by Ann Herrick
My pulse raced. Tiny pearls of perspiration formed on my face. I was really going to Do It. I felt myself blush all over, just thinking about it.
At breakfast I picked at my food. I had all day to be nervous and excited about the Big Event. I couldn't imagine how I'd ever get through two more meals.
Gwen kept stealing glances at me. I wondered if I looked different, if somehow I was giving myself away to Mom and Dad. But they didn't say or do anything out of the ordinary.
After breakfast, upstairs in our room, Gwen said, "I'll be spending most of the day at Mikel's, so I don't know when I'll see you again. So I just wanted to say, um, good luck … and be careful."
"Don't worry." I gave Gwen a quick hug. "Troy and I will be … prepared. It'll be fine. More than fine."
"Okay," Gwen said, tiny lines of worry still between her eyebrows. "Well, then, uh, have, um, fun."
"I will," I said. "And later I want to hear all about your first kiss with Mikel."
"Well, maybe not every last little detail." Gwen hesitated, then said, "Do you think Mom and Mr. Daly ever … you know. I mean, back when they had their summer romance."
"I don't know." I shivered. I worried enough about whether they were doing that now.
"Well, um, if you knew … and if you had any, you know, last‑second doubts about you and Troy … well, maybe it would help you make up your mind."
"First of all, I have made up my mind. Second of all, can you picture me saying to Mom, 'Did you and Parker Daly ever have sex? The reason I'd like to know is, I'm planning on Doing It with Troy.'"
"I get the picture," Gwen said. "Still, aren't you curious? I mean, I wish I knew."
"No, you don't," I said. "You don't really want to know that kind of thing about Mom or Dad."
Gwen thought for a moment. "Hmm. Maybe you're right."
"I know I'm right," I said. "For all my spying, I've come to realize that I really did not want to know if Mom was having an actual affair with Mr. Daly."
"Yeah … Well, remember," Gwen said, suddenly acting like the big sister as she placed her hand on my shoulder, "be careful."
"Don't worry," I said. "I will."
"Good!" With that, Gwen waved and gave me a quick smile as she turned and skipped out the door on her way to Mikel's cottage.
Briefly, I wondered if my moods changed as quickly as Gwen's when I was her age. But just as quickly I was in front of the mirror playing with my hair, trying it down, then up, then down again. I decided to wear it loose and free. I put on a new green shorts and tube top outfit I'd gotten in Lakeview. It made my eyes look greener than ever.
Just as I was putting on a touch of lip gloss, I caught a glimpse of Troy coming up the path, so I hurried down to meet him. I stepped out onto the porch as he was getting there. "Hi," I said. My cheeks burned as Troy looked me over.
"Hi." Troy walked me over to the porch swing where we both sat down. "You look great," he whispered, gazing at my tube top. "Are you planning on wearing something like that tonight?"
I nodded, feeling my cheeks turn even pinker.
"Good." Troy smiled. "No buttons for me to fumble with."
"Right … " Somehow in all my fantasies I had never quite thought of us being, um, not clothed. It'd always just been this misty, clouded vision of us together.
But Troy was the picture of calm. In fact, he started fishing around in my box of books. "Hey, where's that science fiction book I was reading. I haven't finished it."
"I‑I don't know," I stammered, still shaken by the image of me and Troy undressed together. I was too nervous to read. "Y‑you know, we don't have much time l‑left together before I go back to Connecticut. Why don't we talk instead of read this morning?"
"Okay." Troy pulled his head out of the box of books and took hold of my hands. "What do you want to talk about?"
"Oh … anything." My mind sputtered. I groped for a topic. "I don't know. What your sign?"
"My sign?" Troy laughed. "You mean my astrological sign?"
I nodded, feeling like a dork. I couldn't even think of an original question!
"I'm a Scorpio. October 31." He made a face like a monster. "Halloween."
"Oh, no!" I couldn't help laughing. "What a day to have your birthday."
"Holiday birthdays are sort of a family tradition." Troy grinned. "My father was born on Valentine's Day and my brother was born on St. Patrick's Day."
