Alice Alone (5 page)
“What did Sal have to say?” asked Lester.
“Familiarity breeds contempt,” I said.
Lester grinned. “She’s got that right,” he said. “Every time you wash your undies and drape them over my towel in the bathroom, kiddo, I want to toss you out the window along with them.”
We had dinner ready when Dad got home around six-thirty, and I spent the rest of the evening at the dining room table doing my homework. Lester did the dishes, then went up to his room to read, and Dad sat on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, a clipboard on his lap, writing to Sylvia Summers.
About nine-thirty, I’d just gone out in the kitchen to get some chocolate grahams when the
doorbell rang, and a few moments later I heard Dad’s voice in the hallway. “Janice!”
Janice’s voice: “I know it’s late, Ben, but could I come in for a few minutes?”
“Of course! Something happen at the store this evening?”
I heard the door close and their feet crossing the hallway into the living room.
“That for me?” Lester yelled from upstairs.
“No, Les. Janice just dropped by,” said Dad.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t very well take my graham crackers back into the dining room and sit there chewing while they talked. But if I stayed in the kitchen I’d be eavesdropping. What I should have done was go upstairs, but I didn’t.
Dad: “You look upset.”
Janice: “I
am
upset. I didn’t want to bring this up at the store, Ben, so I decided to come by and tell you in person. I’ll be leaving the Melody Inn at the end of September.”
“Janice! Why on earth?”
“I’ve asked the main office for a transfer, and they’ll let me know. I can’t go on working for a man I don’t trust.”
“What? Janice, sit down. Please!”
More footsteps, then a pause. Then the squeak of the couch springs.
“I’ve worked for you for six years, Ben. Longer than any of your other employees, and the store has had its ups and downs. But I thought we made a good team.”
“We did, Janice! We do! What do you mean, you don’t trust me?”
“I don’t expect you to tell me everything that goes on in your life,” Janice said, and now her voice was trembling. “But when it’s a subject as intimate as marriage, and I have to hear about it from a part-time employee …”
“Ah.” It was a cross between a sigh and an exclamation, and Dad paused. “Marilyn told you that Sylvia and I are engaged. Right?”
“Can you understand how that made me feel, Ben? Hearing it from her? She gets the news and I don’t?”
“Janice, I swear. I know I’m a fool when it comes to social relations sometimes, but it was only because she came right out and asked. I mean, these young women, they just ask these things, so I told her. I didn’t think … I honestly didn’t think you’d be that interested.”
Out in the kitchen I clutched my head and closed my eyes. Even
I
didn’t think my dad would say something quite so stupid.
“Y-you didn’t think I’d be
interested?
I’m speechless,” said Janice.
Dad didn’t answer. “All these years of loving you … ,” she said quietly.
“Janice!”
“And I knew it wasn’t reciprocated. I can’t blame you for that.”
“Janice, I’ve always been fond of you. You know that.”
“‘Fond’ won’t do it, Ben. But I did think you’d have the courtesy—the decency—to let me know first if you became engaged to another woman.”
“I was thoughtless and stupid not to tell you first, and I apologize. But is this reason enough for you to leave? Move somewhere else?”
“I think so. I may even make manager at another store, who knows?”
“Well, if that happens, it will be my great loss and another’s gain, Janice. I can only wish you the best of luck, and I mean that sincerely. You’ll do a great job wherever you are. I’m just sorry you feel this way.”
“So am I, Ben.”
I moved my head an inch at a time until I could just see around the doorway into the living room. Janice was getting up from the couch, her purse tucked under her arm like a rifle. She walked stiffly across the room toward the front door. I edged back again until I heard my father’s footsteps, too, in the hall. Then I peeked again.
“Can I count on you until the end of the month?” he asked.
“Yes. You can count on that,” Janice said. “Good-bye, Ben.” Suddenly she threw her arms around Dad’s neck, her purse dropping to the floor, and pressed her mouth against his. Dad stood as stiff as a broom handle, his palms resting lightly against her waist, but his fingers bent back away from her, afraid, it seemed, to touch her any more than necessary.
Before he could say a word, she turned again, swooped down to pick up her purse, then went out the front door, closing it behind her.
Dad didn’t move.
