Including Alice

  I took off my shoes at last and sat down with Gwen and Pamela, happy to watch everyone else dance for a while. Patrick came off the dance floor finally to thank me for inviting him, and then he left about the same time Mr. Everett did, so it was just us girls again. I was glad Patrick had been able to stay as long as he did, since he hadn’t planned on the reception. But I couldn’t help wondering if he wasn’t going out with Penny later.

  “Don’t tell me Patrick doesn’t still like you, girl,” Gwen said. She looked good in a rose-colored dress, the skirt in filmy layers. “He was watching you even when you weren’t looking at him.”

  I just smiled. “Well, it was nice having him here. Have you heard from Joe?” I asked, wondering about the guy she’d met at camp last summer.

  “Now and then,” she said. “But this semester I’m dating my books.”

  “You and Patrick both,” I said.

  I noticed that Uncle Howard and Uncle Harold were carrying gifts out to their car—presents that had been brought to the reception and needed to be taken back to the house. But it wasn’t until I saw Dad and Sylvia slowly making their way to the door, a crowd around them, that I realized they were leaving.

  Everyone gathered near the entrance to see them off, and I picked up my shoes and went along with the crowd. I wanted to hug Dad and Sylvia and explain that they’d be getting my present later. But it would seem awkward to push my way through all the people, and I was sure Dad would look around for Les and me and signal us to come over. So I just waited and smiled as friends made little jokes and gave them their best wishes.

  The four men in front of me must have been music instructors at the Melody Inn, because they broke into some kind of a good-bye song in German—a German drinking song, maybe, judging by the way they kept raising their beer mugs at the end of each phrase. Some of the other guests joined in.

  I finally backed up and went around the edge of the room, away from the crowd, until I could reach the door that way, but when I stepped outside, I saw Dad’s car, newly washed and polished, just moving out the end of the driveway and into the Saturday traffic.

  I stared after them—hurt and stunned. Dad left on his honeymoon with the woman I had found for him, and he didn’t even hug me? Thank me? Tell me good-bye? Dad always tells me good-bye. Even when he goes to work in the mornings, he always says something special. What did they do—tell everyone else they were leaving except me, the Girl Who Brought Them Together? What was I? Just some leftover deviled egg on the hors d’oeuvres platter?

  Tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t stop them. Pamela and Gwen had gone to the rest room, and I searched blindly around the room until I found Lester having a beer over by a window.

  “Whoa!” he said when I collided with the back of his suit coat. He grabbed at my hand.

  “Dad … ,” was all I could say.

  “Nope. I don’t know what you’re drinking, Al, but it’s me … Les,” he said, waving one hand in front of my face.

  “H-H-He didn’t even tell me good-bye!” I choked out.

  “He didn’t?” Lester looked thoughtful. “Well, he didn’t tell me good-bye either. I know they’re trying to make it to the Greenbrier before it gets dark, and it’s at least a four-hour drive.”

  “Well, what’s going to happen to me?” I asked desperately. “Nobody’s said.”

  “Hey, Al, you’re not an orphan,” said Les.

  “No one tells me anything! Carol’s staying at your place, and Nancy and Lois are staying at Sylvia’s, and—”

  “Aunt Sally and Uncle Milt are going to stay with you till Dad and Sylvia get back,” he said.

  “Aunt Sally!” I bleated, and Lester hushed me before I attracted attention. “You get Carol, and Dad gets Sylvia, and I get Aunt Sally? Why didn’t Dad just send me to Girl Scout camp? A convent?”

  “Shhhh,” said Lester. “Tell you what, why don’t you invite Gwen and Pamela to stay with you, over the weekend at least? If Aunt Sally objects, tell her you got it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  That was a little better. It’s not that I don’t love Aunt Sally. I do, in a relative sort of way, and we were certain to eat well while she was at our place. But she’s not exactly Fun City. You would hardly call being with Aunt Sally a blast.

  I did manage to mind my manners and thank Margaret and her mother for doing my hair and makeup.