"Your brother?" I blinked in total surprise. "You have a brother?"
"Yes. Mark. Didn't I ever mention him?"
"I don't think so. W‑where is he? Why isn't he here with you and your dad?"
"He's doing a summer internship."
"Summer internship?" My mind raced. "Is he in college?"
"Yeah."
"Just how old is he?"
"Nineteen."
"So, he'll be twenty on his next birthday?"
"Unless there's a sudden change in the numerical system. Why all the interest in my brother?"
"Oh, it's not your brother so much, it's … I mean, I'm interested in your whole family. Um, how long were your parents married? When did they meet?"
Troy raised an eyebrow. "You really want to know all that stuff?"
"Sure!" I snuggled close to Troy and gazed into his blue eyes, hoping that would distract him enough so he wouldn't think too much about why I was suddenly so curious.
"So you want to know my family history …" Troy smiled as if he thought it was cute that I was so interested. "Well, okay. I've heard the story often enough. My parents met in college. They were lab partners in biology. Turned out neither one liked biology, but they discovered they liked each other. They dated for a couple years." Troy paused. "You sure I'm not boring you?"
"Oh, no. Go on."
"Well, the summer after their sophomore year my Mom had a chance to spend six weeks in Europe helping her history professor with a research project. My Dad's folks wanted him to go to Lake Winnepesaukee with them for a family vacation. Since my Mom was going to be away anyway, he went." Troy hesitated. "You really want to hear all this?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Well, the night before she left for Europe my Mom suggested that they both see other people while they were apart to, you know, see if they really cared for one another. My Dad always teased her that she just said that because she had a crush on her history professor."
"Did she?"
Troy looked at me funny. "Of course not."
"And then … your father met my mother?"
"Yeah. Dad said he had a fling that summer, but as soon as he saw Mom again they both decided they couldn't wait to get married. So they did, on Labor Day. When my brother was born a few weeks early on St. Patrick's Day, they said it was because he wanted to keep the holiday thing going. Even though he was early, he was a typical, healthy male Daly offspring." Troy grinned and pointed to himself.
I smiled, but I was focusing on the "few weeks early" part. Of course, it was possible Troy's brother was born premature. However, it was also conceivable (no pun intended) that Mrs. Daly unknowingly got pregnant just before she left for Europe and waited until she saw Mr. Daly in person again to tell him. And a quickie wedding followed. That was sure one explanation of why my mother's summer romance with Mr. Daly didn't extend into autumn.
"Of course, all that fades in comparison to the fact that a couple years later on yet another holiday I was born," Troy joked.
"Definitely a historical event." I laughed, just to make sure Troy wouldn't get suspicious about my line of questioning. But my mind was reeling. I'd kind of figured that Mr. Daly had started thinking about my Mom just recently, since his divorce. But maybe he was in love with her all these years! And if he told my mother that, how would she react?
"Hey, it's late. I have to get going." Troy tapped his watch. "I've got a lot to do before this evening." He brushed his lips across my earlobe and whispered, "I want everything to be really special."
"See you later." I smiled, but I was already think
ing about Mom. I wanted to talk to her and see if I could figure out any more details in the situation with her and Mr. Daly. Maybe it was none of my business. But I was going to make it my business anyway.
"I'll need most of the afternoon to plan everything," Troy said. "So I'll come over about five‑thirty to pick you up. Okay?"
"Sure." I hoped that'd give me time to come up with the answers to a few thousand questions I had, some of which I was going to have to answer myself.
Chapter Thirteen
"Mmmm, smells good," I said, sniffing the air as I walked into the kitchen. "Your Tuna Casserole Supreme?"
"Yes, it's almost done." Mom stood at the counter rolling out dough for a pie tin. Next to the pie tin was a bowl of blueberries. Blueberry pie. Mr. Daly's favorite.
I was majorly anxious to ask Mom about her long‑ago romance with Troy's father. But I figured any moment she'd be asking me to get Dad.
"Surprise!" Dad bounded down the stairs. "I smelled Tuna Casserole Supreme, Margo, and you didn't even have to call me for lunch. How about that?"
