“Thanks so much, Ryan,” I said. “It was a beautiful evening, wasn’t it? And the dinner was delicious. If I see that Saturday night’s open, I’ll call, okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Good night,” he said.
“Bye. Thanks again,” I told him.
He pulled away from the curb the minute I closed the door, and for a moment I felt awful. Would it have been kinder to string him on for a little while? To at least have gone out one more time and paid for some of it myself? Let him know gradually that … ? That what? Had I even given him a fair chance, or had I been subconsciously making up my mind about him before we’d even gone out so I could stay true to Patrick? That was my biggest question.
Why is life so complicated? I wondered as I went slowly up the walk and into the house. I hoped that Dad was still up so I could talk to him. It was only nine thirty. But a note told me that he and Sylvia had gone to a concert at the Kennedy Center. I had to get used to the idea that once I went to college, there wouldn’t be a Dad or a Sylvia in my dorm room, waiting for me to unload on them.
24
DEARLY BELOVED
Strangely enough, Penny called that evening because she’d heard from Liz that we’d applied for jobs on a cruise ship over the summer and wondered if she could get in on it too. Liz didn’t know. I gave her the number to call, but explained that the cutoff date for applications had been March 1.
“Check with Gwen,” I told her.
She sighed. “I’m always on the losing end.”
“You what?” I asked incredulously.
“You and Patrick. You and Ryan. You and the cruise ship,” she said plaintively.
I heard what she was saying, but the words didn’t compute. “You’re joking,” I told her.
“No, I mean it, Alice.” She sounded sincere. “I think the whole time Patrick and I were going out, I knew it wasn’t the same as his being with you. Oh, we had fun and a lot of laughs, but … It was hard to be serious with him, you know? Like, to find out how he really felt about me?”
“I can’t quite believe that, Penny, but it’s all in the past,” I said.
“No, really.”
“Well, you could have fooled me, then. You sure looked pretty close when I saw you together in the halls,” I said, wondering why we were talking about this now, and over the phone no less.
“We were attracted to each other, Alice, but … even our kisses were playful. I always felt like, ‘This is fun, but it’s not the real thing.’ Am I making any sense?”
“Maybe,” I told her. “I guess the only two people who are banking on ‘the real thing’ right now are Jill and Justin.” Why had I changed the subject? I wanted to hear more, more, more of how Patrick maybe liked me better all the while. But it was making me uncomfortable too.
“Yeah, seems that way,” she said. “I know you and Gwen were invited to the wedding. We’re all waiting to get an eyewitness account. When the minister asks if anyone knows of a reason those two should not be united in holy matrimony, I’ll bet Justin’s mother will have a speech all prepared.”
We laughed a little.
“Anyway, thanks for the phone number,” she said. “I’ll call the cruise line and see if they’ll still take an application. It would be more fun than babysitting my cousins, which is probably the only job I can get this summer.”
“Good luck,” I said. “And, Penny, just so you know, Ryan’s available.”
There were a few seconds of silence.
“I thought you were going out with him over spring break. That’s what I heard.”
“We did go out, but … like I said … he’s available. Just so you know.”
“Hmmm,” said Penny. “I wonder if he’s ever been to the U Street Music Hall.”
“Ask him,” I said. “I know he’s got Saturday night open.”
“Thanks, Alice,” she said again. “Really.”
“You’re welcome,” I answered. “Really.”
Jill and Justin got married on April 23. It wasn’t a sunny day, but it wasn’t raining, either—one of those overcast April days when it looks as though it could rain but doesn’t. Sort of like the wedding, where it might be happy for some people but not for others. Gwen and I had sent them a pretty ceramic picture frame and wore our very best dresses to the ceremony.
