by Sarah Dessen
‘He was particularly impressed,’ she said, ‘with your newfound social life. Apparently you’ve got scads of friends and a serious boyfriend as well?’
The fact that this last part was phrased as a question pretty much said everything about how she felt about it personally. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend,’ I told her.
‘Just a boy you spend your nights with.’ A statement, this time.
I looked at myself in the mirror again. ‘Yep,’ I told her. ‘That’s about right.’
Among all the other sudden changes in my brother, he was now an early riser – Hollis, who’d always slept past noon – as well as a jogger. He and Laura ran every day at sunrise, then came home to do yoga stretches and meditate. Although apparently, he wasn’t that immersed in his oms and namastes. When he heard me come in the morning after their arrival, he immediately came to investigate.
‘Auden Penelope West,’ he said, wagging a finger at me as I carefully shut the door behind me. ‘Look at you, doing the walk of shame!’
‘I’m not ashamed,’ I replied, although I did kind of wish he’d keep it down.
‘And who is this young man dropping you off?’ he asked, pulling aside a blind to peer out at Eli, who was backing his truck out of the driveway. ‘Shouldn’t he have to show himself, get my approval before taking you out courting?’
I just looked at him. From the living room, I could hear Laura chanting.
‘My little sister,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Staying out all night with a boy. Seems like just yesterday you were playing Barbies and skipping rope.’
‘Hollis, please,’ I said. ‘Mom considered Barbies weapons of chauvinism, and nobody’s skipped rope since 1950.’
‘I just can’t believe,’ he said, ignoring this, ‘you’re growing up so fast. Next you’ll be married and bouncing a baby on your knee.’
I ignored this, walking past him to the stairs, but it didn’t stop him, not then, and not the mornings that followed, when he always managed to be waiting for me, opening the door as I came up the front walk. One day he was actually sitting on the porch when we pulled up, necessitating both an introduction and a conversation with Eli.
‘Nice guy,’ he’d said, when I’d finally wrangled him away. ‘What’s with the scars on his arm, though?’
‘Car accident,’ I told him.
‘Really? What happened?’
‘I don’t really know, actually.’
He shot me a doubtful look as he pulled the front door open for me. ‘Seems kind of weird, considering how much time you two spend together.’
I shrugged. ‘Not really. It just hasn’t come up.’
I could tell he didn’t believe me, not that I cared. I’d long ago stopped trying to explain my relationship with Eli to anyone, including myself. It wasn’t any one thing, but many strung together: long nights, trips to Park Mart and Builder’s Supply, pie with Clyde, bowling in the early morning, and my quest. We didn’t talk about our scars, the ones you could see, and the ones you couldn’t. Instead, I was having all the fun and frivolousness I was due in one summer, night by night.
Now, my mother took another sip of her wine as I left the bathroom, heading back down the hall. Thisbe’s door was slightly ajar, and I could hear her waves, steady and crashing, over and over again.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘frankly, I’m glad to hear you’re not getting involved with someone. The last thing you need before you head off to Defriese is some boy begging you to stay with him. A smart woman knows a fling is always best.’
There had been a time when I liked my mother to think we were similar. Even craved it. But hearing this, I felt a weird twinge, something not settling right. What I was doing with Eli wasn’t like her and her graduate student(s).
‘So,’ I said, shaking this off, ‘how’s Hollis doing?’
She sighed, loud and long. ‘He’s insane. Completely insane. I came home yesterday and do you know what he was doing?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Wearing a tie.’ She gave this a minute to sink in, then added, ‘She had him interviewing for a job at a bank. Your brother! Who this time last year was living in a tent on the side of a mountain in Germany!’
It was just too easy to get my mom off my back these days. One mention of Hollis, and she was off and running. ‘A bank,’ I said. ‘What’s he going to be, a teller or something?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said irritably. ‘I didn’t even ask, I was so horrified. He did volunteer, however, that Laura thinks employment might help him to be “more responsible” and “prepared for their future together”. Like that’s a good thing. I don’t even think this is a relationship, it’s so dysfunctional. I don’t know what to call it.’
