Seems Like Old Times (13 page)

"No, Miriam, if they raise anything, it'll be a
ham." At Miriam’s expression, Lee smirked. Then they both began to
chuckle. "Why do I let you talk me into these things?"

"Because you want me to.
You
just don’t know it yet." Miriam sipped her creamy, sweet tea. "I
wonder what I should
wear?
My but people will be happy
to see you, Lisa. You know, since you’ll be at the picnic all day Sunday, you
probably will have lots of little things to do your last day here that might
get overlooked. I think you need to put off going home until Tuesday, don’t
you?"

o0o

That night as Lee drifted off to sleep, in that
half-awake, half-asleep nether world, her mind wandered back to the last time
she went to the Miwok picnic, back to the early hours, just before dawn....

The door to her bedroom banged against the wall. She
jumped, waking just as the light in her room was switched on. Blinded, she put
her arm in front of her eyes.
"Mother?"

"I won’t have it!"

Lisa sat up, blinking hard, instinctively recoiling
against the headboard even as she tried to wake. "Have what?" she
asked.

"Don’t play dumb with me!"

Judith leaned against the bedposts. Lisa smelled the
beer on her breath and turned her head away. Judith put her hand under Lisa’s
jaw and yanked her head around so that they faced each other, their noses
nearly touching.

"You’re not going to a family picnic with that
little
beaner
and his father. What would people think
of you? Of me, for letting you go?"

Lisa jerked herself free and scooted toward the edge of
the bed, tucking her legs under her. "I’m just going with Tony and some
other kids. No one will think anything of it, Mother."

Judith grabbed her wrist, twisting it as she pulled her
close. "Just Tony, she says! Just Tony! He’s a dirty little Mexican. Don’t
you have any common sense? Didn’t I raise you with any decency? Good girls
don’t go out with that kind of boy."

"We’re just friends."

"You’re acting like a slut!"

"Please mother!"

"He’ll drag you down to his level. You could have
been something. You could have made me proud--made the memory of your father
proud!"

"I didn’t do anything wrong!"

"You make me ashamed!"

Lee's memories hurled backwards to other times she'd been
awakened by Judith screaming about something real or imaginary. She hated
remembering those days, hated herself for the stupid things she did trying to
appease her mother. She didn’t want to think about it, but the memories
wouldn’t stop.

She turned over and over, peeling off the covers, tossing
them aside. No one would have ever believed that the once beautiful,
heartbreakingly tragic widow, Judith Reynolds, turned into Mr. Hyde when
midnight came.

And Lisa never told anyone about it, not Cheryl, not
Miriam, not even Tony. She had tried to act as if nothing was wrong. Not until
years later, when she was away and able to look back on her life in Miwok and
some distance and clarity, did she realize how transparent her brave little
front must have been.

It was only some nights, like before that picnic, when
Judith screamed and cried and acted as if she wanted to strike out, that Lisa
thought perhaps she should ask for help or advice from someone. But she never
did, and instead helped Judith hide her drinking.

With the wisdom that came from experience, she realized
that that had been the greatest mistake of all.

o0o

Miriam had said the town wanted to meet Lee Reynolds, so
Lee decided to do it up right. She drove twenty miles to Nordstrom’s in Corte
Madera, and found an off-white DKNY dress, matching sling-back heels, and a
flattering wide brimmed straw hat. She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything
like that in New York City, but it was perfect for the Miwok picnic. She looked
like she was going to a garden party on the White House lawn.

She brushed her hair into a loose knot at the crown,
then
used a hatpin to hold the hat in place.

The park was hot and crowded. She had perfected remaining
unflappable and
cool
in the headiest of situations,
and so her expression bore a constant, elegant smile as one person after
another introduced themselves. She was surprised at how many people she didn't
remember seemed to know her, and also by the number of stories they told her
about her childhood. "Do you remember me, Miss Reynolds?" was a
typical beginning for many such reminiscences. "I'm Mrs. So and so. I run
the bakeshop and whenever your mother would come in to buy a cake I'd give you
one of the red cupcakes with a clown head on top. You always wanted a red one,
remember?" Of course, Lee would nod and tell Mrs. So and so she'd always
remembered how delicious her baked goods were, sending the woman off beaming.