We sat together on the bride’s side of the church. Like everyone else, we were watching for the entrance of the mothers. Jill’s mom came in a purple dress, covered in lace, and Mrs. Collier, not to be outdone, wore a mauve creation that had “designer” written all over it. But they smiled at each other and took seats on their respective sides. Jill’s mom, being divorced, was escorted by one of her brothers, and Mr. Collier had the stoic look of a man who knew that the next six hours were going to be devoted to shaking more hands and chitchatting more than he liked, but whatever was required or expected, he would do.
And Jill did make a beautiful bride. Her body was a little thickened around the waistline, and there was the beginning of a baby bump, but the gown was gorgeous.
“Wow!” Gwen whispered. “One look at her … and no wonder the groom and best man have their hands folded in front.” I poked her with my elbow.
Jill looked a bit more anxious than I expected. She was smiling as she came down the aisle on her father’s arm, but I saw her run her tongue over her lips a time or two as though her mouth were dry. When she reached the front of the sanctuary, her dad kissed her cheek and handed her over to Justin, who escorted her the next few steps toward the altar.
It was a traditional ceremony, not the kind that brides and grooms write themselves. No personal references to “overcoming obstacles” or “a ceremony of healing.” Just “love, honor, and cherish” and “till death do us part.” We were sitting close enough to the front of the church to look over and notice that when Justin took his vows—“I, Justin, take thee, Jill, to love, honor, and cherish …”—there were tears running down Mrs. Collier’s cheek. But her lips never moved when the tears reached them. No hand came up to wipe them away. When the minister asked if anyone knew why Jill and Justin shouldn’t marry, she sat like a sphinx and didn’t move a muscle.
Then, after the magic words “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Jill and Justin kissed. There was no clapping or cheering as there might be in some churches. I think all of us sensed that in this congregation, it wasn’t appropriate. We were relieved when the organ peeled out the recessional and Jill and Justin, looking relieved themselves, went happily back up the aisle, followed by the parents of the bride and groom. I detected a thin line of mascara on both of Mrs. Collier’s cheeks.
The bridal party retired to the minister’s chambers for the official wedding photos after the church was cleared, and Gwen and I drove to the club where the reception would be held, sipping the champagne punch and sampling the shrimp, till Jill and Justin got there.
When they came in at last and formed a receiving line, we said all the right things to Jill and took the opportunity to hug Justin, laughing at the moisture on his forehead.
“Well, we did it,” Jill murmured to us.
“We really pulled it off,” said Justin.
We moved on down the line, telling Jill’s mom it was a beautiful wedding, shaking hands with the father we’d never met, and on to the Colliers.
“So glad you could come,” Mrs. Collier said, giving us her hand but scarcely looking at us or asking our names. Her makeup was repaired and her manners faultless. She turned to the next guests, her smile never wavering.
We sat together at the lavish dinner farther down the hall, behind a set of mahogany doors, and didn’t know a single other guest. We were glad we had each other to talk to, because the rest of the people at our table were younger cousins of the groom who fidgeted in their seats, arranged lemon wedges in their mouths like tooth protectors, then grinned menacingly at each other and received glares and threats from their parents. We stuck it out through the introduction of the new Mr. and Mrs. Justin Col
lier, the toasts and the dancing, and as soon as we comfortably could, we said our good-byes and went out to Gwen’s car.
“Well,” I said, “what do you think?”
“I think she looked beautiful, I think Justin looked relieved, and I think Jill’s mom is glad it’s over. And I think Mrs. Collier is saying to herself, ‘This is only the beginning,’” Gwen said.
“Really? You think she’ll cause trouble?”
“I think Jill married into trouble. But you know, somewhere down the line, Mrs. Collier could end up crazy about her grandchild. Who knows?”
“No one,” I said.
I helped Elizabeth hide Easter eggs on their lawn Easter morning after her family came home from Mass. Then I sat on the porch steps with her, and we laughed as Nathan, her little brother, found another egg, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“That’s something else I miss,” Liz murmured.
I looked over at her. “What?”
“Oh, just one of the things I used to love that has lost its pizzazz. Remember how exciting that used to be—knowing your mom or dad had gone out when you weren’t looking and hidden all those eggs? What do you suppose we’ll outgrow next?”
