The Sometimes Daughter

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The Sometimes Daughter Page 31

by Sherri Wood Emmons


  “Wow,” I said. “I can’t picture that.”

  “Speaking of Luce,” Lee Ann said, “how come she didn’t get arrested with you guys?”

  “She was long gone before the cops came,” I said. “She never even came in the house. She just made sure I went in.”

  “Bitch,” Lee Ann spat.

  I nodded.

  “I’ll bet she’s Piper’s favorite now,” she said. “Saint Luce, that’s probably what they call her at home.”

  I laughed. “Someday she’ll get caught,” I said. “She’s too stupid not to.”

  Once I’d cleaned the bathroom upstairs, we moved downstairs. Lee Ann pulled a chair from the kitchen and sat in the hall just outside the bathroom while I cleaned the toilet and sink, then mopped the floor.

  “Hey,” I said, “I’m kind of surprised your mom let you come over. Doesn’t she think I’m a bad influence?”

  Lee Ann laughed. “My mom loves you. She says you just need a mother.”

  “That’s because she hasn’t met my mom,” I said.

  “I don’t think she means your real mom,” she said.

  “She thinks I need Treva?” I laughed.

  “Actually, yeah,” Lee Ann said. “She likes Treva. She thinks Treva will be a good stepmom.”

  I rolled my eyes. Lee Ann laughed.

  When I’d finished cleaning, Treva inspected the bathrooms and pronounced them clean. She checked them off the list.

  “What’s next?” I asked, sighing again.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” she said, folding the list and putting it in her pocket. “It’s three o’clock and you’ve been working all day. You deserve a break.”

  “Thanks, Treva,” I said, smiling at her. I knew there were more items on the list. I wondered if Daddy would be mad at her for letting me off early.

  “See?” Lee Ann said as we turned on the stereo in my room. “She’s not so bad.”

  43

  I was grounded for another week, but thankfully, Daddy relented just in time for Heather’s party.

  “This doesn’t mean you can just go anywhere you want,” he said, holding my gaze. “I want to know where you are all the time, and who you’re with.”

  “Okay,” I said, returning his gaze.

  I knew he still didn’t trust me, and it made me sad and angry all at once. Sad because I’d disappointed him; angry because he didn’t know how hard I had tried to get out of the business. He didn’t understand.

  On Saturday, Lee Ann arrived at my house in the late afternoon to get ready for Heather’s party. She wore a light blue sweater that stretched tight across her chest and skin-tight jeans. I wore the outfit I had bought for my first date with Matt, hoping it might make him remember how much fun we’d had then. I even let Lee Ann mousse my hair and put makeup on me.

  “Home by eleven,” Daddy said before we left. “And if there is any pot or alcohol at that party, I expect you to come straight home.”

  “Okay.” I nodded.

  He kissed my forehead then. “Have fun,” he said softly.

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  Lee Ann drove her dad’s big Dodge Lancer, her eyes barely making it over the steering wheel. We parked on the street in front of Heather’s house.

  “Okay,” Lee Ann said. “We need a game plan. I’ll find Matt and get him to come out on the front porch. Then you come out like you’re looking for me. Okay?”

  I nodded. My stomach was doing flip-flops.

  “So, you just stay in the living room, near the door, so you can see when we go out. Okay, let’s go.” She applied one last coat of lip gloss and we walked to the house and rang the doorbell.

  “Hey!” Heather smiled as she opened the door. “Come on in!”

  Dire Straits’s “Money for Nothing” blared from the stereo. Some people were dancing, but most were sprawled across chairs and couches, drinking Cokes and eating chips and salsa. I sat on a couch beside Sarah. She’d been a lot nicer to me since our arrest together. She’d managed to convince her parents that the entire episode was Trent’s fault, and she and I were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I backed her up. We were friends again.

  “Hey,” she said, “I think Matt’s in the kitchen.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Okay.”