Some of the people, though, she really did remember. She
was touched to see Mrs. Campbell, her first grade teacher; Miss Gleason, the
piano instructor she tortured with bad playing for over six years until Judith
finally acquiesced that Lee would never
becomee
a
female Horowitz; and even her high school journalism teacher, Mr. Roberts, gave
her a stuttering hello. He was the one who started her off on the road to fame
and fortune, he told her. "So you're to blame," she teased. He
blushed, and strutted away with as wide a smile as she'd ever seen on a man.

After a while, she took off her hat and held it in her
right hand, which throbbed from having been crushed by overly friendly
greetings. Even her
well practiced
smile felt
strained.

To everyone else, though, she continued to portray a
picture of unruffled coolness and sophistication. Heads turn to follow the
tall, slim, golden woman, who seemed unbothered by the picnic’s swarms of
people waiting to meet her.

One of the people who came by was Gene
Cantelli
.

"Well," she said, "weren’t you the little
prankster?"

He looked so sheepish she quickly let him off the hook.
"It’s all right. I was glad to get a chance to talk to Tony again after
all these years."

He gave her a smile that showed white teeth under a thick
mustache.

Miriam sauntered over to them. She was wearing a pale blue
print sheath with spaghetti straps that showed off her tan, plus intricate
silver and turquoise Navajo jewelry. "Gene, let me introduce my
aunt," Lee said. "Miriam Dailey, Gene
Cantelli
.
He’s a good friend of Vic and Tony Santos."

His gaze quickly flickered over her from her red spiked
hair to her white
wedgies
, than back to her face as
he stuck out his hand. "You’re Lisa’s aunt? I thought you were supposed to
be old. But you look even younger than me."

Lee noticed that Miriam, taken aback, stood a little
straighter. "And how young is that, Mr.
Cantelli
?"

"Call me Gene. I’m fifty-nine."

"Well, I'm a teensy bit older.
But
not much."
She peered down her nose at him, but Lee noticed that
her eyes sparkled.

He put his hand on the back of his neck, his gaze catching
Lee’s then back to Miriam. "I’m sorry. That was pretty rude of me. It’s
just...you’re just...a surprise."

The two eyed each other, then Miriam began to smile, and
Gene grinned broadly. Lee was surprised to see a blush touch her aunt’s cheeks,
and to feel a sudden crackle in the air. "I can imagine what Lisa and Tony
told you about Lisa’s old aunt," Miriam said, slanting a quick glance at
Lee. "These kids think of the Kennedy assassination as the Dark Ages.
Anyone remembering it has to be older than dirt."

"That’s nothing," Gene said, his arms folded.
"I remember watching the Howdy-
Doody
on a big,
boxy black and white TV with a tiny screen."

Miriam arched an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, I used
to get teary-eyed listening to ‘When the Moon Comes
Over
the Mountain.’"

His amber eyes danced. "Ah, yes. The Kate Smith Show!
What a gal. What a lot of gal. Remember Milton
Berle
?"

"Of course!
How about
What’s
My Line?"

He snapped his fingers.
"With
Arlene Francis!"

"And Dorothy
Kilgallen
."

"She was the smart one, along with Bennett
Cerf." Head cocked, Gene eyed Miriam a long moment. "I'll bet you
don’t know Clayton Moore."

"How could I not know the Lone Ranger?" Hands on
hips, she said, "I even know the name of Roy Rogers’s dog?"

He stepped closer, a goofy smile plastered on his face.
"Bullet!
Garry Moore’s show?"

Grinning, too, she met him practically nose to nose.
"I’ve Got
A
Secret.
Lonesome
George?"

"
Gobel
!
A knight without armor in a savage land?"

Eyes locked, they both suddenly sang out, "Pa-a-a-a-
ladin
!"
Then erupted into laughter.

