I wasn’t expecting the evening to go badly, but just in case it didn’t go as wonderfully as I had been imagining for two years, I wanted to have my own escape.
“Are you sure I can’t pick you up?”
“Let’s just meet—this time.”
“It’s a date. Seven o’clock at Amedeo’s.”
Once I had calmed down so that I no longer sounded like I was inhaling helium, I called Percy to tell him the news. He bellowed his delight, just as I knew he would.
He yelled, “I’ll be right over. We need to celebrate!”
In ten minutes Percy burst through my front door, toting a carton of Cokes and a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts. We sure know how to celebrate! Percy went to the kitchen to pop the caps on two Cokes and to put the rest in the frig. By the time he returned to the living room, I was settled on the sofa with the Krispy Kremes. We sat cross-legged, facing each another, with the donuts between us. As we ate right out of the box, I told Percy every detail of Ted’s notes and our telephone conversations.
“I’m so happy for you. You didn’t do anything foolish, didn’t rush into this thing. Now, take it slowly, and make sure it’s right. And, Sis, there is no one who deserves to be happy more than you do.”
“Percy, I don’t know how to date. I haven’t been out on a date since I went out with Garth sixteen years ago. You have to coach me.”
“You don’t need any coaching. You just be yourself, and this guy Ted is going to be falling all over himself. I know you’re excited, Sis, but Ted is one lucky man.”
I wanted to be able to share my good news with my parents, but Ma’am was in a world of her own, and The Colonel was still hoping that Garth and I would reconcile. Knowing I didn’t have parents to turn to, Percy filled in for them as best he could, just as he always had. I loved my big brother so much and was so grateful for his kindness.
“What should I wear?”
“Well, let’s see: there’s your pink sweatshirt, your green sweatshirt, your black sweatshirt… Sis, we need to go shopping. You don’t have a thing you can wear on a date. Meet me tomorrow after work at Leggett’s, and we’ll get you all decked out.”
Percy stood, stretched, and rubbed his belly. “Bleecchhh! Every time we eat a dozen donuts, I swear I’m never gonna do that again! Gotta run. See you tomorrow at five.”
And, with that, Percy was out the door, leaving me to fantasize about Ted.
Fifty-five
When Percy saw me coming down the street, he struck an impatient pose, tapped his foot, and glared at his watch—all for my amusement, of course. I could not have been more than thirty seconds late.
He grabbed my arm, whisked me through the door of Leggett’s Department Store, and exclaimed, “Where have you been?”
On our way up the escalator to the woman’s floor, Percy said, “You used to love clothes, but I haven’t seen you show any interest in dressing up since high school. Your madras shirt had to be pressed just so, and you had a different color pair of Weejuns for every day of the week. What happened?”
“Garth happened, I guess. I was too busy trying to jump through his hoops to think about fashion. And if I ever did mention shopping, we were just too strapped for cash at that moment. Guess I just finally gave up and gave in.”
“Well, Garth’s history, and soon you’ll be a big college grad. It’s time you shed the University sweats and jeans and dressed like an adult.”
Percy finished his lecture just as we stepped off the escalator. I headed toward the bargain shop, but Percy grabbed my arm and swung me around.
“I cased the joint before you got here. We’re not buying off the sale rack, Sis. You can afford anything in this store, and we’re going to find you something special and beautiful. And you aren’t allowed to look at price tags.”
And, with that, Percy guided me toward Fine Fashions, a department I’d seen only in passing. We stepped off the noisy tile floor onto plush carpeting, the fragrance of roses, the sound of classical music, and a silver tray of petit fours. A very tall woman dressed in a canary-yellow knit suit glided forward, as if on wheels.
“Help yewww?” she whispered, only slightly moving her bright-red lips without disturbing any other feature of her face.
I said, “Yes, I’m looking for a dress—a dress for a dinner date.”
Make-up still intact, she said, “Well, then, may I show you some lovely things on our sale rack?”
