by Suzzy Roche
“What you did for Alice,” whispered Steph, as she collected her cookie tin and prepared to take her family home.
“Well, it’s about time something good happened to her,” said Clarisse. “I really didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”
Clarisse didn’t quite believe that and hoped Steph might take a minute to point out that none of the others had been willing to step in on Alice’s behalf. But Steph said nothing more, and despite the endless stream of compliments, Clarisse felt lonely and unappreciated. Still in her Marilyn Monroe dress, she stood by the punch bowl wolfing down pumpkin cake, consumed by disappointment and humiliation. What had she thought? Luke Spoon would run away with her?
Across the room, Luke’s wife idly ran her fingers through her son’s hair. Soon those fingers would be all over Luke, like his had been all over Clarisse. And now Lil O’Brien was sidling up to both of them, and Luke was waving his hands in some expression of thought. Clarisse could tell they’d all made friends. Dammit. Poor Jim O’Brien. She envisioned him slouched in his chair in front of the TV, popping Cheez-Its in his mouth.
But then Lil headed across the floor, stepping among the fallen paper cups and napkins, to speak to Clarisse. “Thank you,” she said. “Alice will never forget this.”
Clarisse’s eyes tightened slightly. “I’m sure you’d do the same for my girls.” But Clarisse knew it wasn’t true, and she sensed that Lil couldn’t say goodnight fast enough. “Why don’t you let Alice stay with us one more night. I promised them an ice cream party if they won.”
The girls, as if on cue, skipped over to their mothers.
“Mom,” said Alice. “I won!”
“You did!” said Lil.
“Was I good?” The bobby pins had loosened on her wig, and strands of her real hair were falling in her face.
“You were great, Alice. I laughed out loud.”
“Mrs. McCarthy said we could have an ice cream party when we get home.”
Lil flinched at Alice’s use of the word home.
“Well, gee, an ice cream party. But … I thought you and I would go home and see Dad. He’ll be so excited.”
“No!” said Dawn. “Why? Alice! Why can’t you come with us?” She glared at her mother. “You said!”
“Pleeeease,” begged Fawn. “We can have chocolate sauce, all we want!”
Alice looked to her mother. “It would be fun to have an ice cream party. Mom, can I come home tomorrow?”
Lil didn’t have the heart to say no.
“Don’t worry, we’ll bring her home first thing in the morning. I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m pooped. I’ve got to get these kids home and get myself out of this dress,” said Clarisse.
Alice walked away in the jumble of Clarisse’s family, and though Lil didn’t like it, she knew it was only for one more night. Things would get better now. She sat on the stairs and watched as Clarisse and Frank gathered the children’s coats. Alice turned back and waved just as they slipped out the door.
SISTER ANNUNCIATA had taken Felix upstairs to her room to pack his things. She flopped his open suitcase on her bed.
“You do the shirts and I’ll take care of the pants.”
They folded the clothes quietly, until Felix spoke. “Do I have to get out of my costume?”
“The party’s over,” she said.
“I wish you didn’t have to be so grumpy all the time,” he said.
“Am I being grumpy?”
Felix continued to fold the shirts. Once the clothes were in the suitcase, Sister A. went around the room to check for anything that might have been left behind. She pulled down the covers on his cot and lifted his pillow.
“Look here,” she said. “The rock.” She picked up the box and set it on the dresser.
“But that’s mine. Are you taking it back?” he asked.
He sat down on the cot with his head drooped, too tired to do battle with her. “You once told me you liked me.
She lifted her hand to adjust her eye patch. She was tired, too.
“Everything about me is not like other kids,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, sitting down on the cot next to him. She took his hand and put it in her lap. “In answer to your question about whether I like you or not … the truth is, yes, I like you very much.”
He looked up at her, surprised. “Sister, would you let me see your eye socket?”