Les was coming downstairs in his stocking feet. I emerged from the kitchen, and we joined Dad there in the hallway. I didn’t know what to say, so I let Les do the talking. He grinned a little ruefully at Dad and said, “Well, Pops, you win some, you lose some.”
Dad shook his head. “Can you imagine? And all because Marilyn found out before she did.”
But Lester said, “I think it was the only excuse she could come up with. It was only a matter of time before she left. It would have been unbearable for her, once you were married, to have to listen to
Sylvia and I did this,
and
Sylvia and I did that.
”
“You’re probably right, but I’d no idea she was
this unhappy. What am I going to do? Who will I find to replace her? Janice knows the store almost better than I do. She’s a terrific asset!”
“Won’t the corporation send someone else?”
“They always give us a chance to find someone local first.”
“Well, the advice you’d give me is to sleep on it, so why don’t you?” Lester said.
“I guess I will.” But Dad still didn’t move; he just stood in the hallway with a dazed look on his face. “Will somebody please explain why the major problems in this household concern romance?” he asked plaintively.
“’Cause love makes the world go around, Dad,” I told him.
“And it makes me dizzy,” Dad said.
There were even more people on Saturday than I’d expected. Kids invited other kids, I guess. The usual crowd was there, the ones who hang out at Mark Stedmeister’s pool in the summer: Patrick, Elizabeth and Pamela, Brian and Mark, Karen and Jill, and, lately, Gwen and her boyfriend, Legs. I’d invited two friends from school, Lori Haynes and her friend Leslie, mostly because some of the girls had been so awful to them back in eighth grade, but I wanted to know Lori better.
Justin Collier came, of course—the guy who likes Elizabeth—but I was surprised when Sam Mayer showed up with his girlfriend, Jennifer. Sam had asked me to the eighth-grade semiformal last spring, not realizing, I guess, that Patrick and I were a couple. That made fifteen people, and Mark had invited Penny, so that was sixteen. Penny’s dad actually came to the door to make sure an
adult was present. But the biggest surprise of all was that an hour after everyone else had got there, Donald Sheavers rang the doorbell.
Pamela was peering out the window. “It’s him!” I heard her squeal, and Elizabeth started laughing.
I looked out. “Who invited
Donald?
” I asked.
“Pamela!”
“He’s cute!” she said.
Donald Sheavers used to be my boyfriend back in fourth and fifth grades when we were renting a house in Takoma Park. He doesn’t even go to our school, and I’d never thought he had much between the ears because he always did whatever I told him. If I’d said,
Donald, jump out the window,
he probably would have jumped. But Pamela met him when we bumped into him at the mall, and then she invited him to the eighth grade semiformal, and he’d seemed a lot smarter then.
I wasn’t exactly wild to have him at the sleepover, though, since he didn’t know most of the other kids. Or maybe I remembered the way he always gave a Tarzan yell when he saw me, just because we used to play Tarzan together. Really dumb. It didn’t matter where we were—at school, the mall, the playground—whenever Donald saw me, he’d beat his chest and give a Tarzan yell, and it embarrassed me to death.
I opened the door. Donald started beating his
chest and opened his mouth, and just as suddenly he closed it again and grinned. “Just kidding,” he said.
I laughed and held the door open for him. He had a sleeping bag under one arm. “So where’s the party? We all going to sleep in the same bed or what?”
“Shhhh,” I said. “Dad’s freaking out as it is.”
“Don-ald!” Pamela cried dramatically, throwing her arms around his neck, and introducing him to the other kids.
There were already three different card games in progress, but the TV was going, too, and there was the smell of popcorn coming from the kitchen. A car with a Domino’s sign on top stopped out front, and a man came to the door carrying five large pizzas.
I guess I’d never seen so many people in our house at one time. Wall-to-wall people. Somebody had a boom box playing softly in one corner, competing with the TV, Karen was snapping Polaroid pictures of everybody, Jill was dancing with Justin Collier and Mark, both at the same time, Penny was strutting around in red flannel pj’s with a drop seat, making us all laugh, and Patrick was imitating David Letterman. It was simply loud and fun and busy, just the way a party should be. Donald seemed to fit right in.
Dad wasn’t used to cooking for more than four or five people at a time. If we had one other person at the table besides our family, we figured we had a full house. Now Dad couldn’t even carry a pizza into the room without stepping over or around bodies—on the floor, in chairs, under chairs, leaning over the back of the sofa.
