by Ann Herrick
"It does have a knob that controls the volume, doesn't it?"
"Of course. But it mustn't be too loud, or—"
"Don't worry." Joel took the radio and placed it on one of the food tables. He found a station playing soft music, and turned it up enough that the sweet sound drifted on the air gently, like the scent of roses.
I recognized the song as "Sincerely," by the McGuire Sisters.
"Let's get the dancing started," Joel said.
Before I could finish saying, "Dancing?" Joel took my hand, slid his arm around my waist, and left the proper phone-book distance between us, just as we'd learned in junior-high dance lessons. The McGuire Sisters crooned, and Joel guided us around the back yard as smoothly as though we were in a proper ballroom.
Soon enough, several couples, including Mama and Papa, glided around the yard, as the music slid from "Sincerely," to "Sleepwalk," to "Love Letters in the Sand." We changed partners as Karl's high-school buddies cut in to dance with me, the kid sister, who was, according to them, now "so grown up."
Next thing I knew, The Four Aces crooned, "Love is a Many Splendored Thing," just as Karl and Caprice emerged hand-in-hand from under the grape arbor. Caprice smoothed her hair, and Karl wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I noticed Caprice no longer had the trace of pale pink lipstick. Of course, it could have worn off from eating, but I hadn't seen Caprice anywhere near the food.
Karl gathered Caprice into his arms, nuzzling her hair and leaving no more than a single page of a phone book between them. I saw Mama and Papa staring at Karl and Caprice. I would have expected cross looks, but it was obvious they were delighted.
I wondered what expressions I would see on their faces if they ever spotted me and Nolan dancing like that. Omigosh! Nolan! I hadn't even thought about him since the party began. I was about to sink into a hole of guilt, when Rod tapped Pete on the shoulder in order to dance with me.
"You really set up a great party." Rod practically swirled me off my feet.
"Thank you," I said, grateful to be reminded that I had been so busy being a hostess. That, I was sure, was why I hadn't been thinking about Nolan. Now that I was thinking about Nolan, I wondered if he'd be jealous if he saw me dancing with Rod or Pete. He shouldn't be. But, though I knew I shouldn't be, I was jealous just thinking about Nolan spending the day eyeing girls in bikinis.
Next thing I knew, Papa tapped Rod on the shoulder, and away we danced. "Vija, you and your mother have made this day so wonderful!"
"Thank you, Papa." It made me happy to see him so happy.
"Karl and Caprice dance very well together, don't they?" Papa said.
"Um. Yes."
"I should dance with Caprice." With a quick bow, Papa left and tapped Karl. For a thousandth of a second, Karl flashed a look that said, "Go away," until he realized it was Papa. Then he smiled and graciously stepped aside. Caprice's eyes shined with pleasure at the prospect of dancing with Papa.
"Hey, little sister. How about a dance with your big brother?"
"Hmm. I guess I have room on my dance card." I studied Karl's face, trying to see what was in his mind when it came to Caprice.
"I have a recent photo I can give you before I go," Karl said.
"What?"
"You look as if you're trying to memorize my features. I can give you a picture, so you won't forget me."
"How could I forget a brother who always 'borrowed' from my piggy-bank, called me 'Gooch' for the first twelve years of my life, and liked to pretend that he sneezed in my milk?"
"And who convinced Mama and Papa that you should drive his car while he's off seeing the world?"
"I guess that makes us even," I teased. "Well, almost."
Karl danced us into the grape arbor, where he stopped. If he weren't my brother, I would have thought the dappled shade, fruity fragrance, and cozy quiet were romantic. I imagined Caprice must have enjoyed her prolonged stay. "Thinking of making grape jelly?" I asked.
"I just wanted a quiet place where we could talk," Karl said.
"You've been doing that a lot lately."
"What?"
"Finding quiet places to, uh, 'talk.' I saw you with Caprice. What's up?"
"I saw you with Joel—and Mama and Papa beamed every time they looked at you. What's up with you two?"
"Joel and I are just friends," I said. "We've both been dancing with other people too—not hiding out in the grape arbor like some people I could mention."
