The Darlings Are Forever

by Melissa Kantor

  Victoria started to cry. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “Look at this shirt.” Her father pointed at the photo and turned to his wife. “How could you let her out of the house in this?”

  Her mother put her hands up. “Don’t blame me! I didn’t see her wearing it.”

  “How could you even buy a shirt like this?” her father demanded.

  “I didn’t buy it,” Victoria said quickly. “It was a present. Jane gave it to me. As a joke.”

  “Fine, okay, it was a joke,” her mother allowed. “So you wear it at home, not out in public.”

  “I just thought…”

  Her father ran his fingers through his hair, then gave it a frustrated yank. “Were you and your friends drinking at this girl’s party?”

  Victoria shook her head violently. “No. No! I swear.”

  He snorted. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that.”

  “It’s true!” Victoria leaped to her feet. She looked pleadingly at Julie, but Julie was reading something on her BlackBerry.

  “Andrew,” her mother said quietly.

  He spun to face his wife. “What? She’s experimenting with condoms and wearing outrageous clothing. She lied to us. She and her friends got all dolled up and went to some party. And we’re supposed to believe she wasn’t drinking?” He glared at her. “Please, Victoria. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  By now Victoria was completely hysterical. “It’s true, Daddy. As soon as people started drinking, we left. I swear.”

  Her father shook his head slowly. “I’m just so disappointed, Victoria. What on earth could possibly have led you to have such bad judgment?” He looked back down at the fax in his hand. “Whose party was it?”

  “She goes to Gainsford,” Victoria managed to choke out, “with Natalya.”

  “Natalya!” For the first time in the conversation, her mother sounded genuinely shocked. “This was a party with Natalya’s friends?”

  Her father hadn’t taken his eyes off the picture he was holding. “Whose idea was it that you go to this party? Was it Natalya’s?”

  Still sobbing, Victoria nodded. Her father shook his head. “So Jane bought you this outrageous T-shirt, and Natalya convinced you to go to a party with a bunch of drunk rich kids. Very nice.” His voice was sharp with sarcasm. “That’s really what you want in friends.”

  “Drew,” her mother said softly. “Don’t blame Natalya and Jane. This is Victoria’s fault.” Her mother looked at her. “Am I wrong to say that, Victoria? Did they pressure you into going?”

  Now Victoria was crying too hard to answer, and her mom reached over and took her hand. “Victoria, you are such a sweet, innocent person. Those are two of your best qualities. But you’re old enough now to know—we thought you did know—that the world is not as sweet and innocent as you are.”

  Her mother’s words hung in the air. The only sound was Victoria’s quiet sobbing. Then Satan surged back into the room. “That was Tim Williams at the Times. He’s going to cover the nursing home visit. A nice, wholesome family outing. And it will run next Sunday—seventy-two hours before the polls open.” He rubbed his hands together greedily.

  Victoria inhaled a deep, ragged breath.

  “Why don’t you go splash some cold water on your face,” suggested her mother.

  Her father pressed his index finger into the table so hard the tip turned white. “Except for school and campaign events, you are grounded, young lady. We expect you home immediately after school every day, and you are not going out on the weekends.” He turned to her mother. “We’ll see if Emily can come up next weekend to watch her. We have to be upstate.”

  Victoria couldn’t believe she’d heard right. “Emily?! Emily’s going to babysit me?”

  Her father’s head snapped around, and he glared at her.

  “That’s right. When you show the judgment of a child, you get treated like a child.”

  “But—” Emily? Emily?! Victoria remembered how she’d considered telling Emily about the party, how she’d imagined Emily’s finally seeing her as an equal.

  But instead the party had turned Emily into her babysitter?!

  “Go to your room, Victoria,” her father commanded. “I have nothing left to say on this subject.”

  Victoria turned and left the room, glad her back was to her parents and they couldn’t see that she’d started to cry again. Why was this happening to her? She never did anything wrong, and the one time she did, she got caught. And not just caught but put on the cover of the newspaper. Everyone would see that picture—her teachers, the kids at school.