‘Call it chicken salad.’
‘What?’
Too late, I realized this had slipped out, without me even realizing it. ‘Nothing,’ I told her.
I heard footsteps, and looked down the hall just in time to see Heidi and my dad coming upstairs. From the looks of it they, too, were having a pretty intense conversation: my dad was throwing his arms around, his annoyed face on, while she just shook her head. I eased my door shut, switching my phone to my other ear.
‘… ridiculous,’ my mom was saying now. ‘Two years of culture and travel, and for what? To sit and process deposits all day long? It’s heartbreaking.’
She really sounded sad. Still, I couldn’t help but say, ‘Mom, most people Hollis’s age have jobs, you know. Especially if they aren’t in school.’
‘I didn’t raise either of you to be like most people,’ she replied. ‘Don’t you know that by now?’
I had a flash of myself the night before, standing at the Park Mart with Eli, in the toy section. He’d stopped by a big display of rubber sport balls, pulling one out and bouncing it on the floor. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he said. ‘Hear that?’
‘The bouncing noise?’
‘It’s more,’ he told me, ‘than a bouncing noise. That is the noise of imminent pain.’
I looked at the ball, still moving up and down under his open palm. ‘Pain?’
‘In dodgeball,’ he explained. ‘Or kickball, if you were playing the way we did.’
‘Wait!’ I said, holding up my hand. ‘I have played dodgeball. And kickball.’
‘Really.’
I nodded.
‘I’m impressed. And they aren’t even indoor sports.’
‘Oh, it was, actually. At school, in the gym.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘What? It’s the same game.’
‘Actually it’s not,’ he said.
‘Come on.’
‘Seriously. There’s school rules, and neighborhood rules. The two are very different.’
‘Says who?’
‘Anybody who has played both,’ he said, tossing the ball back. ‘Trust me.’
Now, my mother took another sip of her wine. ‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ she said. ‘A packet has arrived for you. From Defriese. Orientation information, I’m assuming. Would you like for me to open it?’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
There was the sound of paper tearing, then crinkling. She sighed. ‘As I suspected. Meal plan info, updated transcript requests, a roommate questionnaire… which is due at the end of the week, apparently.’
‘Really.’
‘For God’s sake.’ She groaned. ‘It’s like a compatibility test! “What activities do you enjoy?” “Would you say you are a workaholic, or more carefree with your studies?” What is this, higher education or Internet dating?’
‘Just stick it in the mail to me,’ I said. ‘I’ll get it back as fast as I can.’
‘And if you’re late, you’ll end up with some carefree, activity-loving roommate. We’re better off filling it out now,’ she muttered. ‘Oh, wait a moment. There’s a second page here, where you can request “alternate living arrangements”.’
‘Meaning what?’
She didn’t say anything for a moment, busy reading. Then, ‘There are c
ertain floors and dorms you can request where everyone has a specific focus, such as foreign languages or sports. Let me just… ah. Perfect.’
I heard a pen scritching. ‘What’s perfect?’
‘The Pembleton Program,’ she replied. ‘I just signed you up for it.’
‘What?’
She cleared her throat, then read aloud. ‘“Housed in a dorm removed from the main campus, the Pembleton Program offers academically strong students an environment dedicated solely to their studies. With single rooms, on-site research materials, and close access to both libraries, members of Pembleton are free to focus on their work without the distractions of regular dorm life.”’
‘Which means…’
‘No roommate, no parties, no nonsense. It’s just what you want.’
‘Um,’ I said. ‘I don’t know. It sounds kind of restrictive, don’t you think?’
‘Not at all,’ she replied. ‘You won’t have to deal with drunk frat boys and hormonal, gossiping girls. It’s ideal. Now, I’ll just sign your name here, and we can –’
‘Don’t,’ I said quickly. I could feel her surprise, could see her on the other end of the phone, pen in hand, eyebrows raised. ‘I mean, I’m not really sure I want to live there.’
