“We’re going to listen to albums,” I said. “Where’s Rufus?”
“I put him out back,” Daddy said.
“He had a little accident,” Treva said.
“On Treva’s shoes,” Daddy said, pointing to a pair of white tennis shoes sitting by the door.
“But it’s cold outside,” I said.
“He’s okay,” Daddy said.
“I’m going to take him up to my room.”
Lee Ann followed me to the kitchen, where Rufus was scratching frantically at the back door. I scooped him up from the back porch.
“Poor baby,” I said, snuggling him close. He was shivering all over.
“He’s so cute,” Lee Ann said, scratching his ears.
“I can’t believe they left him outside. It’s so cold out.” I squeezed the puppy so hard he let out a small yelp.
“Yeah,” Lee Ann agreed. “Just because he peed on her shoes. Geesh.”
I carried Rufus up to my room, Lee Ann following with the albums and the chips. Once we settled in, she began feeding chips to the dog.
“Look.” She smiled. “He likes tortilla chips.”
“Don’t give him too many. I don’t want him to throw up.”
We turned on the stereo and began singing along. “Vacation, all I ever wanted. Vacation, had to get away.” Lee Ann danced around the room with Rufus in her arms while I flopped on the bed. “Vacation, meant to be spent alone.”
“Judy!” Daddy’s voice called up the stairs, loud enough so that we could hear him above the music. “Turn that music down, please.”
Lee Ann’s eyes widened as I reached for the volume on the stereo. “Wow,” she said, “I never heard your dad yell before.”
She dropped onto the bed beside me, Rufus in her lap.
“He does sometimes,” I said.
“But never over your music.” She shook her head. “Who is that woman, anyway?”
I shrugged. “I never saw her before,” I said.
“Do you think they’re dating?”
I shrugged again, then shook my head. “No, Daddy would’ve told me if he was dating someone.”
She looked at me doubtfully.
“Really,” I insisted. “Daddy tells me everything.”
“Well, he didn’t tell you about Treva.” She drew out the name in a high, fake voice. “Oh, Judy, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
We both giggled.
“Probably she’s just a client,” I said. “Someone he’s helping.”
“Maybe she murdered someone,” Lee Ann whispered. “Or stole something.”
“I doubt my dad would have a murderer over for wine,” I said.
“She’s really pretty,” Lee Ann said, feeding Rufus another chip.
“I guess so.” I sat for a minute listening to the Go-Go’s. “She’s not as pretty as my mom.”
By the time Lee Ann left, Treva was gone and Daddy was washing the wineglasses in the kitchen.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said, smiling as I opened the fridge. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Let’s make spaghetti,” I said, pulling out onions and sausage.
I chopped onions while he browned the meat.
“So, what did you think of Treva?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“She thought you were really nice,” he said.
I shrugged again.
“Why was she here?” I asked as I pulled out a pan to boil water for the pasta.
“She’s a friend,” Daddy said. “I met her a couple months ago at a benefit and we’ve gone out a couple of times.”
I stared at him, holding the pan before me like a shield. “You’re dating her?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it dating, exactly. It’s just been a couple times. She’s a friend,” he repeated.
“Oh.”
I poured water into the pan and set it on the burner.
“She’s a nurse at the hospital,” Daddy said. He tasted the spaghetti sauce, then added oregano. “She works in the maternity wing, helping deliver babies.”
“Oh.”
I watched the water in the pan, waiting for it to boil.
“A watched pot never boils,” Daddy said. That was something Grandma said a lot, and not just about cooking.
I set the table, eyeing him now and then when I thought he wasn’t looking. He was smiling at the sauce.
“She’s a lot younger than you,” I said.
“A few years, yeah,” he said. “She’s twenty-five.”
Daddy was thirty-two. That seemed like a lot younger to me.
“Does she have kids?”
“No,” he said. “She’s never been married. She paid her own way through nursing school and has an apartment near the hospital.”
“Oh.”