She had no way of knowing that I could afford to buy her whole department without batting an eye. My sweatshirt did not scream prosperity.
I said, “No, thank you; I prefer this season’s fashions,” and headed toward a rack of expensive-looking dresses that I hoped were this season’s fashions. I had absolutely no idea what the current trends were. I had been out of touch, hadn’t paid attention. But I figured if I could strut with confidence, I could possibly cover my ineptitude.
Percy and I saw it at once and reached for it at the same time. It was like saying the same word in unison and having to break the spell with a pinky swear. It was beautiful—a simple vibrant blue knit, a dress that looked like it would flow in all the right places and, more importantly, cling in all the right places. And it was my color. Whenever I wore bright blue, Ma’am said it made my eyes look like sapphires. And since I so seldom got Ma’am’s attention or praise, I tried to wear blue when I knew she would see me.
“This is the one,” Percy and I said, and laughed at being so in sync.
The clerk said, “Well, now that I know what you like, I can pull some others for you to try.”
“No, thanks. This is the one. If you’ll just point me in the direction of the dressing room, I’ll try it for size.”
“Well, all right, then. Most of my clients aren’t so easy to please or so sure of what they want. Now, if you’ll just give me your shoe size, I’ll run get the perfect pair to go with your dress. And, by the way, I’m Sylvia.”
I whispered to Sylvia that I was a Size 9, and she was off to the shoe department. By the time I had shed my teen wear and pulled the big-girl dress over my head, Sylvia had returned with the perfect pair of black heels—elegant enough for the occasion, but not so fancy as to overpower my simple dress. Best of all, they made my slimmed-down calves look like dynamite.
As I stepped from the dressing room, Percy’s face spread into a wide grin. “Wow! I had no idea. You’ve hidden behind sweatshirts for so long, I’d forgotten how pretty my little sister is. You look beautiful, Sis. You’ll knock Ted dead!”
I spent as much for that dress and shoes as I had spent on clothes in the past ten years. But I was certain it was worth it. Better yet, I was worth it.
As we reached the street, Percy said, “I gotta run. Vickie and Lydia are expecting me for supper, and I’m already late.”
Before he could leave, I grabbed his hand and said, “Will you please come over Saturday before I go out. I need your help?”
Percy smiled and said, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Then I watched the best friend any girl could have turn and sprint toward his motorcycle.
The four days until Saturday lasted about a year and a half. It had been so long since I had dated, I wasn’t sure how to act. I didn’t know what to expect of Ted either. Had he dated a lot? Was I just one of many? Did he make a habit of dating students? What was he expecting of me?
I couldn’t study, couldn’t concentrate in class. I wandered the halls, trying to catch a glimpse of Ted. At work my boss asked if I were sick and felt the need to go home. I forgot to eat, and when I remembered, I wasn’t able.
By the time Saturday arrived, I was a wreck. I had asked myself so many frightening questions that I almost talked myself out of the date. I had known Ted for two years, had enrolled in all of his classes, had felt comfortable engaging in conversation with him. Why was I so nervous? We were just going to Amedeo’s for Italian. Weren’t we?
I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard Percy let himself in and
bound up the stairs, calling my name.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right out.”
“I’m gonna get a Coke. You want one?”
“Sure. I’ve only had four today. You can never have enough caffeine when you’re nervous as hell about your first date in sixteen years.”
I heard Percy chuckle as he ran back down the stairs to the kitchen. By the time he returned with our Cokes, I had dried my hair and was winding it around big hot rollers.
“Do people still use hot rollers?”
He handed me a Coke, lowered the toilet lid, and sat, saying, “Sis, how would I know? I just put my hair in a ponytail.”
I didn’t care for the latest hair fashions—all those wings and flips. It was just all too complicated for me. I preferred my hair long and natural but decided the hot rollers would give my do a little lift.
Once I’d wound my entire head, I reached under the sink for a plastic bag of makeup. I blew the dust off, opened it, and peered inside, having no idea what I’d find.