"Have you two gone nuts?" Lee said, looking from
one to the other. "What are you talking about?"

Gene glanced at Miriam and shook his head. "I’ll bet
she doesn’t even know who Mrs. Calabash is."

"Or
Topo
Gigio
.
Poor kid."

"How about some adult
beverage?"
Gene suggested. "They’re serving white wine at the
grandstand."

"Oh...that sounds lovely." Miriam beamed.
"Lisa?"

"No thanks," Lee said. "You children run
along. I’ll take my poor ignorant self over to Cheryl and see how she’s
doing." She stepped away and then watched in wonder as Miriam and Gene
walked off chatting and laughing like old friends. Miriam seemed to shed about
ten years, and Lee noticed that her aunt’s so-called bad knee had just made a
miraculous recovery.

She walked over to Cheryl. Her friend surrounded Lee with
her husband and children as well as her parents, Mark's parents, plus his two
brothers and their families.

It was good to see Cheryl, but as time passed and the
initial hellos with her family dwindled, Lee felt increasingly uncomfortable
sitting there with nothing to do but try to follow the huge family's multiple
conversations about people she didn't know. She fanned her face with her hat
before putting it on again. Her nylons were hot and sticky and her slip had
developed a severe case of static cling. She looked at the tee shirts and cut
offs the people around her wore with no small degree of wistfulness.
And self-amusement.
It was hard not to laugh out loud at
her own
vanity. Strangely, this flash of honesty banished
the sense of obligation she had felt, and she soon found herself withdrawing
into herself and relaxing, savoring the feel of the sun on her face, the smell
of the many barbecues, the cool crispness of the heavily-watered lawn under her
feet.

As families settled down to the serious business of
eating, Lee began to feel once more out of place despite everyone's best
efforts to make her comfortable. Perhaps it was because of the special efforts
that she felt so much in the way--as if the family could not sufficiently relax
with her nearby. The constant watchfulness and even eavesdropping of people at
nearby tables didn’t help the situation any. Unfortunately, this sort of thing
happened to her anymore with increasing regularity. She noticed that she took
the attention much more in her stride than the others were able to do.

"Look who's here, Lisa." Lee was pretending to
be fascinated by hamburgers browning on the grill when Cheryl spoke to her. She
turned. "You remember Vic Santos, don't you?
Tony's
father."

Of course she remembered him. He was the one person in
Miwok she felt truly disliked her. "Hello, Mr. Santos," she said,
holding out her hand.

 Black eyes skimmed over her with barely concealed
distaste. He was not a tall man, and he was built like a cannon ball--round,
hard and explosive, "Lisa." He grasped her hand. His brown skin, worn
from work and weather, felt like sandpaper against hers. "My grandson
talks about you a lot.
Another Santos on your side."

 Her face grew warm. "Ben is a very charming
boy."

"Too much like his father."

"That's a blessing, not a fault."

He tucked in his chin, almost belligerently.
"A
blessin
’, yeah, in most
things."

She caught his eyes, but found them unreadable.
"As you wish."

Cheryl tried to ease the tension. "Is Tony here,
Vic?"

"I doubt it. You know Tony. He hates anything that
don't
have a baseball and bat."

"That's too bad."

Vic gazed hard at Lee.
"Maybe.
Maybe not."

Lee stepped back. "Please excuse me. I think I'l1 get
something to eat."

"Good idea, Lisa," Cheryl said. "Will you
join us, Vic?"

"No, thanks.
So long, Cheryl.
Lisa."

"I don't understand," Lee said to Cheryl when
they were alone, "what I ever did to that man. He's always so
unfriendly."

"I doubt you did anything to him, Lisa. You never can
tell about people."

Lee wouldn't give in to the desire to look back over her
shoulder in the direction Vic had headed. Vic was certainly one Santos she
didn't have on her 'side' as he so nastily put it. She told herself she was
glad to hear Tony was most likely not going to show up here today.

She sat at a table eating a barbecued hamburger when Ben
ran up to her. She quickly glanced around, but his father wasn’t near.

"Hi, Lisa!"