Now I'll Tell You Everything

  “Low pay, but it’s worthwhile, and of course I’ll help out at the Melody Inn while Dad’s gone.”

  Les was looking at me strangely. “And that’s it? This is your summer?”

  I couldn’t hold back any longer. Just before dinner, I’d received an e-mail from Liz, and I’d been trying to figure out how to approach the subject with Dad.

  “Okay, so there’s one more thing—I’m going to California!” I said breathlessly, keeping my voice low. “Liz and Pam and Gwen and I made a deal that right after we graduated from college, we’d rent a car and drive to the West Coast for a vacation. Dad’s promised me a car when I graduate, so if I could talk him into giving it to me a year early—”

  “Whoa, whoa, and wow!” Les said. “And you’re doing this a year early because . . . ?”

  “Because Elizabeth’s decided to take a year off after she graduates and teach in a rural school where only a BA is required, then enter a master’s program later.”

  Lester continued to stare at me. “So? And this means . . . ?”

  “This means that next summer she’ll be interviewing for jobs, so she wants to take that long trip to California now, the minute classes are over at Bennington. I’m so psyched!”

  Les settled down a little farther in his chair, as if knowing he was in for the long haul. “I take it you haven’t asked Dad yet for the car.”

  “Actually . . . no. It would be a used one, of course. A red convertible would be perfect, and Pamela’s offered to be the driver.”

  “Uh . . . I think the trip to California is a great idea, but you might want to rethink the convertible and the driver,” said Les.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m so ready for a vacation!” I told him. “With Dad and Sylvia preoccupied with Paris, I figure they’ll be okay with me cutting loose for a while.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Les. “Where does Dave fit into the picture?”

  “Well, he’s graduating later this month and has some job leads. I’m happy for him. But . . .” I avoided Lester’s eyes. “I get the feeling that he’s going to propose one of these days.”

  “Really! Guess you guys are serious.”

  I gave him a quick glance and looked away again. “And I’m not sure I want him to yet. I mean, how do you keep a guy from popping the question?”

  “Have you tried anti-proposal spray? The heavy-duty kind you can use in the dark?”

  Les always makes me laugh. I kicked his feet off the hassock. “Be serious,” I told him.

  “Okay. Whatever you do, though, be honest. If you want to wait, just say so.”

  “But maybe I don’t. Maybe I want to get married already. And . . .” I reached for my glass of iced tea and sat jiggling it slightly, watching the shifting of the ice cubes.

  “You might want to pay attention to those ‘maybes,’ ” he said. And when I didn’t respond, he added, “Al, you’re only twenty-one. If you live to be eighty-four, you’ve lived only a fourth of your life so far. If you live to be a hundred and five, it’s only a fifth of your life. If you live—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. Maybe I’ll just go to California and stay there. Maybe the four of us will climb into that red convertible and ride off into the sunset.”

  “Well, if Pamela’s driving, be sure your life insurance payments are up-to-date, and make me the beneficiary,” said Les.

  10

  TAKING OFF

  When Dad heard we wanted to drive to California, he freaked out. Sylvia, too. “It will take half your vacation just getting there and back,” he said.

  “Why don’t you take a train out, so you can see the country, then fly back?” Sylvia suggested.

  That appealed, actually. Amtrak had a special deal with an airline, so we bought our tickets and worked out an itinerary. All but Gwen. She had proven herself such a valuable lab assistant, that she’d been hired for the summer to work with a doctor researching the human placenta. Any med student would envy her the job.

  “I wish you’d reconsider and come with us,” I told her on the phone after my last class. I was standing out in front of the dorm with some of my stuff, waiting for Dad.

  “I wish I could too, but from now on, my summers are booked till I get that ‘MD’ after my name. Send me a card from Big Sur, one of the places I’ve always wanted to see,” she said.

  I went to Dave’s graduation and presented him with a neat desk set—a heavy, square acrylic paperweight and a letter opener with an acrylic handle. The clear acrylic had tiny parts of watches buried in it—little gears and wheels and springs.