  “And you looked great,” Margaret said. She looked great herself, a little too much like a lawyer, maybe, in a gray silk outfit, almost like her mother’s, but semi-great, anyway. And she did know a lot about makeup.

  “Good-bye,” I said to Kirk when he told me they were flying back that evening. “It’s nice to meet Sylvia’s side of the family. It was a treat to see both you and Nancy.”

  “And now that we know Sylvia is in good hands and that Nancy’s getting well, it will be a better year for all of us,” Kirk said.

  The reception ended a half hour later as people began to drift off and waiters came in to clear the tables. Pamela said she could stay with me over the weekend, but Gwen’s dad was celebrating his birthday, so she had to get home. Her mom was already parked outside.

  Nancy was tired and needed to lie down. Lois drove her back to Sylvia’s house on Saul Road, then drove Pamela to her house and me to mine, where Aunt Sally and Uncle Milt were already unpacking up in Dad and Sylvia’s bedroom. Before I went upstairs, I picked up the hall phone and called Elizabeth. I told her Pamela was coming over later to spend the weekend and asked if she could come.

  “Yes, if you promise not to speculate every minute about what your dad and Sylvia are doing,” Elizabeth said.

  I laughed. “Can we speculate on what you and Ross were doing this afternoon?” I asked. Then she laughed.

  I went upstairs to change out of my teal dress and put on my jeans and fleece top. I wanted to get off all the makeup and be me again. I decided that the first thing I wanted to do when Liz and Pamela came over was to go walking around the neighborhood, kicking through dry leaves. Forgetting that Dad and Sylvia had left without telling me good-bye.

  I slipped off the dress, and as I laid it across the bed, I saw a small box on my bedspread with a note beside it.

  I opened the box first. Inside was a delicate bracelet, small jade stones set in silver. I unfolded the note:

  Dear alice,

  Thank you for being my brides-maid, my maid of honor, and—most of all—my new daughter. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even better when we get back.

  Love,

  Sylvia

  “Oh, Alice, you’re back!” Aunt Sally said, stopping in the doorway. “I see you found the little box. Sylvia gave it to me before she and Ben left and asked me to give it to you. Now, isn’t that beautiful.”

  Yes, it was. I smiled.

  8

  A Bedroom Surprise

  As soon as Aunt Sally got downstairs, she started cooking something. Uncle Milt stretched out on the couch to nap until suppertime, which gave Elizabeth and Pamela and me a chance to go outside and walk around the neighborhood and talk.

  “So tell me everything!” Elizabeth insisted. “Did your dad and Sylvia have a song? Did Lester give a toast? Did anyone hit on you, Pamela?”

  We did tell her everything—Jim Sorringer, Mr. Everett, Mr. Hensley, Lester and Carol and the Slither, the food, Patrick and me… .

  “Now you tell us everything,” I said. “What did you and Ross do? Where did you meet?”

  “I took the Metro downtown and met him at a Starbucks near GW,” Elizabeth said. “His brother was looking over the campus, so we had about two hours—they’re driving back this evening. We talked and talked and—”

  “Kissed and kissed,” said Pamela.

  “That, too,” said Elizabeth, her eyes smiling. But she looked wistful. “He says he wants me to go out with other guys. That it wouldn’t be fair for me not to. That he can’t come down every time there’s a dance or a good movie or a basketball game or something.” r />
  We were quiet, knowing what that meant—that he’d be going out with girls up there in Pennsylvania. “But we still had a good time together,” Elizabeth said. “We walked around the GW neighborhood, and he said he might be able to get down now and then after he gets his license, especially if his brother makes the university.” Then she added, “If we got really serious about each other, I wonder how this would turn out. If we’d agree to wait for each other.”

  “Too bad we can’t sort of freeze-dry Ross and defrost him when you’re both twenty-four,” I said. “Love gets complicated, you know?”

  We turned a corner and saw a maple tree, totally gorgeous with green and yellow and orange leaves, all on the same tree. We walked and talked a long time—about the wedding, about love, Lester, Lori, life… .