“Not guys, that’s for sure,” I said. “Speaking of which, what’s the latest with you and Keeno?”
“Not much. But we’re going to the prom. I asked him last night,” she said.
“Yay,” I said.
“But … everything’s up in the air right now. We don’t even know whether or not we have jobs this summer. I don’t know which college I’m going to in the fall, and wherever it is, who knows whom I’ll meet there?”
“Right,” I said. And Patrick will be in Spain, I was thinking. Who knows whom he’ll meet there?
25
LOOKING AHEAD
I was still sitting on Elizabeth’s steps when I saw Lester drive up. I don’t think he noticed me over at the Prices’ house, because he got out, slammed the door, and walked soberly up the walk to our house.
“What’s up with Les?” Liz asked me. “No maple creams in his eggs?”
“I haven’t the faintest,” I said. “Usually he can’t wait to get to Sylvia’s cooking. We invited him for Easter dinner. I’d better go see if I can help.”
She didn’t look very sympathetic. “Tell him Nathan will share his candy, if that’s his problem,” she said, and grinned.
I crossed the street and went inside. Les was leaning against the kitchen doorway. He’d obviously got a haircut recently, because the sideburns were neatly trimmed, the back tapered. He was also wearing a new shirt.
“Happy Easter, Les,” I said, coming up behind him and giving him a hug. “What’s up?”
He reached around and swatted at me, not even bothering to turn. “Got any candy?” he asked.
“No, but the little boy across the street might share some with you,” I said, and moved where he could see me. “You look like someone the Easter bunny forgot.”
“Well, it wasn’t a bunny,” he said, and when Sylvia paused as she sliced the ham, he said, “Kay hasn’t answered my last two phone calls. Can’t figure her out.”
Dad looked up from the sink, a bowl of spinach leaves in his hands. “That’s really strange, Les. She’s been having some dental problems, but nothing serious that I know of.”
“Was she at work yesterday?” Les asked. “Because I left a message there.”
“No. She was at the dentist having a wisdom tooth extracted. I told her to take the rest of the day off,” Dad said.
“That probably explains it, then,” Les said.
“She’s seemed in a good mood lately,” Dad went on. “I think James is going back to China at the end of the month.”
“That’s good,” said Les. “I just get annoyed when people aren’t honest with me.” He took off his jacket and moved to hang it up in the hall closet. The thin brown stripe in his shirt brought out the brown of his eyes, and I realized again how handsome he was. Not surprising he’s had a long string of girlfriends. When he came back in the kitchen, he said, “Nothing serious between Kay and me—we’ve just gone out a few times. But it would be nice to know I didn’t make some cultural gaffe or something.”
“I don’t know what that would be. She’s not easily offended, as far as I can tell,” Dad said.
“Well, if any hot babes happen to ask, I’m available,” he said, and raised an eyebrow at me. “Any hot babe my own age, Al. Don’t give Pamela any ideas.” Pamela’s had a crush on Les forever.
I went out to the buffet in the dining room for the good silverware, placing it around our china there on the table. It was Easter, and we were all together, and that was reason enough to celebrate.
We were halfway through the meal when the doorbell rang. Dad had gone back to the kitchen for the butter. “I’ll get it, Sylvia,” he called. “Stay put.”
I heard the front door open and then Dad’s voice saying, “Why, Kay! Come on in.”
We stared at Les, then turned toward the doorway.
“Oh, my goodness!” I heard Kay exclaim as she entered the dining room. “You’re still eating. And … it’s Easter! I forgot! We don’t celebrate Easter. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Please pull up a chair,” Dad said.
But Kay looked uncomfortable as Les gave her a puzzled smile.
“I drove over to Lester’s apartment, and Paul told me he’d be over here,” Kay said. “I wanted to talk to him face-to-face and … Oh, this is so embarrassing.”
