Girlish

by Lara Lillibridge

  “Hey, I have to go to the eye doctor on Tuesday,” he asked. “Can you take me? I don’t know if they will be dilating my eyes.”

  “Sure, but you know I don’t have a car yet,” Girl said.

  “Just meet me at the shop,” he said. “I’ll drive us there, and you can drive us home.”

  William looked fragile in the deep black leather bucket seat of his car. He said he was five-foot-five, but Girl thought he was closer to five-foot-three. After his illness, he couldn’t have been much more than one hundred pounds, and his wrists were bony and sharp when he gripped the steering wheel.

  “Do you feel how the car just wants to go?” William asked. The silver 944 Porsche shook when it idled at red lights. She guessed that was what he was talking about.

  “I just got this one a few months before you started. It’s so much more powerful than my old 928. The 928 is the poor man’s Porsche.” William always pronounced it pore-shah, but Girl felt self-conscious and just said pore-sh. “Did you ever see my old car?”

  At the next stoplight William pulled out his wallet and showed her a picture of himself standing in front of a bright yellow car.

  “Nice!” she said. Girl liked it better than the one he had now, but didn’t say so. She wasn’t nearly as impressed with the silver 944 as he wanted her to be, but she tried to fake it. To her, the most important aspect of a car was its color.

  “Do you feel how smoothly it changes gears?” William said.

  “Yeah, but why would you get a sports car with an automatic transmission?” Girl had just learned to drive on a five-speed, and she scorned people who didn’t drive stick.

  “I had wanted a stick shift, but this was designed to be a luxury car. They mostly made automatics, so stick shifts are really hard to find used.” Girl must have looked skeptical, because he went on, “Actually, I get tired a lot, so I really need an automatic. I know how to drive stick, but some days I just can’t.”

  “Oh.” Girl looked out the passenger’s window and saw nothing but colors blurring by. “How long have you been sick?” Girl knew it wasn’t polite to ask, but she did anyway.

  “Almost five years. Since I was twenty.” William didn’t seem to mind talking about it.

  They pulled into the mall parking lot. Girl was surprised he didn’t go to a normal eye doctor in a separate office building like she did. Mother always said that mall places weren’t as good.

  “Can you tell I’m sick?” he asked quietly as they walked to Lens Crafters.

  “No, I don’t think so.” He was skinny, but not as skinny as their boss, Ryan. William wore long sleeves that covered his KS spots and had a little makeup on the one behind his ear.

  “I know I look gay, but I don’t want to look sick.”

  “No, you look good. I had no idea, really.” They sat side by side in a narrow hall outside the examination room.

  “There’re not many doctors that like to treat people with AIDS. That’s why I come here. We get certain eye problems.”

  Girl had thought they were just there because he wore glasses like she did. His eyes didn’t look infected or anything. Mother’s left eye was always goopy and swollen. William’s eyes looked fine behind his gold-framed bifocals.

  “I like your frames, by the way.”

  “Twenty-four karat gold—what else!”

  “Of course! What else?”

  “Do you mind driving?” William asked when he left the exam room. “I still get really tired.” He’d only been working half days since he got out of the hospital a month ago.

  Girl wasn’t really a confident driver, and it made her nervous to have him watch her. She peeled out of the parking lot, accidentally spinning the tires. Girl didn’t realize that William didn’t have anyone else to drive him. Walter had to work all day, and they couldn’t afford for him to take time off; the same with his other grown-up friends. Without family, Girl was all he had, even if she was only seventeen and totally inexperienced behind the wheel.

  “Sorry!”

  “Relax! It has a lot of power!” William laughed.

  William didn’t even say anything when Girl accidentally drove over the curb pulling into his driveway.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll schedule my doctor’s appointments for your days off. I like you taking me.” His face was pale and worn. Although he said he was Spanish, Tony always called him a Mexican. Either way, he was tanned and dark before he got sick. Now he was slightly yellow.

  “It’s okay. I don’t have anything else to do.”