  I hadn’t told either Elizabeth or Pamela about my conversation with Lori in the rest room at the church, but Pamela had heard about the breakup from Karen, who was spreading the news by e-mail. Pamela said there had been a message waiting for her when she’d gone home to change.

  “Do you suppose it’s the same as breaking up with a guy?” Pamela asked.

  “Why not?” I said.

  Elizabeth, in her blue sweats, thrust her hands deep in her jacket pockets. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine it. I mean, kissing another girl is sort of like kissing yourself. Where’s the thrill in that?”

  We thought about that awhile.

  “Maybe,” I said, “but haven’t you ever wondered what a girl sees in some particular guy who doesn’t interest you at all?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, maybe it’s the same for lesbians. They see things in some other girl that may not attract you in the least. But Lori’s really hurting right now. I think she liked Leslie a lot.”

  “Who did Leslie ditch her for?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Someone from another school, I heard,” said Pamela. “I think he met Leslie at a church conference or something.”

  Elizabeth and I both reacted at once: “He? A guy?”

  “According to Karen.”

  “Wow.” Elizabeth let out her breath and walked noisily through a large pile of leaves against the curb. Pamela and I followed, kicking them high in the air and letting them fall again on our feet. “I’ve heard that there’s someone in the world for every single person alive,” Elizabeth said. “It’s just that some of them never find each other. Isn’t that depressing? What if they find each other, like Ross and me, only it’s not the right time?”

  Pamela shrugged. “What about people who want to stay single?” Then she muttered, “I know two people who should have stayed single. My parents.” Pamela’s mom has been gone for two years, but now she’s back here in Maryland again, wanting to be part of the family, and Mr. Jones won’t take her back.

  “If they’d stayed single, Pamela, we wouldn’t have you!” I told her, and slipped one arm around her waist.

  We strolled by the playground of our old elementary school, where we hang out sometimes, but nobody was there, so we started back home again. I studied our house as we got closer, as though seeing it for the first time. Just an ordinary two-story house, but with Dad and Sylvia gone, it was the one familiar thing I could count on. Then I remembered.

  “Did you know Sylvia wants to remodel our house?” I said. “She wants to enlarge their bedroom, put in a master bath, and add a study downstairs. They’d use Lester’s old room for a guest room.”

  “Privacy,” said Elizabeth. “You can hardly blame her.”

  “It’s only natural,” said Pamela. “By the way, where’s your cousin Carol staying while she’s in town? I figured she would be staying with you.”

  “She’s at Lester’s,” I said.

  Elizabeth stopped in her tracks. “With three guys?”

  “That’s Carol!” I said.

  “And using the same bathroom?” cried Elizabeth.

  Pamela grinned. “Not all at the same time,” she told her.

  We had a late supper of soup and corn bread, and later, when we were in my room again, Aunt Sally brought up a huge metal bowl of popcorn.

  “You sure make a good mom,” I told her. She was pleased.

  “Have some,” Elizabeth offered, holding out the bowl for Aunt Sally, and she smiled as she sat down on the edge of my bed and took a handful, thrilled, I think, to be included.

  I got out the sheet and pillowcase set I was working on for Dad and Sylvia and let Aunt Sally exclaim over it.

  “Now, isn’t that pretty!” she said. “Why, those are the very colors Sylvia chose for her wedding!” Good old Aunt Sally. She didn’t tell me that she could see where the stitches began and ended and that one of the pillowcases was wrinkled and slightly dirty.

  “I know they will like that,” she said. “It was a nice wedding, wasn’t it?”

  I nodded. “I was thinking of all the things that weren’t perfect about it, and yet it didn’t really matter, did it?” I began working on the embroidery as we talked, running a needle under the fabric and bringing it up just before the end of the stitch behind it.

  “Like what wasn’t perfect?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Nancy not feeling well enough to be in the ceremony, Grandpa getting restless, Jim Sorringer showing up, me dropping my purse …”

  “The biggest mistake a bride can make is thinking that everything ought to be perfect on her wedding day,” said Aunt Sally emphatically. “It never is, and it just makes her upset and nervous.”