"You got me." Karl ducked his head to try to hide his sheepish smile. "I was glad to see Caprice."
"And she seemed glad to see you."
"Yes ...."
"Is that a bit of pink I see on the face of the brother who never blushes?"
"Okay, okay." Karl held up both hands in surrender. "Caprice and I were both really glad to see each other. Satisfied?"
"I guess I'll have to be." I rested a hand on the grape arbor to steady myself. "The idea of you and Caprice as a ... a couple will take some getting used to."
"Speaking of couples ...." Karl hesitated, then went on. "Caprice says you're seeing some guy Nolan. He's not here, and it's obvious Mama and Papa know nothing about him. What's wrong with the guy?"
"There's nothing wrong with him!"
"Caprice seems to think so."
"Caprice is just jealous!"
"Jealous?" Karl's brows flickered a little.
"Yes, jealous. She dragged me to The Exit just so she could see him. She was the one who invited him to sit at our table. She's the one who set her sights on him. But I was the one he asked out. Not her. Me."
"That's not what I heard."
"Of course not! Do you think your precious Caprice would tell you she had a thing for another guy?"
"Listen." Karl ran his fingers over his Navy-shorn hair. "Caprice told me how you met. And she told me she thought Nolan was cute. She also told me he's a folk singer."
"So?"
"And he dropped out of Yale."
"That doesn't make him a criminal."
"And that you're very vague when you talk about him."
"Oh. Pardon me. I don't go on and on about him to Caprice, so that makes me 'vague' and that means there's something wrong with Nolan?"
Karl let out a soft whistle that turned into a sigh. He took my hands in his. "Look. This Nolan guy is not at the party. You haven't told Mama and Papa a thing about him, have you?"
I shook my heard.
"Which means you've been sneaking around to see him."
"I ... I do not sneak around." Not exactly. "And," I added quickly, "I did ask him to the party, but he was ... busy."
"Busy, huh?" Karl shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Look, I'm not saying that you should like Joel because Mama and Papa like him. But I think you think Mama and Papa would not like Nolan. And only you can decide if the reasons you think they wouldn't like him are valid."
"End of lecture?"
"End of lecture."
"Then let me get you a big plate of food. Mama and I spent hours making everything, and I'll bet you've been too 'busy' to eat a bite."
"You got me. I want some birch champagne and kiselis before it's all gone."
As I heaped food on a plate for Karl, I spotted Caprice talking to Karl's high-school buddies. No one looked at her as a "little sister." She stood there, a vision in pink, surrounded by admirers. Karl saw this too, but he didn't look upset. He looked proud.
"Funny," I said, feeling just the tiniest prickle of envy, "one day Caprice is an all-in-black beatnik, the next, a rosy princess."
This information didn't faze Karl at all, assuming it was news to him. "Kids in high school try on identities the way Mama tries on hats. But Caprice is a young woman now. This is the real Caprice."
Well, for Karl's sake, if a rosy princess was what he wanted, I hoped it was true. "What about me? Aren't I a young woman now too?"
Karl studied me before he answered. Finally he said, "You look like a young woman."
That
didn't quite answer my question, but I didn't press the issue. Just then Caprice waved good-bye to Karl's friends and joined us at the food table. She grabbed a plate and put a little of everything on it. "It all looks so good, and I am so starved!"
I'll bet you are, I thought. "Well, I'd better check on the rest of the guests and leave you two lovebirds alone." At the mention of the word "lovebirds" Karl and Caprice did not look the least bit annoyed. In fact, it put silly smiles on their faces, and tiny stars dancing in their eyes. I got out of there, fast. In doing so, I bumped smack into Joel.
"Well, if you want me that badly, just say so," Joel kidded. He gathered me into his arms. I recognized the voice of Dean Martin singing "Memories are Made of This" on the radio as we floated into a slow dance. Joel's dancing was as smooth as whipped cream. But I kept thinking I should be dancing with Nolan at my brother's farewell party, not Joel.