  “You guys still on the outs?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry.” She put her arm around my shoulder. “Did you hear about Trent?”

  “Military school, yeah, Lee Ann told me. Crazy, right?”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “But maybe it’ll do him some good.”

  “Maybe.” My eyes scanned the room for Lee Ann. She was nowhere to be found.

  I ate some chips and sipped a tepid Coke. The ice bowl was empty, but no one else seemed to mind.

  A few minutes later, Lee Ann came into the room. She stood a moment until she spotted me, then came and sat on the arm of the couch beside me.

  “I couldn’t find him,” she said under her breath. She glanced at Sarah, but she had her back to us and was talking to a guy from our geometry class.

  “Sarah said he’s here,” I said.

  “Well, I don’t know where,” she said. “I looked all over.”

  I breathed in deeply. Maybe he wasn’t coming, after all.

  Lee Ann and I wandered from the living room to the dining room and kitchen, talking to people we knew. Then we wandered back to the living room, where the stereo now featured Madonna singing “Crazy for You.”

  “Hey!” Steve, the boy Lee Ann had been dating for three months now, touched her shoulder. “Let’s dance.”

  She glanced at me and I smiled. “Go ahead,” I said. “I’m okay.”

  I watched them merge into the crowd of swaying couples, her arms around his neck. I wondered where Matt could be. I wished so much we could be dancing like that.

  “Hey, Judy.” Luce Watkins was at my elbow. “Have you seen upstairs?”

  I shook my head.

  “You should go see it,” she said. “Heather’s room is really rad.”

  I shook my head again. I didn’t care much for Luce these days.

  “Come on,” she said, taking my arm and pulling me toward the stairs. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Whatever,” I said, letting myself get pulled along. I didn’t have anything better to do anyway.

  We walked up a hallway to a closed door. Luce turned the knob quietly, then opened the door and turned on the light in one swift, fluid movement.

  “Hey!”

  My heart dropped into my stomach. Matt’s voice was startled. He lay on a bed with Tricia McDaniels, her blouse halfway unbuttoned. He froze when he saw me, then looked away.

  “Oh.” Tricia giggled. “Hi, Judy.”

  I turned and ran down the hallway, then back down the stairs and out the front door. I stopped on the porch and leaned against the railing. For one brief moment, I thought I might faint. Then I just felt sick. I gripped the rail tightly, willing my stomach to settle down.

  “You okay?”

  I turned to see Patrick St. Clair in the doorway.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “You don’t look fine.” He closed the door behind him and came to stand beside me. I didn’t know Patrick. He was a senior and on the student council. I had seen him at football games and school assemblies, but I’d never actually talked to him.

  “I’m okay,” I repeated.

  “Okay,” he said. But he didn’t go back inside. He just stood there beside me.

  “I saw you come out here,” he said. “You looked kind of ... upset.”

  I said nothing. I just wished he would go away and leave me alone.

  “Who did you come with?” he asked.

  “Lee Ann Dawson,” I said.

  “I’ll go get her.”

  He walked back into the house. A minute later Lee Ann appeared.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Patrick St. Clair said you’re out here and you look like you’re
about to cry.”

  I leaned into her and began to cry.

  “Oh, Judy, it’s okay. What happened?”

  “I went upstairs,” I sobbed. “Luce dragged me up there to see Heather’s room. And Matt was in there with Tricia McDaniels.”

  “What?”

  “They were making out.”

  I cried for a while longer while she patted my shoulder and fumed.

  “You know they set that up on purpose,” she hissed.

  “Matt wouldn’t do that,” I said.

  “Not him,” she said. “Luce and Tricia. Why else would she make you go upstairs? Tricia got Matt to go up with her, and then Luce made sure you saw them.”

  “He didn’t have to go with her,” I said.

  “No,” she agreed. “He’s acting like a dickhead, if you ask me. I mean, my God ... Tricia McDaniels is a total skank.”