"That's wonderful, Robert." Mom gave Dad a peck on the cheek. "You must've finished rewriting that Chapter you were working on."
"You know me too well, Margo." Dad chuckled. "Too well!"
I wondered how well Dad really knew Mom. Was he oblivious to what was going on with her and Mr. Daly, whatever it was. Or was he fully aware and just totally trusting? And if that was the case, did Mom take advantage of that trust?
I didn't have long to think about it just then. Mom announced that lunch was ready. She put the pie in the oven and we sat down to eat.
For a few minutes I put aside my worries and enjoyed the casserole. Like everything Mom fixed, it was delicious. Sometimes I wished I'd inherited her love of cooking. After all, everyone has to eat.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm." Dad gave Mom a thumbs‑up sign. "That was wonderful."
"Thanks." If the look of love on Mom's face was fake, she was an awfully good actress.
Was Mr. Daly just an old flame who meant nothing more than someone to pass time with? Or did Mom love Dad, but still lust after Mr. Daly? Was it possible to love one person and have feelings like that for someone else? Was I thinking only of Mom, or was I also thinking about me and Brian and Troy?
When did life get so complicated, anyway?
"When's that pie going to be done?" Dad rubbed his hands together.
"It has to bake another fifteen minutes," Mom said, "and then it has to cool."
"Well, in that case," Dad said, "I think I'll‑‑"
"‑‑work on revising the next Chapter and have your pie after supper," Mom said.
"Am I that predictable?" Dad pretended to look worried.
"Oh, I think after eighteen years you still have a few surprises left in you." Mom grinned.
"Whew!" Dad wiped his brow. "In that case, it's back to work."
After Dad went back upstairs, I helped Mom clear the table. She filled the sink with water and started sponging off the dishes.
"My turn to dry." I picked up a towel, wiped a plate, and stuck it in the dish rack. "Sure has been a nice vacation, hasn't it?"
"Yes, it has," Mom said. "And to think you didn't even want to come up here. Funny, isn't it?"
"Yeah." I forced a small laugh. "Is it as nice as you remember it?" I asked carefully. "I mean, since the last time you had a vacation here."
"I think it's even more beautiful." Mom sighed.
More beautiful? What did that mean? The scenery? Or because this time she was here with Dad? Or because Parker Daly was waiting for her? I tried to sound casual as I asked, "Whatever happened with your summer romance with Mr. Daly? All those years ago," I quickly added. "I mean, how did it end?"
"Oh, I don't know." Mom shrugged. "I guess how most summer romances end."
"How do most summer romances end?" I asked, hoping for a more definitive answer.
"Well, in my case, I went back to Connecticut and Parker went back to Pennsylvania."
"That was it? You just left Lake Winnipesaukee? No big goodbye, no nothing?"
"Well, I guess there was more to it," Mom said. "Summer romances don't always just fade away, if that's what you're worried about." Mom gave me a reassuring smile.
She must've thought I was worried about Troy and me. What a good cover! I tried to look extremely discouraged, figuring that might prompt her to tell me more about her and Mr. Daly. "But your romance just faded away …?"
"Well … not exactly."
I worked my face into a more hopeful expression. "What do you mean, 'not exactly?'"
"Oh, we did have a special night to say goodbye." Mom looked kind of wistful. "We went into Lakeview and had dinner at a romantic restaurant overlooking the lake. Then we went dancing. We danced until the band started packing up their instruments."
"And then …?"
"We promised to write. We even talked about getting together some weekend in the fall. Parker went to a college just a few hours drive from the one where I would be going."
I waited, but Mom didn't say more.
"Don't keep me in suspense! Did you see each other again?"
"Not until this summer," Mom said matter‑of‑factly.
"But … but what happened?"
"Oh, I wrote to Parker. A long letter. But I didn't hear back. So a few weeks later I wrote again. Just a cheerful little note that time. I had my pride, you know," Mom said quietly. She paused, then went on. "Well, at Christmas I was debating whether I should try once more and send him a card, when I finally got a note from him. Turned out he'd gotten married and just wanted to let me know."