Chapter Seven
When the last guest was gone, the last dish washed and wiped, I went up to my room and flopped down on my bed. There had been lots of hugs and farewell kisses for Karl. I got my share too, good-natured ones from his buddies. Caprice stayed to "visit" some more with Karl, so Joel and I had a moment alone when he said good-bye. "Great party," he said. Then he'd given me a little kiss on the cheek, quick enough to be a just-friends kiss.
"Hey, sleepyhead, don't drift off. I need the keys to my car." Karl stood in my doorway, his face radiating good cheer.
I grabbed the keys and tossed them to Karl. "Going submarine watching with Caprice?"
Karl grinned. "Yeah, we might stop at the beach on the way to her house."
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"That doesn't leave much." Karl laughed.
I looked for something to throw at his back as he left, but everything around me was breakable. Just as well. Though Karl was only teasing, I figured it meant he wasn't too worried about me and Nolan. And if he wasn't too worried, then he wouldn't say anything to Mama and Papa. If he were going to be around longer, I'd have time to explain to him that there was nothing wrong with Nolan. Mama and Papa would disapprove only because he was a folksinger who performed in coffeehouses. That was their problem, not mine.
I wished I could talk to Nolan, tell him about the party, hear about his day at the beach. Maybe he was miserable without me. Well, I could hope. But I would not be jealous. There was no reason to be. Nolan said so. How many times had he said my worrying about him and other girls was all in my mind. I just needed to remember that.
To avoid staring at the phone in hopes that Nolan would call, I decided to go down the hall to the bathroom to brush my teeth. It wasn't much, but I had to do it anyway. On the way, I saw that the door to Karl's room was open. His duffle bag sat on the floor and the contents were spread around all around the room, draped on the bed, the dresser, even the wastebasket. The Navy had not turned him into a neat-nik.
On the dresser, next to some loose change, I spotted a tiny box resting on a piece of torn wrapping paper. The gift from Caprice. I couldn't help myself. I had to snoop. I tiptoed into the room, picked up the box, and carefully lifted the lid. Inside was a thin silver frame with a picture of Caprice. Though I was still adjusting to the idea of Caprice and Karl, this seemed right to me. In fact, I thought, I should have a picture of Nolan, and him one of me.
As I put the picture back, I noticed a dime sitting in the box. I thought that was odd, but maybe when Karl tossed his coins on the dresser the dime landed in the box. I placed the box back on the dresser, tiptoed out of the room, and quickly brushed my teeth. I hurried back to my room and hunted through my desk drawer until I found the manila envelope that held the remains of my school pictures. It was pretty nice, as school pictures go, and I had a couple of black-and-white wallet-sized photos left. I wondered if I should give Nolan just the picture, so he could carry it in his wallet, or put it in a frame. I decided I would give him only the picture. That way I could be casual about it. Oh, here, I had some extra photos and I thought you might like one. He would smile, thank me, and immediately slip it into his wallet. He would promise to find a special picture of himself to give to me. I put it in my wallet, so I'd be sure to have it the next time I saw him.
Just then the phone rang. Nolan! I answered on the first ring.
"Hello, Vija, it's Mrs. Kukk."
"Oh. Hello." I struggled to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
"Could you baby-sit for the boys tomorrow evening? About seven? It'll be just two or three hours."
"Tomorrow, around seven? Um ... sure." Even if Nolan called and wanted to see me tomorrow, it would most likely be in the daytime. "That's fine."
"Thank you so much!"
"You're welcome." No sooner did I hang up the phone, than it rang again. Maybe Mrs. Kukk changed her mind, or wanted me to come at a different time. "Hello?"
"Hey, Vija." It was Nolan.
"Hello, Nolan!"
"How was the party?"
"It was wonderful. So many people showed up. They devoured the food and—"
"That's nice," Nolan said. "I had a great day at Ocean Beach Park. The weather was perfect, it was high tide, the scenery was great, if you know what I mean."
"Mmm." I knew what he meant. The "scenery" was all the girls in bikinis.
"And I even lined up a gig at Connecticut College for Women this fall at one of the sororities. How 'bout that!"
"At the sorority? Um. That's nice."
"Nice? It's better than nice. CCW is in New London, it's a prestigious school, and this gig could lead to lots of others. Good ones."