Silence. Then, ‘Auden. I don’t think you understand how distracting it can be to live in a dorm environment. There are people who come to college purely for the social life. Do you really want to be stuck in a room with someone like that?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘But I don’t want to spend every single second studying either.’
‘Oh.’ Her voice was flat. ‘I suppose this is part of your blossoming, then? Suddenly school isn’t important anymore, just boys and girlfriends and clothes?’
‘Of course not. But –’
A sigh, loud, filling my ear. ‘I should have known spending the summer with Heidi would do this to you,’ she said. ‘I spend eighteen years teaching you about the importance of taking yourself seriously, and in a matter of weeks you’re wearing pink bikinis and totally boy crazy.’
‘Mom,’ I said, my voice rising. ‘This isn’t about Heidi.’
‘No,’ she shot back. ‘It’s about your sudden lack of drive and focus. How could you let yourself get this way?’
Hearing this, I had a flash of my dad, attributing all I’d done to the name he’d chosen for me. All the good was their doing; the bad, mine. I bit my lip. ‘I haven’t changed,’ I told her. ‘This is just me.’
Silence. And I knew, within it, that the fact this might be true was worse than any frat boy or pink bikini ever could be.
‘Well, I’ll just stick this in the mail.’ She drew in a breath, stiff, formal. ‘You make your own decision.’
I swallowed. ‘Okay.’
For a moment, neither of us said anything, and I wondered what could possibly follow this. How we could come back from such an impasse, this huge expanse stretching between us. There were a million different ways, I was sure, but my mom surprised me by not choosing any of them. Instead, she hung up, leaving me with a simple click, the last word, and no idea where to go from here.
Apparently, conflict was contagious, or at least in the air. When I left my room about twenty minutes later to head to work, Thisbe’s waves had stopped, and another steady noise was coming from her room: the sound of bickering.
‘Of course you deserve a night out,’ my father was saying. ‘I’m just not sure tonight is the right one, is all I’m saying.’
‘Why not?’ Heidi asked. I could hear Thisbe making noises in the background. ‘I’ll be back for the nine o’clock feeding, the baby’s just had a nap…’
‘Nine o’clock!
It’s only five thirty right now!’
‘Robert, we’re having cocktails and dinner.’
‘Where? Istanbul?’ my dad said. ‘There’s no way that will take three and a half hours.’
There was a prolonged silence. I didn’t have to peek inside to imagine the look on Heidi’s face. Finally my dad said, ‘Honey, I want you to go have fun. But it’s been a long time since I’ve been alone with a newborn for that long, and I just…’
‘She’s not a newborn. She’s your daughter.’ Thisbe sputtered, as if agreeing with this. ‘You’ve raised two lovely children. You can do this. Now go ahead and take her so I can go finish getting ready.’
I heard my dad start to say something, but then the door was opening, and I darted out of sight. Not fast enough, though.
‘Auden?’ he called out. ‘Could you –’
‘No, she can’t,’ Heidi said over her shoulder. Then she nudged me forward. ‘Keep walking. He’s fine.’
When we got to the stairs, I turned to look at her. Instead of the Heidi I’d gotten used to seeing, clad in sweats and a ponytail, dark circles perennially under her eyes, this was a different woman entirely. Her hair was sleek, her makeup done, and she was wearing dark jeans, heels, and a fitted black top, a silver necklace with a key studded with red stones around her neck. This I recognized: we’d just gotten them in at the store the previous week, and they were already selling like hotcakes.
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘You look great.’
‘You think?’ She glanced down at herself. ‘It’s been so long since I could wear this stuff I didn’t even know if it would fit. I guess stress does burn a lot of calories, after all.’
Down the hall, I could hear Thisbe beginning to fuss. Heidi looked over, then turned on her heel, walking to her bedroom. I followed her to the doorway, leaning against it as she picked up her purse from the bed.