"Married?" I tried to sound surprised. "When?"
"Some time that fall. He didn't say exactly when. Just mentioned that it was a girl he'd been dating before he met me." Mom finished washing the last dish, then let the water out of the sink. "He did say he hoped I'd have a happy life." She turned to me, touching the end of my nose with her finger. "And I have had a very happy life."
I wondered if she was reassuring me, or herself. I didn't know what else to do except smile and say, "Interesting story."
Interesting that Parker Daly didn't tell Mom exactly when he'd gotten married. I could only wonder if she still didn't know.
A buzzer sounded. "Oh, the pie," Mom said. She took it out of the oven and placed it on a rack. "I'm going to go for a walk along the lake while the pie cools. Want to come?"
"No, thanks," I said. "I'm, um, kind of tired. I think I'll go upstairs and rest for a while."
"Okay," Mom said. "See you later."
Actually, I wanted some time to myself to think and to try on a few dozen combinations of stuff to wear that evening. Since I'd already seen Troy this morning, I wanted to wear something different. I went upstairs and pulled everything out of my dresser drawer and closet and heaped it all on my bed.
After half an hour of trying on clothes and primping in front of the mirror I decided on a pale pink tube top and shorts. The tube top was so Troy would not, as he said, have any buttons to fumble with. I chose the pale pink because I thought it made me look, well, chaste. For some reason I decided that's how I should look the first time I Did It.
That was something I'd really thought about in the half hour I'd spent trying on clothes. Whether or not to really go ahead and Do It. I was pretty sure I still loved Brian. But I was not married to him.
I knew I was extremely attracted to Troy. But it wasn't as if I loved him. I knew I liked the way he made me feel desirable. And I thought, well, maybe it would be good to bring the experience of Doing It with Troy to my relationship with Brian. I mean, then, when he and I eventually Did It, whenever that might be, I'd know what I was doing.
Of course, there were risks. Look at Mr. and Mrs. Daly. But, hey, times were different. There were more options now. Of course there were more, gulp, dangers, too, with AIDS and everything. Ack! That You and Other Class was coming back to haunt me! But … but Troy and I would take precautions.
; Despite my minor doubts, part of me absolutely ached to be with Troy. And that part was winning all the arguments. I was curious and excited. I wanted very much to know how it would feel to go ahead and Do It with Troy.
The fact that we might not, probably would not, see each other again, at least for a long time, actually made it easier. Though I could imagine how exciting it would be to Do It, I figured the first time might not be totally perfect. For one thing, it could make a relationship a lot more complicated.
But Troy and I wouldn't have to worry about complications for now. If by some chance it turned out we did actually love each other, then we'd figure out a way to be together eventually. Meanwhile, we'd have time only for soft goodbyes and the memory of one special night of … of Uninhibited Passion.
I had to lie down. I was getting all worked up just thinking about it …
Chapter Fourteen
An hour later I woke up. I'd been dreaming. I dreamed I was Doing It with Troy. Only (in my dream) I'd open my eyes and Brian would be smiling at me. Just smiling at me. Then I'd close my eyes again and I'd be Doing It with Troy.
Eyes open. Brian smiling. Eyes closed, Doing It with Troy. Was there a message in all that?
I got up and looked in the mirror. All I saw in there was that my hair was a mess. I brushed it back into place. Then I put way all the clothes I tried on, except for the pink outfit. I left that on my bed.
My head buzzed as I looked at the pink tube top, just thinking about What It Meant. I closed my eyes and, sure enough, there I was again, Doing It with Troy. If actually Doing It was going to be even better than just thinking about It, then I couldn't wait.
I had to do something to pass the time until I saw Troy. I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on reading. But maybe eating would help. That pie must've cooled off.
I started downstairs to help myself to a big slice of blueberry pie, when I heard Mom talking. I figured Dad must've taken a break from writing after all. When I waltzed into the kitchen, however, I saw that it was Mr. Daly sitting across the table from Mom and eating blueberry pie. His favorite. And Mom's free hand was on top of Mr. Daly's free hand.