“For heaven’s sake, Felix, why in the world you want to see it is a mystery to me. But, all right. Have a peek.” With difficulty, she drew the elastic band over her head and removed the patch. Felix stared. Where the eye should have been there was only rough skin, and a scar. “Oh, no,” he said, sucking air through his teeth. “I feel bad for you. May I touch it?”
“If you must.”
He reached his hand up to her eye, and carefully moved his fingers over the area, as a doctor might do.
“It feels like lips that were sewn together,” said Felix.
“Interesting,” she said.
Sister Annunciata closed her other eye. The gentle roving of his fingers was oddly comforting.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No. Not anymore,” she said.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You know, Felix, I’ve never quite figured out how to describe what happened. But there are worse things than losing an eye.”
“It’s pretty bad,” said Felix, taking a moment to think about that, as he continued to touch her scar gently. When he was done, he stood before her, and studied her missing eye from further away.
“You have taken care of the rock,” she said. “You kept your promise. Now I’m sure you’re trustworthy. Here, pack it with your things.” She reached for the red velvet box and put it in his palm, closing her hand around his. “You’d better run downstairs and find your parents. You don’t want them to forget you, now. Go.”
Felix rushed to the door, but then stopped and turned back. “My mother said we’re moving back to New York City.”
“I guess so,” said Sister A.
“She said you are my grandma. She said you are her mother. Is that true?”
“Did she?” Sister A. looked away for a moment. “Well, maybe it’s hard to believe, but yes, I guess I am your grandma.”
Felix shook his head. “Everything about me is unusual. Why?”
“Join the club, Felix. It’s a mystery.”
“Will you ever come and visit us?” he asked, idly turning the doorknob back and forth.
Sister A., slouching now, just looked at him, holding her eye patch in her hand.
“Should I just leave now?” he asked.
“Oh Lord. Let’s think about that,” she said.
Felix shrugged, embarrassed that he’d asked.
“Come,” she said.
He walked slowly toward her and she put her arms around him. Soon he was cloaked in her robes, and it was warm in there, almost hot. He felt her hands move up and down his back, and she rested her chin on the top of his head. For a moment he thought it was possible that Sister A. was God’s cave. It made sense to him in a way.
“Am I ever going to see you again?” he asked.
“I hope so, Felix, but for now goodnight,” she said, releasing him.
Felix took a long look at her.
“Sister, I’m sorry you have something like that on your face. Maybe you should put your patch back on. Someone might make fun of you.”
“That’s good advice, Felix. Thank you.”
He ran out the door and down the stairs, suddenly worried that his parents might leave him there again.
TWENTY-SEVEN
LIL CAME HOME from the costume party and found Jim asleep on the couch in his boxers and socks. It crossed her mind that they should throw the couch away; maybe even rearrange the furniture in the room. The moon, shining like a spotlight on a dark stage, lit a glass of whiskey and an ashtray full of cigarette butts that had spilled over on the table beside t
he couch.
Jim bolted upright, half asleep. His hair stuck out and he tried to palm it down. “Lil? Is that you? What’s going on? Did something happen?” His slender arms held him up on either side, and his belly protruded over his boxers.
“Nothing’s wrong. The costume party was tonight, and I decided to come home.”
“Oh God, Lil, thank you.”
He was a silhouette across the shadowed room.
“Come sit down,” he said, patting the couch beside him.
Lil took off her scarf and coat and hung them up. The smell of her own house came at her like a bad memory. So much had happened, but nothing had changed. Keeping the lights off, she walked over and sat next to her husband. He nestled his face into her neck. “Oh, sweetie,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry that I left, Jim. I needed a little time.” She let him nuzzle her neck and shoulders. “Alice won first prize.”
Jim pulled back in surprise. “No kidding! That’s great! What was she?”
“The old maid,” said Lil.
“Ouch,” said Jim.
“I know, but somehow it was okay,” said Lil.
“I’ve been thinking. Maybe this Clarisse thing isn’t such a good idea.”
“I tried to bring Alice home, but she wanted to stay with the twins for one more night, and I didn’t want to tell her no. Clarisse had promised them ice cream. She was having a good time; it was sweet. Tomorrow she’ll come home, and we can start from scratch around here.”