  “And you should come to the birthday party I’m having for Tony next week! It’s going to be so fabulous. You can bring a friend if you want to. Tony’s turning forty, and can you believe his lover isn’t having a party for him? And all the guys at work—no one offered to host! And they say they are his friends, but not one of them offered to throw him a party. I said I’d do it, because someone has to do something. Have you ever had caviar?” Girl could tell he was waning, despite his enthusiasm about the party. She handed him the embossed leather Porsche key fob and he trudged slowly up to his red front door. He didn’t ask her in.

  Girl was still dating Jacob, but she didn’t really want to bring him to the party. It wasn’t his kind of thing. Although he had come into the shop once or twice to meet the guys, he was coolly arrogant and didn’t talk much. He said Ryan was the only one he liked; the rest were too flitty. Jacob was two years older than Girl and was born-again Christian. He didn’t approve of going to parties where alcohol was served, and besides, Fridays were his jam session with all his guitar friends. She couldn’t really expect him to miss the one night he looked forward to all week just to go to party where he didn’t know anybody.

  She had met a girl named Sharon recently, and Girl thought Sharon’d be fun to bring instead, but she was nervous to ask her. Sharon had graduated high school a semester early and already went to college. She was beautiful, too, with long red hair and perfect makeup. Sharon was one of those girls who could make jeans and a T-shirt look like high fashion. Still, she always smiled sincerely when she ran into Girl. They had talked about getting together sometime, but neither of them had followed up. Girl was too shy to go alone, though, so she invited Sharon the next time she spoke to her.

  “Hey, do you want to go to a gay party this weekend with me? For the flower shop,” she explained. “It’s one of the guy’s birthdays.”

  “I’d totally love to! I’ve never been to a gay party before! What are you wearing? Is it fancy?” Sharon asked Girl.

  “William is always fancy. I promised him I’d wear a dress.”

  “A dressy dress? Or a regular dress? I have a cocktail dress from when my dad took us on a cruise. It’s not like a prom gown or anything. I kind of like it.”

  “I don’t think I’m wearing a dressy dress. I have this white dress. Kinda tailored, with a button lacey thing on the shoulder. I’m wearing that. I don’t have a car, though.”

  “I’ll pick you up. I love to drive. It’s no big deal, really.” Sharon was nice to reassure her, like she could read Girl’s insecurity through the phone line.

  They arranged the details, and Girl was glad she asked Sharon. Girl hadn’t had that friend-chemistry in a long time, and she was kind of between best friends at the moment. Sharon was magnetic, smart, and funny. Girl wanted to be around her all the time.

  William lived in the top half of a double house off Park Avenue. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but when Sharon and Girl walked in it was like something from a designer magazine, with black leather sofas, gold lamé curtains, and shiny hardwood floors. It was the most stylish house Girl had ever been in. The dining room table was pushed against the wall and covered with a black linen tablecloth. Votive candles winked in round glass bowls among the trays of finger food William had displayed on risers of varying heights. Tiny black pearls of sturgeon caviar were mounded in a bowl nestled in ice. Gold Mylar balloons bumped against the ceiling, their curved edges touching, gold and
silver streamers hanging to the floor straight and nearly motionless, until you parted the waterfall to walk through the room, causing the gold foil spheroids to quiver and bob.

  “Oh my God, William! I love your place!” Girl said after they exchanged kisses.

  “Do you like my curtains?”

  “They are fabulous!” Girl said in an affected gay parody.

  “I made them myself! I just got yards of gold lamé and wrapped it around the pole and stuffed it with newspapers.”

  He left them to go mingle with newly arriving guests, and Sharon and Girl sank side by side into the buttery-soft black leather loveseat. Tony arrived, wearing black combat boots over ripped fishnet stockings, topped with a gold lamé thrift store prom dress that he was too wide to zip up. The zipper hung open in a V to his waist, exposing his back like a high fashion designer had drawn the dress to be worn in just that way. His frizzy black hair hung loose around his shoulders, and he had a cigarette in one hand and a cocktail in the other. He had replaced the silver hoop that normally adorned his left nostril with a two-inch blue horn that reached upward toward his temple, his expression mimicking an exuberant and slightly crazed Jack Nicholson from The Shining.

