Her therapy,” I said, looking for a shortcut.

  “Is that what she said?”

  “Yes.”

  I heard Mr. March in the background asking questions. She must have put her hand over her phone, because it all sounded muffled.

  “All right, but I want you to be very careful, Sasha. I wish I was there to decide about all this, but I can’t be.”

  “I’ll be all right, Mrs. March,” I said.

  “Yes, you will, or someone is going to hear about it,” she said. “I’ll call you first thing in the morning.”

  Not long after I hung up, Kiera came to my suite. She had clothes in her arms. “My mother hasn’t bought you anything worth wearing,” she began, “and Alena’s things are okay for just getting around, but there’s nothing for going out. You’ll look great in this. I’ve outgrown them but hardly wore them.”

  She held up the skirt, which didn’t look as if it would cover much. Before I could say anything, she pretended she was running a fashion show.