  And what would Jack think? Clearly that he should never, ever have spoken to her, much less kissed her. She could practically hear the voice mail message he’d leave her tomorrow. Um, hey, it’s Jack. I’m into taking pictures for newspapers, not being in them. So, if it’s all the same to you, can we just pretend that whole “thing” in the kitchen never happened. Actually, I’m already pretending that. Who are you? Why am I leaving you this message? Whatever. Bye.

  Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it out of her bag. It was another text from Natalya and Jane.

  V???? Where r u???

  Rather than responding, she scrolled through their other texts from earlier.

  Do u want 2 b sexy scientists?

  R u still cooking?

  R u alive? Call us!!!!

  There they were, laughing and joking together while she was locked in her room like some kind of criminal. And it wasn’t as if Jane would even get in trouble if Victoria’s parents called her mother—hadn’t Jane already told her mom she was going to the party? And no one would be posting pictures of Natalya in the Mirror. She could go on with her life like nothing had even happened.

  It was so unfair. Victoria thought about what her mother had said. Did they pressure you into going? Holding her phone to her chest, she flopped onto her bed. Had they pressured her? She couldn’t remember the exact conversation, but she had definitely said they shouldn’t go to the party. And that they shouldn’t lie to their parents. And then…hadn’t she said Jane and Natalya should go without her? And hadn’t they said they wouldn’t go if she didn’t go? That she basically had to go? And wasn’t that when she’d finally said, Okay, I’ll go.

  And now she was the one who was under house arrest, and they were having fun planning costumes to wear to the awesome gala that Victoria couldn’t go to because she was grounded. Grounded for going to a party she hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place.

  The more she thought about how unfair it was, the angrier she got. She stood up and shoved her phone back into her bag, then lay down on her stomach on her bed in the darkening room.

  Why should she bother to call them back?

  SATURDAY MORNING, JANE rolled over and looked down from her bed at Natalya, who’d slept on an air mattress on the floor. “What if you go as a table and Victoria goes as a chair?”

  Natalya, who had her phone pressed to her ear, laughed. “What if you bag your dress rehearsal and you and I go as hydrogen atoms and Victoria goes as an oxygen atom and we each carry an empty glass?” She was laughing so hard she was almost choking.

  Jane laughed too. “I’m laughing, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Water,” Natalya gasped. “We’d be a water molecule.”

  Jane laughed so hard she literally rolled off the bed. “That is so incredibly stupid, I almost can’t believe it.”

  “I know,” Natalya agreed, still laughing. For what felt like the millionth time, Victoria’s recorded voice played in her ear. Natalya shook her head in frustration. “I can’t leave another message.”

  “Leave another message,” Jane ordered, climbing back onto her bed.

  “…after the beep,” Victoria’s outgoing message concluded. “Hey, it’s us again.” Natalya said. “Where are you?”

  “Tell her we’re going to be forced to call her on a landline.”

  “We’re going to call yo
u on a landline,” Natalya informed her phone. When it didn’t respond, she added, “So, yeah, think about that. And just…you know, call us back.” She hung up. “I think that’ll definitely scare her into calling.”

  “This is so weird.” Jane checked the time on her alarm clock. Ten fifteen. “Could she still be asleep?”

  Natalya considered Victoria’s evening. “Maybe she got home late from the baking thing, had to rush really fast to get dressed to go out with her parents, got home late, and she’s not up yet.”

  Jane stared at her. “But she would have texted? Or…something.”

  “Phone’s dead?” Natalya offered. When Jane kept staring, Natalya shrugged. “Well, I don’t know.”

  Jane checked her clock again. “I have to be at dress rehearsal at one.”

  Natalya opened her eyes wide with mock hopefulness and smiled at Jane. “I know! You can snag me and Vicks costumes!”

  In lieu of an answer, Jane chucked a pillow at Natalya’s head.