‘So I have to say,’ I said as she rummaged around, finally pulling out a lip gloss, ‘you sure seem different all of a sudden. And it’s not just the clothes.’
Thisbe was really crying now. Heidi bit her lip, then uncapped the gloss, putting some on. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I just… I’ve realized over the last couple of weeks that I needed to take some time for myself. We’ve talked about it a lot, actually.’
‘You and Dad?’
‘Me and Karen.’
‘Really,’ I said.
She nodded, dropping the gloss back in the bag. ‘Ever since the baby was born I’ve been so hesitant to ask your dad for any help. I’m so used to doing everything myself, and it wasn’t like he was really offering much.’
‘Or any,’ I said.
‘But Karen kept pointing out that you and your brother were just fine, and he was your dad as well. She said it takes two to make a baby, and at least that many to raise one well. Usually more.’ She smiled. ‘She made me promise her that I’d set up that girls’ night my friends have been wanting forever. I was dragging my feet, though, until Laura came. When she said pretty much the same thing, I figured they had to be onto something.’
I watched as she checked her hair in the mirror, adjusting a piece in front. ‘I didn’t realize you and Laura talked when she was here.’
‘Oh, we didn’t at first,’ she replied, picking up her purse. ‘To be honest, she kind of scared the crap out of me. Not exactly the warmest person, you know?’
I nodded. ‘No kidding.’
‘But then the night before they left, I was up late with Thisbe, and she came down for a glass of water. At first she was just sitting there, watching us, and eventually I asked her if she wanted to hold her. She said yes, so I handed her over, and then we just started talking. There’s a lot more to her than it seems at first glance.’
‘You should tell my mother that,’ I said. ‘She hates her.’
‘Of course she does,’ she said. ‘It’s because they’re so similar. They both have that whole cold, bitchy, wary-ofall-other-women thing going on. It’s like two magnets repelling each other.’
I thought of my mother just moments earlier on the phone, her voice so sharp and dismissive. If I wasn’t like her, she didn’t care to know who I was. ‘So you think my mom has more to her than that, as well?’
‘Of course she does. She has to.’
‘Becaus
e…’
She looked at me. ‘Because she raised you. And Hollis. And she was in love with your father for a very long time. Truly cold bitches don’t do that.’
‘What do they do?’
‘They end up alone.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘You sound awfully sure about that.’
‘I am,’ she said. ‘Because I was one.’
‘You?’ I said. ‘No way.’
She smiled. ‘Someday I’ll tell you all about it. But now, I’ve got to run and kiss my daughter and then try to leave without having a breakdown. Okay?’
I nodded and was still standing there, trying to process this, as she started into the hallway. When she passed me, she paused, bending down to quickly kiss my forehead before moving on, the smell of her perfume lingering behind her. Maybe it was to prove her point. Or just instinct. Either way, it was surprising. But not as much as the fact that I didn’t really mind it, not at all.
Later that night, I was walking to the Gas/Gro after work when I heard a car coming up behind me. A moment later, a newspaper landed with a slap at my feet.
I looked at it, then at Eli, who was now pulling up beside me. ‘So you have a paper route now?’
‘Technically,’ he replied as I picked up the paper, noticing the stacks of others piled up in the back of the truck, ‘my friend Roger has a paper route. But he also has the flu, so I’m helping him out. Plus, I thought it might apply to your quest.’
‘Delivering papers?’
‘Sure.’ He stopped the car, gesturing for me to open the passenger door. When I did, he said, ‘It’s a rite of passage. My first job was delivering the Colby Coupon Clipper on my bike.’
‘I’ve had jobs,’ I told him.
‘Yeah? What were they?’
‘I worked for a professor in the English department one summer, helping with a bibliography for his book,’ I said, as I slid inside. ‘Then I worked for my mom’s accountant as an office assistant. And all last year I did test prep at Huntsinger.’
Personally, I’d always thought this was a pretty impressive résumé. Eli, however, just gave me a flat look. ‘You,’ he said, hitting the gas, ‘definitely need a paper route. At least for one night.’