My mind struggled to make sense of what she was saying.
“He wants to do this. He came up with the idea to help take the pressure off me and your father while we work things out. It has nothing to do with love, and we will still be your parents.”
“You just said you wouldn’t be if you give me away.”
All of us jumped. Dad blasted out of his chair, catching the edge with his foot and knocking it over. He bolted from the bedroom, shoving the door aside with such force it hit the rubber wall protector and bounced all the way back, slamming shut behind him.
Mom’s mouth fell open. Kit and I looked at each other in shock. I had never seen my father angry, much less violent. Kit had been right when she’d told me Dad would shoot FD if he ever found out about him and Mom. I’d had a hard time imagining such a thing. Now Dad had shown us there was rage inside him, rage that could result in violence.
Mom recovered her wits. “I see your father is leaving me to do the dirty work. That’s par for the course.” Her voice was taut with impatience as she continued. “Boarding school is the best solution. Think of it as an opportunity to get an excellent education.”
“You said that’s what we were getting at St. Monica’s.”
“Clarice, are you listening to me? This separation means one of you would have to go to public school. It’ll be hard enough supporting two residences on what your father makes, let alone tuition for you and your sister. We can’t accept a loan from Jack, and we certainly can’t take his money outright. He has come up with a viable solution offering to be your conservator and footing the bill for your support. He wants to save our marriage as much as anybody.”
Kit put her hand over her mouth and faked a cough. Anger flashed over Mom’s face.
“Why does he have to be my conservator or whatever you call it? Why can’t he just pay my tuition at St. Monica’s?”
“Oh, right. That would look great, a tuition check coming into school every month with Jack’s signature. You’re obviously too young to understand money. It’s not just the tuition. It costs a small fortune to support this house, two cars—”
“You and me could move to a smaller house.” It took everything in me not to cry.
“You and me? That’s what we’re paying your tuition for? You and I.”
“You and me, you and I…who cares? Mom, this is my life we’re talking about!”
“Yes, and as a minor you’re not the one making this decision. You’re just going to have to trust me…us…that this plan is best for everyone, including you.”
Mom leaned back on the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Clarice, you’re fourteen. You can’t raise yourself. I will be taking on more clients. Your father works long hours and travels. This was the best option we could come up with. Once you get to the school in Arizona, you’ll love it. You’ll see.”
I jumped off the bed and clenched my fists. The corners of my mouth quivered as I fought tears. “I won’t love it! I’ll hate it! I already hate it! I’ll run away!”
“This is hard enough on me without your getting emotional. There’s a packet from St. Joan’s with a brochure so you can see what the school looks like.”
I shook with anger, or fear. It was impossible to separate the two. “So, that’s it? It’s a done deal?”
Mom sipped her coffee and didn’t answer. Kit nodded toward our bedroom. I snatched the packet from St. Joan’s and stormed out behind her. On my way I kicked Dad’s overturned chair.
Kit closed the bedroom door and put a Beach Boys album on the record player to muffle our conversation so Mom couldn’t hear. I dropped the packet and collapsed on the bed. Kit sat on hers propped against the wall. Neither of us said anything for a moment.
“I can’t believe they’re sending me away.”
“Well, jeeezz, Reese, you sort of brought it on yourself.”
I popped up. “Me? What did I do?”
“Didn’t I tell you to let it go? But no…you had to press. You had to go and ask her point blank if she and Dad would ever get divorced.”
“What has that got to do with the price of tea in China?” I used one of Mom’s favorite expressions in the same superior, know-it-all tone she used. I thought Kit was on my side. I felt defensive and angry and confused all at once.
“You weren’t exactly subtle. You might as well have announced Mom and FD were sleeping together by tying a banner to the Goodyear blimp for the whole world to see. You’re such a fool. Why couldn’t you just keep the secret? Now they’re on to you.”
“What are you talking about?”
My sister cocked her head in frustration, the futility of explaining adult manipulation to a guileless kid. “Think about it. You found out about them right before Christmas last year. Why do you think FD bought you all those dresses?”
“Because he thought I needed something fancy for The Sound of Music.”
Kit exhaled sharply. “You really think that’s why? What about the way he jumped in for Dad and took you to the Dodger game? Has he ever shown the slightest interest in baseball? Why do you think he makes such a fuss over you every Friday night when he comes over to watch The Twilight Zone, going on about what good buddies you guys are? Why?”
“Because for your information, he likes me.”
Kit scoffed and fell back against the wall. “I know he likes you. But he loves Mom.”
I drew my knees up and leaned on them with both hands holding my head. Had I been a fool, like Kit said? I thought back over all the special times with FD.
“Don’t you get it? They’ve been bribing you, Reese, the two of them. Mom’s been feeding ideas to FD, masterminding your silence through him. She knows you adore him and would never blow his cover.”
“Then why send me away to school?” I kept me head down so Kit wouldn’t see I was starting to cry.
“Obviously Mom’s afraid you’ll spill the beans. She needs to get you out of the way. Remember what I said when you told me you knew? I warned you that Mom would never give FD up. Divorce isn’t an option, not because of any church rule…because he can’t support her on a priest’s salary. She has to keep Dad in the dark. This way she can have her cake and eat it too.”