  “For the up-and-coming businessman,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. He pulled me closer, and we had a real kiss.

  I didn’t spend the night with him because his parents were taking us out to dinner. Also, I was getting up early the next morning to finish packing for the train ride.

  Our good-bye kiss away from his parents said it all, my body molded into his. He made me promise to spend a weekend in Cumberland with him as soon as I got back.

  “Alone,” he added. “No girlfriends.” He grinned. “Have a good time, now. Two weeks is all you get.”

  * * *

  Pam and Liz and I boarded the train as excited as we’d been years ago when we took Amtrak to visit Aunt Sally in Chicago. This time we had two economy sleepers across the aisle from each other. Each had two armchairs, facing each other, which joined to make a bed at night, and a top bunk that folded down from the ceiling. Since we needed only three beds, we dumped all our extra stuff on one of the top bunks. We decided to take turns sleeping in the room with the extra bunk. The shower and toilets were on the lower level of the car.

  As we pulled out of Union Station, all three of us squeezed in one of the rooms, Pamela said, “Remember our last train trip, when those guys were horsing around outside the window, trying to see in?” We all laughed.

  “And we’ll never forget the man you picked up, Pamela, who tried to get in your room later,” Liz teased.

  “Tried to get in her pants!” I added.

  “He tried to pick me up! I only agreed to have dinner with him,” Pamela argued.

  “And Aunt Sally almost passed out when we told her,” I said, and we laughed some more.

  An attendant came by to make sure we knew how to use all the room amenities and ask if we needed a wake-up call the next morning. Then, after the conductor had taken our tickets and someone had come by to make our dinner reservations, we were free to move about the train.

  In the dining car we were seated across the aisle from five guys who were all trying to cram in at one table.

  “Now, you three lovely ladies wouldn’t object to having one of these fine gentlemen at your table, would you?” the chief dining room steward asked, smiling at us, and Pamela instantly moved over to make room.

  We introduced ourselves.

  “Tom, Dick and Harry, Moe and Joe,” said the blond guy sitting opposite me, giving fictitious names to himself and his friends. We went along with the joke because it was easy to remember.

  Four of them, it turned out, had just graduated from Georgetown University, the other from American, and they were giving themselves a cross-country train trip as a graduation present: Washington to San Francisco, then up to Seattle, then back east again, making multiple stops along the way. They were traveling coach class, which meant they had reclining seats instead of beds, no showers, and they had to pay for their food. We sleeping-car passengers had meals included in our fare.

  So we told the guys they could have our desserts, and we ordered cheesecake for the three of us and gave it all to them. Afterward we sat in the lounge car and talked—their real names were Drew, Andy, George, and Kyle, though “Moe” for Moses was authentic. As the train went through the Cumberland Gap, I thought of Dave, and when it was too dark to see out, we found two tables on the lower level and played gin rummy and drank beer until eleven.

  “Gosh, they’re nice!” Liz said after we got back to our
sleeper. “Moe is so funny!”

  “We lucked out,” said Pamela. “We get them the whole way to San Francisco.”

  Our agreement was that Pamela was to sleep solo the first night from Washington to Chicago, where we changed trains. Then Liz would get a room to herself from Chicago to Denver, and I got to have it from Denver to San Francisco.

  Elizabeth decided to take her shower at night in case there was a waiting line in the morning, so she picked up her shampoo and robe and towel and headed downstairs while the attendant finished making up our beds. Almost immediately, however, she was back upstairs and collapsed on the lower bunk of our compartment, her face as pink as her T-shirt.

  “Now what?” asked Pamela.

  “All I did was open the door, and there stood a middle-aged man completely naked!” she gasped.

  “What was he? A flasher?” said Pamela.

  “No! He was drying off. He was as startled as I was. I am so embarrassed!”

  The attendant returned with more sheets and smiled as he said, “What you have to remember, ladies, when you’re in the shower, is to push that lock all the way. We get at least one surprise per trip.” He grinned as he put a chocolate on each pillow before he wished us good night.