  We sat on the front step for a while, until we were both shivering.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling my hand, “let’s go back inside.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to see Luce or Tricia or, God forbid, Matt.

  “Yeah,” she said, “come on. Let’s go in and find you someone to dance with.”

  “I don’t want to dance.”

  “I don’t care if you want to or not,” she said firmly. “You’re gonna dance with someone. You’re gonna dance slow with someone. And when Matt sees it, he can eat your shorts!”

  We walked into the living room and I looked around quickly, but I didn’t see Matt or Luce.

  “Here,” Lee Ann said, pulling me along, “you should dance with Patrick St. Clair.”

  “What?” I stopped still. “I don’t even know him.”

  “You do now,” she said.

  She walked right up to Patrick and said, “Thanks for being so nice to my friend.”

  “It’s okay.” He smiled at her and then at me.

  “Now, if you really want to help her, you should dance with her.”

  My cheeks burned and I thought I might sink into the ground from sheer embarrassment.

  “Okay,” he said. “Why not?”

  He walked toward me as the stereo began “Separate Lives.”

  “Shall we?” He took my hand and pulled me toward him, one arm around my lower back.

  I felt awkward and stupid at first, but finally I let myself relax and move to the music. As I leaned into his chest, I saw Lee Ann heading upstairs. Oh Lord, I thought, what the hell is she doing now?

  A minute later, she reappeared on the stairs, followed shortly by Matt. I watched him as he stopped on the stairs and stared at me dancing with Patrick. For a minute he just stood there, watching. I moved closer to Patrick and felt his hand slip from my lower back to my bottom. I tilted my head back and smiled at him. When he leaned in to kiss me, I closed my eyes. When I opened them again and glanced toward the stairs, Matt was gone.

  Good, I thought. I hoped I had hurt him as much as he’d hurt me.

  “Hey,” Patrick said softly in my ear. “You want to get out of here?”

  Honestly, I did want to leave. I wanted to go home and cry.

  “I can’t,” I said. “I came with Lee Ann.”

  “She won’t mind,” he said. “I’ll tell her.”

  He walked to Lee Ann and said something to her; she smiled and waved at me.

  “It’s cool,” he said. “She said to have fun.”

  I followed him from the party to his car, a bright red Toyota. It reminded me of Treva’s.

  “I live on University,” I said as he started the ignition.

  “Okay,” he said. He turned to smile at me. “But you don’t want to go home yet, do you? It’s still early.”

  It was only nine o’clock.

  “I promised my dad I wouldn’t go anywhere except the party and then home.”

  “He won’t know,” Patrick said. “Come on, it’s early. Let’s get something to eat.”

  “Okay,” I said. I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t even want to go with him. I wasn’t hungry. I just wanted to go home. But ... okay. Matt was probably with Tricia now. Why shouldn’t I go out with someone else?

  He pulled into the driveway of a big house on the Parkway.

  “Come on,” he said. “My folks are out.”

  I followed him into the house and stared at the two-story entryway.

  “Wow,” I said. “This is nice.”

  “It’s okay.” He shrugged and took my jacket, hanging it in a closet.

  “You want something to drink?”

  “Okay.” I followed him into the kitchen.

  He pulled a can of Coke from the fridge and poured it into two glasses. Then he reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of rum. He poured a generous splash into each glass before I could say a word. Finally, he dropped an ice cube into each and handed one to me.

  Aside from a taste of champagne on New Year’s Eve with Daddy, I’d never had alcohol before. I didn’t want to admit that, though. I didn’t want to look stupid. I took a small sip. It’s wasn’t bad.

  “Here,” he said, taking my hand. “We can watch music videos, if you want.”

  He turned MTV on and we took off our shoes and sat on the couch, his arm around my shoulder, sipping rum and Coke.

  I felt strangely disembodied, like I was watching myself sitting there with a boy I had just met, drinking rum and watching television, as if I did this all the time.