“I love you,” said Jim. “These past few days have been hell. I’m sorry I went behind your back with Clarisse. She means well.”
“It’s okay,” said Lil. “I’m the one to blame.”
“It’s not your fault. You’ve had to put up with me,” he said, with a sorry smile. Lil wondered why he said things like that.
“Things have to change,” she said. “I’m not sure how, but …”
Jim kissed her cheek. The kisses accelerated, and soon he was down the road to his own particular brand of love-making. His breath smelled sour from sleep and whiskey, and though everything in her rebelled, she succumbed. Just minutes after arriving home, her days at the convent seemed like a hazy dream, and any yearning to return to them was futile. No matter what Sister A. had said, a nun could never understand that sex was part of the job of marriage.
Jim reached for her hand and placed it on his crotch. He panted softly. “I love you,” he said again. “You have no idea.”
“Jim, not here, let’s go to the bedroom.”
“No sweetheart, it’s okay,” he said, maneuvering her around. He wriggled out of his boxers and tossed them across the floor, leaving his socks on. “You are so damn beautiful.” He pulled up the skirt of her dress, rubbed himself against her legs, and with his free hand kneaded her breast. She turned her face into the couch cushion, and waited for him to finish, knowing it wouldn’t take long. He pushed himself at her thighs in desperate thrusts, and then, with one final heave, he shot his love all over her legs and dress. Uttering a muffled sigh, he called out her name, collapsed his head onto her chest, and began to cry real tears. “I’m sorry, I was too fast. I love you,” he said again.
Underneath him, Lil felt the full burden of his weight, and his stickiness all over her legs, as she stared at the ceiling. She didn’t doubt his love. But where was hers? Vaguely, she noted how an hour ago she’d been talking to Luke Spoon about New York City, as if it were perfectly possible that she might go there someday. If he could see her now, pinned underneath her gently weeping husband.
Lil patted Jim on the back.
“Oh, Lil, life is so short,” he said, after a few moments. “You just never know what can happen. Sam Chinsky had a heart attack today.”
“Oh no,” said Lil. “Really?”
Jim lifted himself off her and climbed around to sit on the edge of the couch. He grabbed for his glass of whiskey and straightened a snuffed cigarette from the ashtray. “Yeah, the ambulance came, and I saw it from the front window, so I went out. Hedda was a mess, crying and everything. They wheeled him out of the house on a stretcher and put him in the ambulance, but they wouldn’t let her ride with him, and said she’d have to follow in the car. Apparently, he stood up from the dinner table, and just fell over. I should have offered to drive her, but I …”
“What? But you what?” asked Lil.
Jim lit the stub of the cigarette. “I’d already had two drinks, and I didn’t want to drive. I’m such a jerk. Not only was she hysterical but also, you know, she doesn’t see too well. Sam does everything for her. I felt like a shit.”
“Is he going to be okay?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
Lil gathered herself on the couch, leaving a space between them. She sat with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “I just spoke to him a few weeks ago. About pruning the rosebushes. He was so kind. I must have looked like a wreck. They’re good people even though the kids don’t like them.”
“The kids? I think it’s obvious who doesn’t like them.”
Jim got off the couch and put his shorts back on, relieved that Lil was home, and some semblance of closeness hung between them.
“Poor Sam,” said Lil. She’d have to visit Hedda tomorrow, maybe make her some cookies. But now, all she wanted was a hot bath.
AFTER THE girls had eaten all the ice cream they could, Clarisse tucked them into their beds, not bothering to bathe them or braid their hair. Traces of Halloween makeup still smudged their faces. She kissed them goodnight, nestled their prizes under the covers beside them, and left them in the attic room with the lights out.
“Good job tonight, girls. You made me proud,” she said half-heartedly. Despite sweeping the top prizes in the contest, Clarisse felt sick to her stomach. Her love affair meant nothing. It was over, and now there was only life as it had been before.