"Oh. Of course. It's wonderful news."
"What'cha doin' tomorrow?"
Feeling a surge of joy that the subject had changed to what we'd be doing tomorrow, I said breezily, "I have to baby-sit for Mrs. Kukk tomorrow evening, but otherwise I'm free all day."
"I planned on seeing you tomorrow evening. Can't you get out of it?"
"I wish I could. But I can't."
It sounded as if Nolan breathed a little sigh of disgust. "Too bad."
"Yes ...." I was going to say that I could see him during the day, but I'd already mentioned that. No sense in pushing it.
"Well, I'll see ya."
I wanted to say when? But I bit my tongue, then barely said the words, "See you," before Nolan hung up.
***
It turned out to be just as well that I hadn't made any plans to see Nolan in the day, because at breakfast the next morning Papa told me he needed me to work with him. He knew I'd be babysitting, so he assured me that it wouldn't be all day, just the morning, going to a few houses in Monroe where some of his clients wanted some extra work done.
"Taking over for me, huh?" Karl teased.
"If you'd like to work with Papa today for old time's sake, I'll step aside," I kidded him.
"No thanks." Karl wiped his mouth with his napkin, then tossed it down on the table. "I'm going to the beach with Caprice."
A cold knot formed in my stomach as I realized why the idea of Karl and Caprice bothered me. If they became closer to each other than either ever was to me, where would that leave me? But I tried to sound cheerful as I said, "Have fun. And say 'hi' to Caprice for me."
Karl took off, and Papa and I loaded the truck for the day's work. We pushed two mowers up the planks, because I would help with the mowing as well as doing some hedge trimming. Though it was early, I was starting to sweat by the time we left. Mama set out the sprinkler as we drove away. It was going to be a hot day.
I unrolled the window. A warm breeze swept over me. I looked out the window, watching the morning unfold. As we passed Nicki's I searched the parking lot in case Nolan's motorcycle was there. I was glad to see it was not.
We turned off the main road towards the beach section of Monroe. Small cottages away from the water sat relaxed and close to the road, towels and bathing suits on clotheslines waving a casual hello. Closer to the beach larger houses stood more primly, their manicured yards demanding more r
espect. Then, waterside, rambling, turreted summer homes with their spacious yards and tall hedges commanded distance and privacy.
We pulled into the driveway of the Landers' place, a two-story house with black shutters and a wrap-around porch. A little sign at the foot of the driveway read, "Wit's End." It was more sophisticated than the Dew-Drop-Inn sort of name found on the small cottages, but I still thought it odd to name a house. Of course, if I had a second home along the shoreline, maybe I'd name it too.
The hedge did not need trimming, but the lawn was vast, and Mrs. Landers wanted every inch of it mowed twice. She wanted it mowed only every other week, because she didn't like the sound of lawn mowers and thought that somehow mowing it twice in one day made up for that. It never seemed to occur to her that over the summer she was getting the same number of minutes of lawnmower noise. But maybe she needed two weeks to recover from it.
Papa parked the truck along the driveway and we unloaded the mowers. I would mow the back yard, Papa the front, and then we would switch. It was less boring that way.
As I pushed the mower across the lawn, the grass seemed to resist the blades, even though they were freshly sharpened. My arms ached, and soon felt as rubbery as the hose coiled perfectly at the faucet by the back door. I lumbered from the sunshine to the shade and back to the sunshine. When I was done with the back yard, I headed toward the front, and met Papa on the way.
"Time for a break," he said, holding up the thermos of lemonade. "It's going to be hot today."
I flopped down on my back in the shade of the old oak tree standing in the side yard, and stared up at the parasol of leaves that protected me from the hot sky. I curled into a half-sitting position when Papa handed me a cup of the lemonade. The sweet, cold liquid felt good on my lips, tongue, and all the way down my throat. "Ah, that's good."
"Jâ," said Papa. "Your Mama makes a fine lemonade and this old thermos keeps it nice and cold."
We kept our break to ten minutes, because there was a lot of work to do and because customers always fretted that they would be charged for break time no matter how many times Papa assured them that they wouldn't.