  Elizabeth covered her face. “One of you come down with me and guard the door while I’m in there!” she said.

  Now she was sounding like the old Elizabeth again.

  “That’s like your opening the wrong door at the Gap the summer you moved to Silver Spring,” Pamela said to me. “And there stood Patrick Long, in all his glory.”

  “Not quite,” I said. “He had his Jockeys on.”

  “Please!” Elizabeth begged. “Somebody go back down with me and see if that man’s out of the shower. What’ll I say if I meet him in the dining car tomorrow?”

  “How about, ‘Nice legs’?” Pamela suggested.

  “Or, ‘Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on,’  ” I said.

  “You guys are no help,” Elizabeth said, but she finally went back down alone. Pamela said good night and went in her room, and I climbed up on the top bunk of ours and settled down. When Elizabeth came back up, she had a clean, soapy smell, and her dark hair glistened as she toweled it dry. I had my light off, but I could see her reflection in the mirror on our wall as she thoughtfully combed out the tangles. It came to me then that she finally looked happy. She wasn’t bone skinny like she used to be.

  “I wish all guys were like those five we met at dinner,” she said. “Do you realize that not one of them swore the whole evening? Nobody got sloshed, no one was crude.”

  I propped up my head on my hand. “I think that when guys get more mature, they don’t try to show off so much. Girls are the same way. After you start working toward a career, you let other things define you.”

  “I guess that’s it,” said Liz.

  We heard the train whistle in the dark, and then it started up again after its stop in Pittsburgh. I lifted my shade once in the night to see a full moon over the silhouette of trees, and then I let the train rock me back to sleep.

  * * *

  The guys looked pretty sleepy the next morning, especially Moe, who, being the tallest at six foot three, hadn’t slept all night.

  “Look at them!” Andy grumbled to George at breakfast, casting a scornful glance our way. “Hair combed, bright-eyed . . . Don’t they make you sick?”

  “That’s ’cause we’re rich!” Pamela teased. “We saved up our money for a sleeper.”

  “Lucky you,” said Kyle.

  At that exact moment a middle-aged man came up the aisle and stopped at our table, and Elizabeth’s face instantly turned bright red. As the guys gawked, the man looked at Elizabeth and, with a twinkle in his eye, said, “Well, now that you know me intimately, I guess I should wish you a pleasant trip.” And he went on his way.

  “Whaaaat?” asked Drew, leaning forward and staring at Elizabeth, who was laughing now but hiding her face in her hands.

  “Oh, she just picks up stray guys,” I said.

  “Like puppies, you know. Can’t resist them,” Pamela said. Then she added, “They were in the shower together last night.”

  “Well!” said Moe. “This is going to be some trip!”

  On our five-hour layover in Chicago, the guys headed off for a museum. They invited us to come with them, but we were having lunch with Aunt Sally and Uncle Milt, so we just said we’d see them back at the station when it was time to board the California Zephyr.

  We had a little time before lunch, so we walked over to the Sears Tower and took the elevator to the observation deck, where we could see out over Chicago and Lake Michigan. It was impossible, of course, not to think of Patrick and my visit to him at the University of Chicago. I could see its Rockefeller Chapel as well as the beach below us where Patrick and I had walked that first day. He’s on the other side of the world now, I told myself. That part of my life was over.

  When we got back to the train station, Aunt Sally and Uncle Milt were waiting with outstretched arms. Aunt Sally almost squeezed me to death.

  “Young ladies, that’s what you are!” she kept saying, grabbing each of us by the shoulders and looking us over.

  “It’s been too long, Alice,” Uncle Milt said, giving me a big hug.

  They took us to a Japanese restaurant that Carol had recommended, and we talked as fast as we could, describing Lester’s wedding, catching up on each other’s lives.

  “I still remember our last visit here—how Carol took us to all those fantastic shops and we tried on hats,” Elizabeth said.