“You also said if Dad found out he would shoot FD and go to prison. I would never let that happen. I would never tell anyone, least of all Dad!”
“Yeah…well…I know that but Mom doesn’t. Even if she did, Mom doesn’t trust anyone. I thought you would figure that out after she chased your boyfriend away. She doesn’t trust you any more than she trusts me. Once she figured out you knew about her and FD, she wasn’t about to risk your blowing it.”
“What if I went to her and told her she was right, that I know but would never tell Dad?”
“Because it’s not only that you know. It’s that now you’ve got something on her, something you can hold over her head and use against her. What if you decided you wanted to get back at her for Greg? Don’t you see? You’re too dangerous to have around. Boarding school is the perfect solution. She’s even thought of insurance with this stupid plan making FD your legal guardian.”
I started crying in loud uneven breaths. “But why did Dad agree?”
Kit’s tone softened. “Who knows? Maybe she threatened to leave him if he didn’t. That’s her trump card. He wouldn’t risk taking a stand for you if it meant he might lose her.”
My mind reeled, refusing to accept Kit’s logic.
She stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a Kleenex. “Here, take it.” She sat on the edge of my bed. “Anyway, you’ll be better off in boarding school. Why would you want to be here?”
“Because this is my home.”
“Well, not anymore, apparently. That bitch wants us out of the way and Dad doesn’t want to think about his family breaking up. That’s all he’s ever wanted. It’s twisted, but hey, welcome to the adult world. Besides, Dad’s right, you’ll probably love boarding school.”
I was numb.
; “Anyway, I gotta go. Jackie’s picking me up.” Kit started for the door. “It’s a rotten break, Reese.”
I grabbed Cyrano and fell back, looking at the giant K without seeing it. Tears pooled in my ears. How could they send me away? I was the good kid. Mom had to know me better than that, know I would never tell. The quiet, intense one.
I sat up and wiped my face, then opened the packet from St. Joan’s. A glossy brochure showed an idyllic country setting with wholesome-looking girls strolling across the lawn in dappled morning light, all of them looking exceedingly happy.
Of course they were happy. They all came from normal homes with normal parents who weren’t trying to get rid of them—girls who slept well at night knowing their mother and the parish priest weren’t lovers, girls whose fathers would stand up for them, protect them, girls who weren’t made to feel like whores over an innocent kiss, girls whose mothers would never, ever give them away.
Girls who prayed to a God who had not abandoned them.
How could I ever fit in with such girls? I was nothing like them. They would see right through me, see I wasn’t normal. I could never make a real friend, a friend to confide in about everything that mattered because the only thing that mattered was too horrible to share.
My own mother didn’t even want me around. Why should they? At boarding school I would be my same lonely self, only worse, cut off from my family and everything familiar, far away from Francie. Far away from Brother McPherson.
*
Monday morning, Kit got a ride to school with Jackie. It was the first time Dad and I had been alone since the family meeting. He reached across the seat and slapped my hand, which was resting palm down between us. I returned the slap, our usual game, then withdrew my hand.
The silence between us felt strained. He was my only chance. I had to ask.
“Dad, about the whole separation thing. Couldn’t you convince Mom to let me live with you?”
He straightened up in the seat. I knew he hated talking about serious stuff. “I brought that possibility up already. Mom adamantly rejected it.”
“Yes, but why? As it is I take care of myself after school. It would be no different with you at work.”
“She’s worried Kit will be a bad influence. You’ll want to bring friends over, and word will get out that your mother and I—”
“Bring friends over? Do I bring friends over now? That bus after school is a ferry taking me from the mainland to a deserted island. I wouldn’t bring friends over!”
“Don’t be sarcastic, Reese. We get enough of that from your sister.”
“I can’t believe you’re letting her do this! It’s so unfair! I’m being punished for nothing.”
“Life isn’t always fair. And you’re not being punished. Your mother and I have to do what we think is best for all of us, and this is the plan we’ve come up with. You’ll just have to find a way to live with it. We all will.”
“We? You’re the one who decided this with Mom and FD.”
Dad massaged his neck the way he did at the end of a hard day. “Separation is the lesser of two evils. Ever since Mom earned her counseling certificate and started working with Jack, taking on her own clients, she feels…well, she feels like she’s doing something that matters with her life, something meaningful.” He flinched ever so slightly.
“And? She can’t do something meaningful with one quiet, undemanding, self-sufficient, practically grown teenage daughter who stays out of her hair?”
“It’s not that simple, Peanut. Your mother is a smart woman, an energetic woman, and she’s always wanted a career. You girls came along pretty fast after we got married. Mom wants more than a family and kids.”
“Dad, this isn’t exactly the Stone Age. Women work and have families at the same time. Three people I know of at school have moms who work.”
“I know that, but counseling is a lot more demanding than working in an office or dress shop. Your mother is high strung, easily stressed. She doesn’t feel she can manage a career and a family. This separation will give her a break, that’s all. It’s not forever.”