“You … uh … want some privacy?” Dad asked.
“Come on, sit down,” Les said genially, and reached around to pull an empty chair to the table.
She sat. “Les … well, you know, two weeks ago, when I didn’t keep our date?”
“Yeah?”
“That really wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t planned it. Someone knocked on my door, and when I opened it, James was standing there. Alone. He looked really miserable and asked if he could talk to me for a few minutes, so I let him in. He was sort of … well, bowing and scraping, I guess you’d call it, and said he just wanted me to know that he was as embarrassed over this whole thing as I was, but that both sets of parents were making unreasonable demands of us and he was going back to China in a week.
“I told him I knew it wasn’t his fault. Since we both had made excuses for not being at my parents’ house for dinner that night, he said he didn’t want my dad to drive by and see his rental car and know we were in the apartment alone. He asked if there was anywhere we could go to talk. So I suggested a sandwich shop, and we drove there. We just got talking, Les, and there was so much to say. His parents practically ordered him to come back with a wife. A wife-to-be, that is. Namely, me. He just wanted me to know that this wasn’t his idea of marriage and would tell his parents so when he got back.”
Lester had stopped chewing now, and we were all sitting there entranced. Kay let her jacket slip off her shoulders because sunlight was pouring through a side window now, warming the room and making her black hair positively shine. She turned to Lester.
“Les, we … I had no idea we had talked so long, and when I realized it was an hour and a half past the time I was to meet you, I was … I was just too embarrassed to call. I made up some story the next day about my dad. I shouldn’t have, but I was too confused to explain. Well, James called me a few days later to say he was on standby for a flight to China, and maybe we could talk once more, just for friendship’s sake, so … we met again at the sandwich shop.”
I think we all guessed the end of the story.
“We’ve … been to the sandwich shop six times now, and tonight we’re going on a for-real date.”
We all started to smile. Even Lester.
“The thing is, we don’t want anyone to know. We want to see how this goes completely on our own, without any pressure from our parents. If … if we ‘click,’ as you’d call it, then we’ll decide all the rest. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but ?
?? I wasn’t sure of anything.”
Les gave her a real smile now. “Hey, babe, no problem.”
Kay giggled a little, but then grew serious. “James has declined my parents’ dinner invitations, and my parents are furious with me. They say he’ll go back to China and tell everyone what a disrespectful daughter I am, unfit to be his wife.”
“You’re not telling them anything?” I asked.
“Not yet. If this works out between James and me, it will be on our own terms. We’ve been miserable enough on theirs. Now it’s like we just met and know nothing about each other, so we’re starting at the beginning. Mr. Stone Face, I tease him, and he calls me Miss Nose in the Air.”
This was better than any romance book.
“Kay, I’ve got lemon pie for dessert,” Sylvia said. “Won’t you have some with us?”
“I’ll just take a glass of water,” she said. “We’re going out for dinner tonight.”
“I hope you have reservations,” said Dad. “It’s almost impossible to get in a restaurant on Easter without a reservation.”
“A Chinese restaurant,” Kay said, laughing. “You can always get a table at a Chinese restaurant on an American holiday.”
I just sat there grinning at Kay. “Wow!” I said. “Who would have thought?”
“Not in a million years,” said Kay. “But my parents are going to be the last to know.”
We got our letters on May 2. Gwen, Liz, Yolanda, Pam, and I were tentatively hired for the cruise ship. Five two-week cruises on a new line, providing we passed our interview and the training session.
Everyone else at school was envious of us, including Penny, who hadn’t got her application in on time. It was hard enough to find a summer job, not to mention one that began after graduation and ended before any of us had to start college.
Sometimes I’m blown away by how coincidental life is. If Gwen’s mom hadn’t worked for the Justice Department, she wouldn’t have been having lunch with a woman whose brother-in-law had just been hired to be the assistant cruise director for a new Chesapeake Bay line, and we wouldn’t have summer jobs.