I guess it was the first time I could remember that I’d had a real party. I mean, more than a few friends in for birthday cake. The first time I’d had music and TV and guys and girls all at the same time. Most definitely the first time I’d ever spent the whole night with guys in the room.
The thing about having a party at your place, though, you feel like you have to be responsible for everybody. You have to keep checking to make sure everyone’s having a good time. I was mostly concerned about Lori and Leslie, because I wasn’t sure how the other kids felt about them. I noticed that while they stuck pretty close to each other, they didn’t hold hands with everyone watching, and certainly didn’t kiss. That’s the one thing I felt sad about, that Lori and Leslie didn’t feel they could be themselves in my home.
The other person I was watching was Elizabeth, mainly to see if she was eating anything. She was doing okay, I guess. I still saw her pause before every bite, as though debating whether she could
afford to let herself eat it. But she ate most of a slice of pizza and some grapes and a couple of chips, which was a lot more than she had allowed herself last summer.
“Penny’s wild,” Pamela said to me as we passed on the stairs. With only one bathroom, and gallons of Coke and Sprite, people were going up and down all evening.
“What do you mean?”
“Just fun and crazy. Mark’s going ape over her.”
“Do you care?” I asked, because Pamela used to go with Mark when she wasn’t going with Brian.
“No way. I’m keeping my options open,” Pamela said.
I went back down to the living room. Penny
was
sort of crazy in a fun way. Still wearing those red flannel pj’s, she was teaching Donald Sheavers a new dance, and Brian kept trying to get in the act and mess it up. Patrick was sitting on the couch doing one of his magic tricks for Lori, using Legs as his assistant, while Sam and Jennifer watched TV—Jennifer on his lap.
I slipped out to the kitchen to see if Dad needed any help. He had the harried look of the Old Woman Who Lived in the Shoe, like seventeen homeless kids had just shown up on his doorstep.
“Need anything, Dad?” I asked.
“About three more hands,” he said. “I made a
big pot of chicken gumbo in case people are still hungry after the pizza, but I thought we had more crackers, and—”
“Oh, Dad, you’re wonderful!” I said, and gave him a hug. His eyes lit up like a flashlight. Every so often it hits me that grown-ups—parents, anyway—need to be told they’re doing okay, that they’re loved and appreciated. You’d think they wouldn’t need that anymore once they’re grown, but they do.
Mark had brought a video of one of those old horror movies,
Invasion of the Body Snatchers,
so about ten-thirty we decided to put that on and we all settled down to watch, backs against backs, heads leaning on shoulders, legs over legs, pillows everywhere, till everyone was comfortable. It would have been terrifying if I was watching alone, but Mark and Justin kept making crazy remarks, so we laughed all the while it was on.
At some point I realized the light had gone off in the kitchen and Dad wasn’t around anymore. Then I noticed Lester sitting at the back of the room, eating a bowl of gumbo and watching the movie with us.
We clapped and brayed and whistled when the movie was over, and then the girls discovered that Lester was there and started cozying up to him. It’s really amazing to watch. Girls’ voices change
when they talk to Lester. Their smiles are different. They laugh differently. I caught Lester’s eye and made a gagging gesture, and he grinned.
“Hey! Anybody want an egg cream, made by the World’s Best Egg Creamer?” Lester said, as much to get Jill and Pamela off the back of his chair as to have something to do, I think.
“What’s an egg cream?” asked Brian.
“Ha! Come out to the kitchen and watch a genius at work,” Lester said, so everyone traipsed out to the kitchen. He dramatically rolled up his sleeves. “Anybody here who doesn’t want one?”
“So what is it?” Pamela asked.
“A drink,” said Les.
The guys looked surprised.
“Count me in,” said Brian, and everyone wanted to try one, eighteen in all, counting Les.
Lester got out our tall iced-tea glasses, then the water glasses, then a couple beer steins, and finally a mason jar. He went over to Dad’s cupboard and took out the chrome seltzer dispenser, then a box of cream chargers. He slipped one of the chargers, which looked like a miniature propane tank, into the top of the dispenser, then filled the bottom with seltzer water. All the guys were fascinated.