  “Hey!” Natalya objected, just as there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” they both called. A second later, Jane’s mom was standing on the threshold in a pair of black yoga pants and a white T-shirt, her hair held off her face by a pair of small silver clips. She was carrying a shopping bag in one hand and a folded-up newspaper in the other. Her face was pale.

  “Hi, Mom,” said Jane. Sometimes she and her mom did yoga together on Saturday mornings, but not when her mom got up to hit the eight a.m. class.

  Her mother sat on the edge of Jane’s bed and looked from Jane to Natalya. “Has either of you spoken to Victoria this morning?”

  Both girls bolted upright.

  “Something happened to her dad!” Jane cried.

  “Oh my god!” gasped Natalya.

  “No,” Jane’s mother said quickly. “It’s nothing like that. It’s…” She sighed, then slowly unfolded the paper.

  Jane grabbed it. As soon as her eyes saw the cover photo, she cried out as if in pain.

  Natalya lurched toward the bed and huddled on her knees next to Jane, staring at the paper. “Nooo!” she wailed.

  “The poor thing,” said Jane’s mother. She pressed her fingers to her eyelids and shook her head sadly. “Of all the people for this to happen to.”

  “That’s why she hasn’t called,” Natalya whispered. She studied the cover. “Wait, isn’t that Jack?”

  With shaking hands, Jane turned to the spread on pages four and five, where the article was. There were pictures of Victoria that they’d seen before—a family portrait that had been taken in June; a shot of Victoria and Emily from the weekend the family had dropped Emily off at Princeton; a few “candid” snaps from campaign events—and then there were unfamiliar ones: Victoria and Jack high-fiving and holding the condom-ed banana; a picture from Morgan’s party of Victoria and Morgan walking arm in arm; one of Victoria alone on the love seat in the library, her head thrown back in what could easily have been drunken laughter.

  “That bitch,” Jane muttered.

  “What?” asked Natalya, skimming the text. “…a party earlier this month at an Upper Eastside mansion…other Facebook photos that show attendees drinking.…The candidate’s daughter, who clearly enjoys a good time, undoubtedly shares her father’s liberal values.…Wait,” said Natalya, “who’s a bitch?”

  Jane stared at Natalya as if she’d never encountered such stupidity in her life. “Isn’t it obvious? Morgan posted these pictures of Victoria.”

  “No she didn’t,” Natalya protested. “She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do something to make Victoria look bad. She and her parents are big Andrew Harrison supporters.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then both Jane and Natalya realized the significance of what Natalya had just said.

  “Oh. My. God.” Jane spoke the words slowly, staring at Natalya.

  “What?” asked Natalya, not meeting Jane’s eyes.

  Jane continued to stare, then slowly shook her head back and forth in amazement. “That’s why Morgan invited you to the party. Because of Victoria. I knew there was something that didn’t make sense.”

  Natalya jumped backward off the bed and stared down at Jane. “What, Morgan couldn’t just like me? She couldn’t just like me for me?”

  “Girls,” said Jane’s mother. She reached out and put a hand on each of their arms. Her voice was low and serious. “Whatever issues you two might have about this Morgan girl, now isn’t the time. You have to think of Victoria. You have to help her.” She took a deep breath that ended in her making a small clucking noise at the back of her throat. “Think of how awful this must be for her.”

  Jane pressed her palm to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

  “Me too,” said Natalya.

  “My mom’s right,” said Jane. She stood up, crossed the room, and grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor.

  “What are you doing?” asked Natalya, staring at her.

  “Get dressed.” Jane was digging around in her dresser for a shirt.

  “What do you mean, ‘get dressed’?”

  Jane snapped her head in Natalya’s direction. “We’re going over there.”

  IT WAS CREEPY how there was a police barricade around the entrance to Victoria’s building, and a cop car with its lights flashing parked right out front. Across the street a crowd of photographers waited, their cameras at the ready. Natalya and Jane hesitated before entering the small walkway between the blue barriers marked police line, do not cross, but then the doorman recognized them. He waved them through, and they walked under the awning and entered the building.