  “And you were so upset, Sally, about the man who tried to get in my room on the train,” said Pamela.

  “Oh, I remember that like it was yesterday!” Aunt Sally said. “You girls were so young, anything could have happened.”

  As we talked, I studied my aunt and uncle. They definitely looked older than when I’d seen them last. Aunt Sally’s hair was all white now, not just white in places, and Uncle Milt was a lot thinner.

  I didn’t like seeing them growing older. They were the only relatives I really knew well. When they drove us back to the station, Aunt Sally gave me an extra hug. “I love you, dear,” she said. “And your mother loved you too.”

  * * *

  After we’d boarded the train to California that afternoon, we went through the coach cars looking for the guys, since coach passengers aren’t allowed in the sleeping cars, and found them looking somewhat refreshed, all but Moe and George, who had reclined in their seats as far back as they could go but who still, obviously, were not sleeping.

  We asked for a “table for eight” in the dining car that night and were given two tables across from each other, Kyle sitting with us this time. The guys told us about their morning at the Museum of Science and Industry, but halfway through dinner, we saw Moe leaning against the window on their side of the aisle, eyes closed. And I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard Elizabeth say, “We’ve got an extra bed, Moe. Do you want to use it?”

  Pamela and I stared. Elizabeth? Elizabeth said that? I realized it was her turn to sleep in the room with the extra bunk that night, and it was hers to do with as she pleased, but I never would have expected that.

  Moe opened his eyes. “You mean it?”

  “Hey, I’m sleepy too!” said George.

  “Me too!” chimed in Drew and Andy.

  “You don’t take her up on it, I will,” said Kyle.

  “Is it allowed?” Moe asked.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, lowering her voice, “but we could smuggle you in.”

  That became the evening’s project, to somehow smuggle six-foot-three Moe into the spare bunk without the attendant knowing.

  “We could always dress him up as a woman, Elizabeth, and then if the attendant saw him in your room, he wouldn’t be so shocked,” said Pamela. We were in the lounge car now, even though it was too dark to see out.

  Moe rolled his eyes. “That wa
s a Marilyn Monroe movie, wasn’t it?”

  “I’ve got an extra pair of pajamas,” said Elizabeth.

  “They just might reach his knees,” said Drew.

  “Wig?” asked George. “Anybody got a wig?”

  We knew that the train attendants had probably seen everything there was to see, but we didn’t want Moe to have to pay extra for the bed. So after the attendant had made up our beds for the night, we took all the stuff we’d stored on the extra bunk and crammed it under the lower bunks.

  Elizabeth stayed in her room with the curtain closed, Pamela kept watch down the hall, and as soon as the attendant went to the lower level to make up a bed down there, I went to the observation car and got Moe, and he ducked into Elizabeth’s room. Then Pamela and I dived in after him, and we closed the glass door behind the thick blue curtain.

  Pamela, Elizabeth, and I had to crawl onto the bottom bunk to leave room for Moe to move. We were giggling like grade school kids.

  He had changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt and was in his stocking feet. He bent down so he could see us. “Hey, I really appreciate this,” he said, and put one hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear to keep my hands to myself and stay in the top bunk.” He looked at Elizabeth. “You can even keep the curtain open a little so your friends can check up on me, if you want.”

  “We trust you,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll just ring for the attendant if you molest me.” She pointed to the round yellow button on the wall by her bed.

  “You’ve got a call button up there too,” I told him.

  “You mean if Elizabeth molests me, I can call for the attendant?” Moe asked.

  “For tonight, you’re at the mercy of Elizabeth,” Pamela told him.

  “Lucky me,” said Moe.

  * * *

  I was the first one awake in the morning. I snapped on my light long enough to see that it was 6:57, but I wasn’t quite ready to get up yet, so I turned off the light again and nestled down under the blanket. I could hear a door sliding open now and then from out in the hall and the attendant’s cheery, “Good morning!” Suddenly I bolted straight up. I remembered that we had requested a wake-up call at seven.