  “Who is this fabulous creature?” Tony asked Girl, taking Sharon’s hand and kissing it over and over. “Mwah! Mwah!” Tony made theatric kissing noises. Sharon threw her head back and laughed with her eyes closed. She was so beautiful; her eyeliner swooping, her lipsticked lips plump in the perfect shade of mauve. Girl wasn’t even jealous that Sharon was getting all the attention—Girl was just glad to be the one she came with.

  Girl had met most of the guests at the flower shop, but without the camouflage of her glasses no one recognized her. At work, Girl always wore her hair up in a bun and never wore makeup, her round gold frames more memorable than any of her features. Tonight Girl had shed her glasses and let down her hair. Her makeup wasn’t as skillfully applied as Sharon’s, but it was deftly done and subtle.

  “Hi, I’m Greg,” a man said, introducing himself to Girl, not realizing they had seen each other at least twice a month since she started working there.

  “I know you,” she said, a flirty tease in her voice.

  “You do? From where?”

  “The shop. I work for Ryan.”

  “You are the shopgirl?” He was incredulous. “Oh my God! I didn’t even recognize you!” Girl felt like the ugly duckling turned swan. She felt worthy to be seen with Sharon, even though she wasn’t equal to her in looks by a long shot. Together they were striking, attractive, fun, like best friends in movies always were.

  “I am dying to try caviar!” Sharon said. Girl didn’t tell her how leery she was of trying new foods, lest Sharon think she was uncool. Sharon heaped a spoonful onto a round of dry toast, and Girl tentatively spooned a smaller mound onto her cracker. “One, two three—bite!” Sharon counted off, and they popped them in their mouths at the same time.

  “Salty,” Girl said, trying not to show how awful she thought it was.

  “Kind of interesting, though, very posh,” Sharon said, nibbling the rest of hers. “I think I like it.” Girl was so glad she brought Sharon instead of her bump-on-a-log boyfriend, as the guys at the shop called him.

  “So are you two a couple?” a man Girl didn’t know asked.

  “No, we’re just friends,” she said.

  It surprised Girl that in this situation, sitting next to Sharon and surrounded by gay men, Girl didn’t mind the lesbian assumption. Here, it didn’t seem like a big deal, and if she was going to be someone’s girlfriend, there was no one prettier and cooler than Sharon.

  graduation

  “I don’t know if I can be happy with you, but I know I can be happy alone,” Jacob said. It was the day before graduation, and Girl had spent the morning lying in the sun in her new Hawaiian Tropics bikini in the backyard grass. The day before, she had gone for orientation and testing at Monroe Community College. She had asked Jacob to come over to talk, and had let him go first. Now she wished she had gone first, because although she had also concluded that their relationship needed to end, it still hurt to hear him say it.

  Jacob always had strong opinions on what Girl should and shouldn’t do: she shouldn’t wear black, she shouldn’t wear makeup, and she should never wear a bikini in front of other people, because that was the same as cheating. Girl had done everything she could to please him, but he still sank into a depression that he could not rise out of.

  “I think we should agree not to talk to each other for a month, so we can really see what it’s like to be apart,” he said.

  “Okay,” Girl said, although she thought that was a little extreme. “Let me get you your house key.”

  “No, keep it. I’ll feel better knowing you have it,” he answered. She watched him drive away, the CB radio antennas bouncing on his car.

  Girl woke up graduation morning with a stabbing sadness. Why couldn’t they have waited one more day, so she could have enjoyed graduation? She cried in the shower as she washed her hair, shampoo running into her mouth and making her spit. Girl put on her best dress, the white one with the lace and button corsage sewn on the left side. She carried her plastic-wrapped graduation gown cradled against her chest as she waited for the bus to take her to Rose-Marie’s house. Every month Girl bought an unlimited ride bus pass, and just like on school days, she walked the half-mile to the bus stop, rode downtown, and transferred to one of the Irondequoit bus lines.