I wasn’t sure what I thought about Treva being in our house. But I was impressed that she had her own apartment.
“I was thinking,” Daddy said as he put the spaghetti into the now-boiling water. “Maybe I should ask her to join us tomorrow night?”
On New Year’s Eve, Daddy and I always watched the Dick Clark countdown on television. At midnight, he opened a bottle of champagne and poured a glass for himself and a tiny bit into a glass for me, filling the rest with orange juice. Then we’d toast and make our predictions and resolutions for the year. We’d done it ever since we moved into our house. We’d never had anyone else join us.
“What do you think?” he asked. I could feel him watching me as I poured milk into our glasses.
“Whatever,” I said, shrugging.
“And you can ask Lee Ann to spend the night, if you want.”
I said nothing, just returned the milk to the refrigerator.
“Would you like that?”
I turned to look at him. He was smiling at me, looking hopeful.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll ask Lee Ann.”
And so we welcomed 1983 watching Dick Clark with Treva and Lee Ann. Daddy and Treva sat on the couch, sipping champagne long before midnight. Lee Ann and I sprawled on the floor, playing with Rufus, eating popcorn, and studiously ignoring Daddy and Treva.
As the countdown began, Daddy poured a bit of champagne into glasses for Lee Ann and me, then filled the glasses with orange juice. At midnight, I turned to toast with him, but his eyes were on Treva, smiling at her as they clinked glasses. Then, as I watched, he leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth.
“Hey!” Lee Ann shouted as my glass dropped into her lap, soaking her with orange juice.
The glass rolled from her lap onto the floor and shattered.
“Uh-oh,” Treva said, smiling.
Daddy went to the kitchen for a towel.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Treva said to me. “Accidents happen.”
Lee Ann drained her glass and smacked her lips. “I gotta go change,” she said, dabbing her pants with the towel Daddy handed her.
“I’ll go, too,” I said, following her from the room.
“Judy?” Daddy’s voice followed us up the stairs. “Don’t you want to toast?”
I didn’t answer, just stomped up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lee Ann asked as she stripped off her wet jeans.
“Nothing,” I said, dropping onto my back on the bed. Rufus yipped and jumped, trying to reach me. I scooped him up and sat him on my stomach.
“You want to go back down?” Lee Ann asked. She had put on her pajama pants—bright pink with red hearts that contrasted starkly with her green and yellow striped sweater.
“No,” I said. “Let’s just hang out up here.”
“Okay.” She put a John Cougar album on the stereo and began bouncing around the room to “Jack and Diane.”
“Did you know John Cougar is from Indiana?” she asked.
I nodded, scratching Rufus’s soft ears.
“He lives in Bloomington,” Lee Ann continued. “Maybe if we go to IU for college, we’ll meet him. Maybe
he’ll put us in one of his music videos.”
Lee Ann was nothing if not optimistic.
She dropped onto the bed beside me, breathing heavily from her dancing. Rolling onto her side, she propped her head on her arm and asked again, “What’s wrong?”
I said nothing for a minute, but she just kept waiting. Lee Ann was also persistent.
“Didn’t you see them kiss?” I finally said.
“Who? Your dad and Treva?”
“Duh, who else? Right at midnight, they kissed.”
Rufus was squirming to be released. I let go of him and he ran to the bottom of the bed and began chewing on my sock.
“I didn’t see that,” Lee Ann said. Then she smiled. “That’s nice for your dad.”
“Humph.” I didn’t think it was nice at all.
“Seriously, Judy, it’s nice for him. He’s been alone ever since your mom left. She got married, but he’s been all alone.”
“He hasn’t been alone,” I said. “He has me.”
She laughed, then stopped when I glared at her.
“Okay, you know what I mean. He hasn’t had a girlfriend or anything since your mom. I bet he’s lonely.”
“Well, he could’ve waited to kiss her until I wasn’t around.”
Lee Ann laughed again and shoved me with her elbow. “Oh, God, Judy, get over it. My mom and dad kiss all the time, and you don’t see me throwing a fit.”