  Then he kissed me, so I kissed him back. When he pulled my shirt off, I raised my hands to make it easier. When he kissed my chest, I even arched my back a little, like I’d seen women do in the movies. And the whole time, I was watching myself like a movie, wondering who this girl was sitting in her bra in a senior boy’s house.

  Patrick took off his shirt and then reached around my back to unclasp my bra.

  “Wait,” I said.

  He stopped and looked at me, smiling.

  “I never ...”

  “I know,” he said. “I can tell.”

  He unhooked my bra with one hand, pulling it from my shoulders.

  “You’re really pretty,” he said, kissing my neck and shoulders. Meanwhile, his hands were unbuttoning my jeans.

  I let him pull me up to stand, so he could pull my jeans down. I stepped out of them and sat back down to take off my socks.

  He took off his pants and socks, and then pulled down his boxer shorts. His erection was huge.

  “Oh,” I said. That was all. Just, “Oh.”

  He leaned me back on the couch and pulled my panties off, dropping them to the floor. And then he was over me, lowering himself onto me. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see his face, his chest, didn’t want to know what was happening. I cried out when he entered me; the pain shot through me like an electrical current.

  I willed myself not to cry, squeezed my eyes tight, waiting for it to be over. Was Matt doing this with Tricia? Is this how it was supposed to be? Would it ever be over?

  And finally, it was over. I opened my eyes as Patrick pulled back, limp and wet, and smiled down at me. I turned my head away, afraid I would throw up.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.

  “Down the hall,” he said, pulling on his boxers.

  I grabbed my clothes and ran toward the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I knelt in front of the toilet, waiting to throw up. But eventually my stomach calmed. So I got up to dress and caught sight of myself in the mirror above the sink. Mascara had smudged beneath my eyes, my moussed hair spiked in all directions. Between my legs blood and ... stuff smeared. I didn’t even look like me. I looked like ... a slut. Just like my mother, I thought bitterly. Just like Mama.

  I dressed and walked back to the room where Patrick was buttoning his shirt.

  “Do you want another drink?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I’d better go home.”

  We didn’t talk as he drove me home. He did not walk me to the door, just leaned over in the front seat and kis
sed me.

  “I’ll see you,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  I was inside before I realized he hadn’t even asked for my phone number.

  “How was the party?” Treva was sitting on the couch beside Daddy, her hand resting on his knee.

  “It was okay.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  “I guess so.”

  I walked up to my room and got undressed, shoving my panties into the trash can beneath some tissues. Then I put on my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed. After a very long time, I cried myself to sleep.

  44

  “Seriously? You had sex?” Lee Ann stared at me, her mouth agape.

  “Yeah,” I said. I tried to say it casually, but it came out wobbly, just the same.

  “You had sex with Patrick St. Clair,” she repeated. “Stop it, Rufus.” She swatted at the dog chewing on her toes.

  “Yeah, I did.” I bent down to scoop Rufus up, scratching his ears and letting him lick my face.

  “I can’t believe you did it.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “You and Steve do it.”

  “Well, yeah,” she said. “But we’re a couple. I mean, we’ve been together three months.”

  “Yeah, but you were doing it almost as soon as you started going out.”

  I knew this because Lee Ann told me everything.

  “Yeah, but we were dating.” She said this as if it mattered, and I guess to her it did.

  I shrugged.

  “So, how was it?”

  I shrugged again. “It was okay.”

  “Did you bleed?”

  “Yeah.” In fact, I still felt sore down there. I didn’t tell Lee Ann that.

  “Was he ... nice?”

  “I guess so.”

  She simply looked at me for a while, then she took my hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Her wide blue eyes held mine.

  “What for?” I asked.

  “It was your first time. It should have been with someone you love. It should have been special.”

  I shrugged again. “Whatever.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, sitting up straight. “Did he use a rubber?”

  I shook my head.

  “Jesus Christ, Judy!” She looked at me, aghast. “You didn’t use any protection?”

  I shook my head again.

 

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