When I dumped the contents out on the counter, Percy squinted at it and said, “Couldn’t you have sprung for some new face stuff?”
“Well, I didn’t think about face stuff until I was curling my hair.”
I hadn’t worn makeup since I’d returned to college. I’d just swipe a little lipstick across my mouth—if I remembered. I found a compact of blush that still looked usable. I dabbed a little on my cheeks and liked the rosy glow it gave me. I found a compact of blue/green/purple/pink eye shadow and figured blue would go with my blue eyes and blue dress.
I swiped a streak across one lid and Percy yelped, “Hold on there, Missy! Whatcha planning on selling tonight?”
I laughed and said, “Well, what then? Purple? Green?”
“How about none of the above. Nothing screams tart like bright blue, green, or purple eyelids.
“Well, what about this?”
“What is it?”
“It’s an eyeliner.”
“I don’t know what that is. Show me what you do with it, and then I’ll tell you what I think of it.”
I lined my upper and lower lids, smudged it a little with my finger, turned to Percy and said, “Well?”
“Perfect. I like that.”
I found a mascara that had seen better days, but I was able to squeeze a little out of the semi-dried tube. My lashes were long, but they were rather light. I needed a touch of mascara on this special night to enhance my batting ability. I unwound my hair and ran a brush through it, letting my soft curls fall into a frame around my face. I was surprised by my appearance. I actually looked like an adult—an adult who cared. It felt good to be one of those.
My Coke was getting warm, so I took a swig. Percy challenged me to a burping contest, but I told him that wasn’t the mood I was trying to create.
He said, “You’ll be sorry,” and let out a long, low growly burp.
I said, “I’m glad I didn’t enter that contest. I could never have won.”
I brushed my teeth extra long before I headed for my closet to slip into my dress and heels. My heart thumped as I pulled the dress off the hanger and stepped into it. I watched myself in my full-length mirror as I pulled the zipper up my back and saw the dress take shape around my curves. I stepped into my heels and watched my calves come to life.
I teetered back to the bathroom to get Percy’s reaction. It was just what I wanted, what I needed.
His eyes got wide, and his mouth flew open. “Wow! Is that you?”
“Thanks, Percy; you always say the right thing.”
He stood, gave me a hug, and said, “Breathe.”
I breathed in his face. He sniffed and said, “Ah, minty fresh.”
I was ready.
I ran my pink lipstick around my mouth and grabbed my purse, and Percy walked me down the stairs and out to my car. I slid in and clutched the wheel.
“I’m so scared, Percy.”
“I know.”
“What if I screw it up?”
“Listen, Sis, if this is meant to be, there is nothing you can do bad enough to screw it up. You love this guy. You’ve loved him for a long time. Now, go let him love you back.”
He pecked me on the cheek and stepped back from the car.
I eased down the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror. I saw Percy, shoulders hunched and hands crammed down into his jeans pockets. He knew I needed parents to encourage me; to shop for special dresses with me; to buoy my spirits; to calm me when I was frightened; to kiss me on the cheek. I didn’t have any. So Percy did what he could to parent me the times I needed it most. He watched me as I pulled out onto September Road and disappeared.
Fifty-six
Three times I pulled to the side of the street and contemplated turning around and heading home. Why was I so frightened of something I had wanted for so long? Was I afraid that Ted wouldn’t turn out to be what I had dreamed he was? Was I afraid that I wouldn’t be what he was hoping I’d be? I considered backing out altogether and living the dream forever. I don’t know what gave me the courage to make it to the restaurant.
When I turned into Amedeo’s parking lot, I saw Ted standing at the entrance, looking in the opposite direction. I backed into a parking space near the exit, killed the engine, and sat, staring at my dream. He looked wonderful in khaki slacks, blue blazer, and open-collared shirt. When I had left him standing as long as I felt I could, I opened the door and let the crisp air revitalize me. I stepped out onto my high heels—I felt so tall and adult-like—and headed toward Ted.