  “Hello, girls.” He beckoned. “Come in. Come in.” He was a gray-haired man who’d worked as a doorman in the Harrisons’ building since before Natalya and Jane had known Victoria. He smiled at them, almost as if he were Victoria’s uncle or an old family friend, and quickly turned to dial Victoria’s apartment on the intercom. “I’m sure Victoria will be very happy to see the two of you,” he said, pressing the button for her apartment.

  But despite his repeated buzzing, there was no answer.

  “Did she go out somewhere?” asked Jane finally.

  The doorman shook his head and buzzed again. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrison left, but she wasn’t with them.” He held up a finger to indicate that something was happening. “Ah! Hello, Victoria. I have your friends here to see you.” He listened for a minute before nodding and hanging up. “She’ll see you.”

  “Thanks,” said Jane, and she and Natalya sprinted to the elevator.

  Victoria came to the door wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, her hair in a sloppy ponytail. Natalya reached out to embrace her.

  “Hi.” Victoria’s voice was as limp as her hair, and she endured Natalya’s embrace more than she returned it.

  Jane put her arms around Victoria, too. “Are you okay?”

  Victoria didn’t answer, just stood with her hand on the doorknob, almost like she was trying to block their entrance to the apartment. “Look, guys, my parents are going to be really mad if they find you here. They’re coming back any minute, and I still have to take a shower and get dressed. We have to go to this thing at a nursing home.”

  “What happened?” asked Natalya.

  “What’d they say?” asked Jane. “Are you grounded?”

  Victoria dropped her eyes to the floor and nodded.

  Natalya put her hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “Oh no!”

  “That sucks,” Jane agreed. “Okay, what we need to do is come up with a way to explain what happened. You know, spin it so it doesn’t look so bad.…” She squinted up at the ceiling as though there might be a reasonable explanation for what they’d done hidden there.

  “No thanks,” Victoria said quickly, her voice sharp.

  Jane heard something in her tone that made her study Victoria’s face. Victoria met her stare for a minute, then looked away.

  “Vicks?” Jane asked.

  “Look,
I told you, I’m grounded, okay? You can’t be here.” Neither Jane nor Natalya had ever heard her sound quite so angry.

  There was silence, and then Natalya cleared her throat. “Are you…are you mad at us or something?”

  Victoria shrugged. Natalya and Jane waited for her to say, No, of course not! Why would I be mad at you?—but instead, the silence between them grew.

  “Are you?” Jane repeated after a long pause.

  Still not meeting their eyes, Victoria said, “I said you need to go. Why aren’t you listening to me?” She slapped her forehead. “Oh, wait, why am I surprised? You never listen to me.”

  Victoria, Jane, and Natalya had been friends for ten years. In all that time, Jane and Natalya had never once heard Victoria be sarcastic.

  Until now.

  Completely bewildered, Jane asked, “Vicks, what are you talking about?”

  Victoria met Jane’s confused eyes with a cold stare. “I said we shouldn’t go to the party. I said it was a bad idea to lie to our parents. But did you listen to me? Nooo. Because you never listen to me.” She turned slightly as if she were someone else addressing herself. “‘Oh, Victoria, I bought this shirt for you.’” Then she turned back and faced the other direction. “‘I can’t wear a shirt that says FOXY LADY, Jane.’ ‘You are wearing it, Victoria. If we can wear it, you can wear it.’ ‘Oh, wait! But your dads aren’t running for national office.’”

  “Vicks, that’s not what—” Jane tried to interrupt, but Victoria ignored her, continuing to act out a drama in which she played both roles.

  “‘I don’t think we should go to this party, guys.’ ‘Of course we should go. You want to face your fears, don’t you? You don’t want to be some Goody Two-shoes for the rest of your life, do you?’”

  “I’d never call you a Goody Two-shoes!” Natalya objected.