She thought about Lil, who would probably make friends with Luke’s pretty wife, and they’d all have dinner parties and talk disparagingly about Clarisse. Lil only had to be her nutty little self, and everybody fell at her feet.
Clarisse paused by the mirror in the hallway to examine her image in the glass. Her made-up face stared back at her. All the prizes in the world could not make Luke Spoon love her. Forget about love, how about a little affection? He’d barely said hello to her tonight. She ran her hand across her lips and watched herself kiss her own fingers. She’d been duped. The whole thing was a big fat joke. She felt empty, yet full. Full of pumpkin bread. What an appetite she had. Insatiable, it seemed.
AS SOON as Clarisse was down the stairs, Dawn sat up in bed, reached for the lamp on her nightstand, and turned on the light. “Let’s get up!” she whispered.
Alice was so tired, she couldn’t think.
“I’m almost asleep,” whined Fawn.
“Come on. Up,” said Dawn, pulling down her sister’s blanket. “You too, Alice. I’m too happy to sleep. Let’s compare prizes.” In a flash, both twins were standing over Alice’s bed holding their Blessed Mother statues. Fawn rubbed her eyes with her free hand.
“Can I see the cross?” said Dawn, shaking Alice’s shoulder.
Alice sat up, clutching the crucifix in her lap.
“It’s really pretty,” said Dawn. “I like the way Jesus is silver. You’re so lucky.”
“I like yours, too,” said Alice.
“Can I touch it?” said Dawn, putting her hand around the crucifix.
Alice tightened her grip, and a slight tug-of-war ensued.
“Pretty please,” said Dawn, “I just want to hold it by myself.”
“It’s mine,” said Alice, softly.
“I know that. You’re being selfish,” said Dawn, crossing her arms. “Can’t you share?”
“Do you promise you’ll give it back?” asked Alice.
“If you don’t share, I’m telling,” said Dawn, turning to her sister. “Fawn, let Alice hold yours for a minute.” She took Fawn’s statue and handed it to Alice in
exchange for the cross. Fawn didn’t seem to mind.
“Sister Ann said ours are from Rome,” said Fawn.
Alice took the Blessed Mother statue and moved her fingers over the ceramic folds. “I know,” said Alice. “It’s nice.”
“Big deal. Everybody knows Jesus is more important than Mary,” said Dawn. She turned the crucifix around, examining it from every angle. “This is so neat. You know, if I keep yours and you take Fawn’s then we won’t be stuck with two of the same.”
“But … I won, and it belongs to me,” said Alice, trying to be reasonable.
“It’s not fair that we have to share a prize. We always have to share, just because we’re twins. My mother made your costume, and that’s the only reason you won. You should be nicer to us,” said Dawn.
Alice looked to Fawn to see where she stood on this, but Fawn shrugged. Dawn twirled around the room cradling the crucifix in her arms, until she made her way over to her bed, where she laid it on her pillow. “Oh, pleeeease, Alice, I love it so much! Can’t you just give it to me? I promise to always be your friend.”
In a rare show of nerve, Alice rushed across the room, and stood over Dawn. “No,” she said. “It’s mine. It’s the first time I’ve ever won anything. You have to give it back.”
Alice, taking advantage of her size, managed to pull the crucifix away from Dawn and scamper back to her own bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin and curled up around the crucifix, turning toward the wall.
Fawn stood uneasily in the middle of the room in her flowered flannels, as Dawn hopped off her bed and headed back toward Alice.
“You’re mean,” she said, growling in Alice’s ear. “Nobody likes you. Especially my mother. She said it’s like you’re retarded. Even your own mother wants to get rid of you. There’s something wrong with you, and people think you’re ugly, too. Because of all your freckles. Freckles are poison spots.”
With both hands, Dawn grabbed Alice’s head and pulled her hair. Then she dug her fingernails into Alice’s cheeks, making deep scratch marks across her face. Alice felt the sting of tears spread over the scratches.