  When she got to Rose-Marie’s house, Rose-Marie’s mother was taking pictures of Rose-Marie, her brother, who was also graduating, and her brother’s friends. Girl unwrapped her gown and put it on for a picture with Rose-Marie. Rose-Marie was sweet to invite her over—Girl hadn’t seen her much in the past few months, because Jacob didn’t like her. Girl had thrown her away, but Rose-Marie was still here, ready to give her a hug and a ride to school.

  “You are all wrinkled!” Rose-Marie’s mother said. Girl looked down. Her gown was covered in a grid of wrinkles from being folded in the package. “I steamed all of Timmy’s friends’ gowns,” her mother said, “and I would have done yours, too, if you had gotten here earlier. There isn’t time now.”

  Girl posed in her wrinkled gown with Rose-Marie in her smooth one. She was embarrassed that she hadn’t known enough to iron it ahead of time, sad that her mother was not a part of the day’s preparation. Mother, Stepmother, and Brother were taking her out afterward, so it wasn’t like they weren’t celebrating. It was just when she looked at Rose-Marie’s mother—so happy that she had made an appetizer buffet, like it was a real party—she wished that she belonged to someone who was excited, too. She wiped tears away with the back of her hand, hoping she didn’t smear her makeup.

  She and Rose-Marie had sat together for the rehearsal, and the stupid all-senior farewell dinner, and finally in the Eastman Theatre. Girl hoped someone would clap for her when she walked across the stage, but she wasn’t sure anyone would. She had abandoned all her friends for Jacob, and now he was gone. She tried to push all thoughts of him out of her head and just focus on this moment, but she couldn’t. She wished once again that he had just come tonight and broken up with her tomorrow.

  Afterward, her parents took her to Oscars, a fancy restaurant on Park Avenue, for dessert. A pair of person-sized gold Academy Award statues flanked the door. Mother gave her a box of roses that Father had sent. Mother and Stepmother gave her a jewelry box, and a card with a check.

  “Do you want to have a graduation party?” Mother asked. Girl was startled. She didn’t think Mother wanted to be around her at all, let alone have a party. “We could have it at the house,” Mother said. “And we could invite Marty, Shirley and Betty, all our friends.”

  “I’d love that,” Girl said softly. It was as if she was still a part of the family. She was afraid if she said more, she’d cry.

  “So when are you and Jacob getting married?” Brother asked her.

  “Oh,” Girl said, her eyelashes dripp
ing tears, “you didn’t hear? We broke up.” She had called her mother right away, and assumed Mother had told Brother. That’s how it usually worked in her family.

  “Yeah, Mother told me, but …”

  “Why would you say that then?” Girl wanted to stab him with her fork. “Is that supposed to be funny?” She had made sure not to wear her class ring on Christmas, on their anniversary, and on Valentine’s day, hoping Jacob would ask her to marry him. It had been her only dream of the future. She was going to college as backup plan—what she really wanted was to be a wife and mother, the sooner the better.

  “No, I just, ya know. I figured you’d get back together,” Brother said lamely. Girl ignored him for the rest of dinner.

  college and beyond

  college

  Mother had always stressed that having children was an “eighteen-year commitment,” and Stepmother had made it clear that once Girl graduated high school, she had to move out and either go to school full-time and live in the dorms, or work full-time and support herself. Now that Girl had graduated high school, it was too late for them to want her to come home, so although nothing was said, the tension suddenly lifted. She was back on their agenda, no longer an embarrassing runaway.

  Girl volunteered in Mother’s office once a week, in exchange for using Mother’s car to volunteer at a horseback riding program for children with cerebral palsy. Girl didn’t actually get to ride horses, as she had hoped, but instead walked them around in circles while the children clung to the saddle. Still, it was something to do. When she and Jacob broke up Girl had filled her schedule as much as possible. At the end of the summer, Mother took Girl on a long weekend road trip to Boston. It was the only vacation with just her mother she had ever had. They stayed at a bed-and-breakfast and complained to each other about the freezing room even though it was August. It was as if the fight had never happened. Mother and Stepmother had been paying Girl child support along with father, although Girl put their checks in the bank and never spent them. At the end of the summer she gave Mother one thousand dollars as a down payment on Mother’s old car.