“But that’s your mom and dad,” I said. “She’s not my mom. She’s ... nothing.”
“Well,” Lee Ann said, rolling onto her back, “I think she’s nice. And she’s really pretty.”
She was right about that. Treva was pretty, in a Kewpie doll kind of way. But she wasn’t as pretty as Mama.
“Hey, did you hear who Heather Johnson is dating?” Lee Ann’s conversations often veered from one topic to another, with little to no apparent connection. “Kevin Harding! Isn’t that gross?”
25
Over the next few weeks, Treva became a fixture in our household. Sometimes she cooked dinner for Daddy and me. Sometimes Daddy cooked for us. Sometimes we ordered Chinese takeout or pizza. Always, she stayed long after I went to bed.
Treva was nice enough, but she was pretty annoying. She was always perky, like an overgrown cheerleader, for one thing. I never heard her raise her voice or sound angry. She was always smiling. Sometimes I wanted to say something hurtful to her, just to see if I could wipe that smile off her face. But I didn’t.
Daddy seemed happy when she was around. He smiled a lot and sang silly songs while we washed dishes or folded laundry. Lee Ann was right about that, I guess. Daddy had been lonely. And now he wasn’t. I tried to be happy about that, but mostly I just felt annoyed.
Still, life in the eighth grade was going pretty well. Lee Ann, Vernita, and I were all on the student council, so we got to help decide on the decorations for the Valentine’s Day dance. Lee Ann was going to the dance with Michael Day, and she was excited about it. Vernita and I did not have dates. We would go together and help with the refreshments.
A week before Valentine’s Day, Treva came for dinner. Daddy had made chili. Treva had brought a salad and bread.
“So, what are you wearing to the dance, Judy?” Treva asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably my blue dress.” I had only three dresses. The blue was the nicest.
“Oh, you need a new dress for a dance!” Treva nodded her head at me emphatically. “It’s your first dance, right? You have to have a new dress.”
“Would you like a new dress, honey?” Daddy was looking at me now, smiling.
“It’s okay, Daddy. I can wear my blue one.”
“No, it’s not okay!” Treva was nodding at Daddy now. “She has to have a new dress for her first dance. In fact”—now she turned back to me—“I’ll go shopping with you this weekend, if you want. We can go to the mall. L. S. Ayres has beautiful dresses. What do you say?” She was smiling at me, still nodding.
“That’s a great idea,” Daddy said, covering Treva’s hand with his own. “I’m sure you’ll do a much better job helping her find something than I would.”
“Well, it’s a girl thing,” Treva said, smiling at him. “So”—she turned back to me—“how about Saturday morning? I can pick you up at ten, and after we find a dress, we can have lunch.” She seemed very pleased with the idea.
“Judy, what do you say?” Daddy was watching me closely.
Well, what I wanted to say was, “Hell no!” I did not want to go shopping with Treva. I did not need her help picking out clothes. And I sure as hell did not want to spend a whole morning with her, and then have lunch.
Instead, I mustered a smile. “Sure,” I said. “That sounds like fun.”
“You are so lucky!” Lee Ann said when I told her about it. “My mom took me to Sears for my dress. God! L. S. Ayres has such great stuff. And Treva has really good taste.”
I slouched on the couch at her house, watching as she ironed clothes. Lee Ann’s mom believed that everything should be ironed—even jeans and underwear. We didn’t iron anything at my house. Daddy and I did laundry every Sunday, and we hovered over the dryer waiting for it to stop so we could pull out the clothes before they wrinkled.
“I like the dress you got,” I said. “It looks nice on you.”
“It’s okay.” She sighed. “But I’ll bet someone else shows up wearing the same thing. Everyone shops at Sears. But, man, I bet you get something completely original.”
And that, in a nutshell, was what I was afraid of. I did not want anything completely original. I wanted to just blend in, like everyone else. God only knew what kind of outlandish dress Treva would want me to buy.