I could tell he didn’t recognize me when he first glimpsed me. It was in the way his eyes lazily scanned from top to bottom. But I will remember forever the moment he realized he was looking at me. He froze, his eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. By the time I reached him, his face was flushed red.
“Lydia?”
“Yes?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Can’t believe what, Ted?”
Oh, I knew what he couldn’t believe, but I wanted to hear him say it. I was still jittery, but, all of a sudden, Ted’s manner gave me such confidence.
“Lydia, I’ve never seen you in anything but a sweatshirt. I didn’t know you were such a…well, tiny thing.”
I had to pinch back a grin. I was dying to know what he was really thinking. I was sure it wasn’t tiny.
“I’m sorry, Lydia. You’ve just caught me by surprise. I’ve always known you were beautiful; I just didn’t know how beautiful.”
“Thank you, Ted,” was all I could offer.
He continued to stare at me a little longer before he said, “I’m sorry; you must be cold. Let’s get inside. I’m ready to introduce you to the most delectable lasagna on earth.”
The exterior of Amedeo’s was most unassuming—a low, white stucco building with dark green roof and shutters. I wasn’t prepared for what waited for us inside. As we stepped through the door, we were assaulted by the University fight song. All night long the fight song and the alma mater took turns serenading the dinner crowd. Turns out those were the only selections on the juke box. And there wasn’t an inch of wall space that wasn’t covered with University memorabilia. There were autographed footballs and basketballs, lacrosse sticks, pictures of sports teams, autographed pictures of stars and politicians and journalists who had graduated from the University. There were pennants and pompoms, framed jerseys of noted athletes, megaphones, pictures of the University mascot. I couldn’t take it all in.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Just then, Anthony DeMarco, the owner, rushed forward, grabbed Ted in a bear hug, and bellowed, “Welcome, Professor! Who’s the beautiful young lady?”
Unaccustomed to having strangers call me beautiful, I felt myself blush. Sensing my discomfort, Anthony smiled, shook my hand, and said, “Your booth is waiting. Step this way.”
As we followed Anthony to our booth, Ted guided me with his hand on the
small of my back. I had dreamed of his touch, had imagined the tenderness. But my dreams fell short of the reality. It made my head spin, my knees weak. I was glad we didn’t have far to go to reach our booth.
Fifty-seven
Our waiter brought us menus, but Ted waved them away. “Won’t be needing those. We know what we want. We’ll take the lasagna and a glass of your good house red.”
I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I wanted to act like an adult, and that meant I would not be ordering a Coke. And since I’d already had five that day, I figured I’d reached my caffeine limit anyway. While we waited for our wine, Ted pointed out some of his favorite sports memorabilia tacked to the walls.
“That’s a picture of the ’67 basketball team taken the night we won the conference championship. I was a senior that year. We watched the final game on the TV in the rec room of our dorm. As soon as it ended, we all poured out of the buildings and started a bonfire on the quad. It was wild. Kids were throwing their furniture into the fire, and some were even jumping over the flames. One guy set his pants ablaze, and we had to roll him around on the grass to extinguish him. I can’t remember ever having more fun.”
I just couldn’t picture my sophisticated, intelligent professor jumping around a bonfire, behaving like a child.
Pointing to another photograph, he said, “Now, that guy with the great big smile is the finest defensive lineman ever to wear a University uniform. His name is…”
Ted stopped mid-sentence and said, “What are you smiling about?”
“I know that guy.”
“Well, everybody knows that guy.”
“No, I mean I really know him. He’s one of my dearest friends.”
“How in the world do you know La’treen Lavender?”
And until our meal arrived, I explained to Ted how I knew La’treen and entertained him with La’treen stories. He laughed until he cried, and I laughed and cried right along with him at the memory of my dear friend.
When I told Ted that La’treen had said, “If the judge say it’s yo kid, it’s yo kid,” he pounded his fist on the table and let out a peel of laughter that caught the attention of all the diners in the restaurant. But I understood. La’treen’s humor had that effect on everyone.
Getting the Important Things Right Page 23