  Pamela grinned as she reached for the popcorn again. “What about her wedding night?”

  “Well, now!” Aunt Sally said, and quickly pushed some popcorn in her mouth.

  We could tell she was embarrassed, and Pamela said, “Erase! Erase!”

  But we had invited my aunt to have popcorn with us, and I could tell she wanted so much to be “one of the girls.” “Oh,” she said, blushing, “I was so stupid when I married. That’s really all I can call it: stupid.”

  We sat awkwardly waiting, wondering what to say.

  “Why?” I asked finally.

  “Well,” she said, lowering her voice, even though Uncle Milt had gone to bed a half hour before, “I had just thought that Milt and I could get to know each other a little better first.”

  I paused with the needle in my hand. “What was it, an arranged marriage or something? You’d hardly even met?”

  Aunt Sally laughed a little. “No, but we’d known each other only eight months and—”

  “Eight months!” Pamela cried. “Eight months, for us, is a lifetime!”

  Aunt Sally was really blushing now. “Well, we weren’t what you’d call ‘intimate’ before we married. Marie and I didn’t have any brothers, you know, so I wasn’t used to sharing a bathroom with a man, much less my bed! I just thought we’d do it… gradually, you know.”

  “Do it gradually?” Elizabeth said, astonished.

  “Yeah, could you sort of describe that?” Pamela said.

  Now Aunt Sally was blushing furiously. She has pale, freckled skin—like Mom had, I’ll bet—and you can always tell when she is either embarrassed or angry. “What I meant was … ,” she began. “Well, I thought we could gradually get used to undressing in front of each other first, then lying in each other’s arms, then some night, when we both felt ready …”

  Pamela was frankly staring now. “No offense,” she said, “but you sound like Queen Victoria’s sister!”

  “I know. I always was the family prude, Marie used to say,” said Aunt Sally.

  “I don’t think that means you’re a prude at all,” Elizabeth told her. “I sort of feel the same way, that I might not want to ‘do it’ right away.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ll want to do it the minute the wedding’s over, if we haven’t been ‘intimate’ before,” said Pamela.

  Elizabeth flopped over on her side. “That’s what I just can’t stand. All those people at the wedding staring at you and imagining what you’re going to be doing that night. It??
?s indecent! It’s nobody’s business! I’d just like to prove them all wrong.”

  “So you’re going to come back from your honeymoon wearing a T-shirt that says, ‘Ha-ha! I’m still a virgin’?” Pamela asked.

  “Well, I know how Aunt Sally feels, because I used to think that people only had sex when they wanted a baby. I didn’t know they did it just for fun.”

  “Oh, my!” said Aunt Sally, and even her neck was red. “We never even used ‘sex’ and ‘fun’ in the same sentence.”

  “How did you describe it?” I asked. I was learning more about Aunt Sally than I ever thought she would tell me.

  She thought about that a minute. “Beautiful… necessary… generous … dutiful… . Oh, I wish I had been more relaxed about it. It would have made it so much easier for Milt. He was so patient, though. It must be nice to feel so free and easy and natural, the way you girls do.”

  Natural? I thought. Free and easy? I wonder why grown-ups think it’s so easy for us, being ourselves. Sometimes being natural and free and easy is really the hardest thing in the world.

  When we woke Sunday morning, Aunt Sally was already up making French toast, and Uncle Milt was squeezing the oranges for juice.

  “Hey, I think we’ll hire you to stay on,” I joked, giving him a hug.

  “You know, Alice,” he said, “you walk into a room and I see your mother. She wore her hair down to her shoulders just like you. Same color—a little lighter, maybe. Same smile. She even walks like her mother, doesn’t she, Sal?”

  Aunt Sally nodded as she set the syrup on the table. “I see Marie in her all the time. But she has a new mother now, Milt, and we can’t keep on talking about Marie so much.”

  “Sylvia wouldn’t mind,” I told them. “She really wouldn’t. She doesn’t mind if Dad talks about Mom either.”