“Where are you going for lunch?” Lee Ann asked, folding a newly ironed T-shirt neatly into the laundry basket.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe she’ll take you to Farrell’s!”
Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor and Restaurant was Lee Ann’s favorite place at the mall. In addition to huge hamburgers, chili dogs, and fries, they served an enormous assortment of ice cream desserts.
“God, I wish I could go,” she said, pulling another shirt from the pile.
“Me too,” I said, and I meant it. Lee Ann liked Treva and could talk to her. I never knew what to say when Treva was around.
On Saturday morning, promptly at ten, Treva knocked at the front door.
“Hey, you,” I heard her purr to Daddy when he answered the door.
“Hey, yourself,” he said softly.
I watched from the top of the stairs as they kissed, then cleared my throat loudly.
“Hey, Judy!” Treva’s voice was bright, like a new penny. “Are you ready to go?”
I shrugged and clomped down the stairs.
“You all have fun,” Daddy said, kissing my forehead and then Treva’s. “And don’t break the bank!”
“Don’t worry, Kirk.” Treva laughed. “I know how to shop on a budget.”
We climbed into Treva’s little Toyota and pulled away from the house. I switched on the radio, so we wouldn’t have to talk.
“Billie Jean is not my lover,” Treva sang along with the radio. Jeez, even with music on, she couldn’t be quiet.
“So, do you have any ideas about what you want?”
I shrugged my shoulders again.
“Oh, come on, you must have something in mind. Long or short?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
“Well, I’m thinking short,” she said. “Save the long dresses for prom.”
“Whatever.”
“What do you think about something a little out there?” she asked. “Maybe a short skirt with a big blouse and a great big belt?”
I simply stared at her.
“Okay, maybe not,” she said. “A nice dress then, maybe something in red, to bring out your dark hair.”
I said nothing. I couldn’t imagine wearing a red dress to the dance, or anywhere else, for that matter.
&n
bsp; At the mall, we wandered through the department store, Treva pulling dress after dress from the racks and me rejecting each and every one. Finally, she put her hand on her hip and said, “Okay, look. I’m really trying here. And I think you’re not. Do you want to get a dress? Because if you don’t, let’s just go home.”
It was the first time I’d ever heard her lose her cool. I felt just a little bit proud of myself. Then I thought of what Daddy would say if we came home without a dress, and Treva telling him I’d had a bad attitude.
“I want a dress,” I said.
“Okay, then, what do you want?”
I gazed around at the racks and racks of dresses, overwhelmed. “I don’t know.”
“Well, who at school dresses the way you like? Whose style do you like?”
“Well, Casey Cochran dresses nice.”
“Okay, what kind of stuff does she wear?”
“She wears ... um, I don’t know. Nice stuff.”
Treva sighed. “Does she dress preppy? Or valley girl? Or like Madonna?”
I stared at her again. Madonna? Seriously?
“I guess she’s just kind of casual. You know, like skirts and tights. And she has these cute boots.”
“Okay.” Treva smiled. “Now we have some direction. Are the skirts long or short?”
“Longer,” I said. “And she has this little hat she wears.”
“Got it,” Treva said. “We’re definitely in the wrong store. Come on.”
She led me back to the car and we drove to Broad Ripple, a neighborhood I had heard of but never actually been in. Small shops lined narrow streets that were filled with college-age kids.
“Here,” Treva said, pulling into a parking spot in front of a store called Grateful Threads. Inside I stopped and stared. It was like stepping back to the years when Mama lived with us. Broomstick skirts, tie-dyed tops, and woven shawls hung from the walls. And there, in the back, I saw a pair of granny boots even better than the ones Casey Cochran wore.
I tried on several outfits before settling on a green, ankle-length skirt, an off-white gauze blouse, pink tights, and the beautiful black boots. As I stood staring at myself in the mirror, Treva plopped a small, crushed velvet cap on my head.
“Perfect,” she proclaimed. “Now you need some jewelry.”
The Sometimes Daughter Page 18