I stared at him as he looked straight ahead. Dad was a stranger, a different man from the one I had spent summer evenings with in the garage. We didn’t talk the rest of the way to school, a first for us, in spite of his attempts to start a conversation. There was only one thing I wanted to talk about, the one thing we both knew and couldn’t accept—there was nothing either one of us could do.
I got through the school day as Robot Reese, the mechanical motions familiar by now. I didn’t think my life could get any worse. I was wrong.
The final bell rang. A quick stop at my locker and that would be that. I shimmied my way through the river of students flowing out of the classrooms. A squealing laugh carried down the hallway over the hum and chatter. I knew that laugh. It was Stephanie Hamilton, boy-chaser extraordinaire, head of the cheerleading squad, mean girl who had given me the cold shoulder from day one, starting with excluding me from her big sleepover.
I caught a glimpse of Stephanie at her locker, flirting with some cute guy, probably captain of the football team, a perfect match.
I stopped cold. Even from behind he was painfully familiar.
Greg.
The world around me blurred. I couldn’t move. Greg and Stephanie Hamilton. My knees nearly buckled as he stepped closer and brushed her bangs aside. Students had to step around me to get by.
I gathered my wits and turned around. The exit. Get to the exit. I focused only on the door to freedom until I jammed my body into the metal bar and shoved it open with a loud clang. Fresh air didn’t help. I had to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible and never show my face again.
The forty-three minute bus ride felt like forty-three hours. Greg and Stephanie. My Greg. The house was quiet. I stood outside Mom’s door and listened to the hushed voices, the muted tones of intimacy between counselor and client.
Always the intruder, I tiptoed to my room and turned to close the door. A ball of anger burned in my gut. Greg and Stephanie Hamilton. Are you satisfied, Mom? I gritted my teeth and threw the door shut. The vibration jostled the dog figurines on my desk, knocking them askew with the tinkling sound of colliding porcelain.
Thirty seconds later, Mom burst in. I knew she was seething. In the dark I held my breath and waited until she left. Hunkered deep in the closet, I clutched Cyrano and sobbed. My burgundy dress from the freshman dance swayed to and fro above me, the long satin ribbon brushing my face.
6 Unraveled
Two weeks went by and no one said a word about the separation. I knew we hadn’t heard the last of it, could feel it in my bones. Anxiety was making it harder for me to stay focused at school. Sleeping through the night was rare. My appetite disappeared and carved my curves into Kit-like leanness.
I didn’t suppose our family doctor would prescribe sleeping pills like the ones he had given Mom to take the edge off the gallons of coffee and cartons of cigarettes she consumed trying to keep up with grad school and counseling and her family. In that order.
I rang Greg’s doorbell. No one answered, which was odd. We had planned to meet here after his track practice. Maybe he was in the backyard showing someone the bomb shelter. I walked around back and found the metal plate in the ground. I dragged the lid to the side, wondering why the heck the opening was closed if Greg was in there.
Down, down, down I went. It was black inside the bomb shelter. I propped the door open and flipped on the light.
The concrete bunker was empty.
“Greg?”
CLUNK!
I spun around just as the steel door fell shut and clicked. I rushed over and tried the knob. Locked. Don’t panic, don’t panic. Greg showed me a key somewhere. The metal panel in the wall. I dashed over. My fingers shook as I yanked the panel open. No key. I moved to the kitchen and started pulling open one drawer after another, sliding my hand over the contents in a circular motion. No key. I threw aside the bun
dles of bedding on each cot. No key.
Overhead the single bulb began to flicker. I ran to the door and grabbed the knob, pulling and twisting with my whole body. I was suffocating. Air, I needed air.
“HELP! SOMEBODY! LET ME OUT!” The light overhead flickered on and off before it died. The bunker fell into terrifying darkness.
I heard footsteps. “HELP! I’M LOCKED IN HERE!”
A hand touched my shoulder. I opened my mouth to scream.
“Reese, wake up! Wake up, Peanut.”
My eyes popped open. I gasped for air and sat bolt upright.
Dad was standing over me.
“That was some nightmare! You okay?”
I nodded, none too convinced.
“Well, it’s six anyway. Why don’t you go ahead and get dressed. Maybe we can leave a little early for school this morning. Don’t fall back asleep.”
Dad closed the door. I dropped on the pillow, my nightgown damp with sweat.
*
Another two weeks went by and still no one said anything about the separation. At dinner one night Mom was especially quiet. Kit and I snuck looks at each other, waiting.
Dad cleared his throat. “So, that thing we talked about a few weeks ago…it looks like your mother and I won’t be separating after all, at least right now. Between renting a place in Santa Monica and paying the mortgage on the house, our finances just won’t handle it.”
“Oh, so what now? We just stay here and resent each other? Boy, that sounds bitchin’.”
“Goddamit, Katherine, how many times have I told you not to swear?”
“Kit, Vi, please.” Dad’s face was a mix of apprehension and defeat. This wasn’t the end, and he knew it.
The Road at My Door Page 7