It's All in Your Mind (12 page)

"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 respect. 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 sophist
icated 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 oa
k 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.

We finished the Landers' lawn and moved on to the Parton's yard. There Papa mowed and I trimmed the hedge. It was one of the smaller ones, because Mr. Parton "liked to see what was going on." When we finished, we loaded the equipment into the truck. Papa closed the tailgate, but then, instead of getting in the truck, just stood there. He was sweating heavily and his breath came in short gasps.

"Papa, are you all right?"

"I-I'll be okay. I just feel a little dizzy, and my stomach is upset. I must
have gulped my last cup of lemonade too quickly."

"Maybe we should sit a moment in the shade."

"No, no. I ... I feel fine now." Papa walked to the front of the truck and climbed in.

I got into my side and locked the door, trying to look at Papa without him knowing. He did look a little better, but I was still worried. "Maybe we should go home for a while."

"No, no," Papa said, as he checked the rear-view mirror before he started backing up. "We have only one more yard in this neighborhood, and then we can go home for some lunch, and you can take off for the rest of the day."

"Papa, I can work this afternoon. I don't mind."

"No." Papa waved off my concern. "This afternoon the work is not so hard. And you have to babysit tonight. You'll need your energy for those Kukk boys!"

"I can't argue with that," I said. Even though they had an early bed-time, in that hour before bed they were at their most rambunctious, as if they couldn't bear to give up play time for something as tiresome as sleep.

It was just a short drive to the Pierson's house. It stood on a ribbon of land that jutted out into Long Island Sound, regal and solitary and proud. Here the sun danced across the water and touched rocks that stood guard along the shore. While Papa mowed, I pulled weeds. Before too long we were done and heading back home. Papa seemed to be breathing easier, and I decided he'd just pushed himself a bit too hard for such a hot day.

When we got home from lunch, there was no sign of Karl, or his car, so I would not have any wheels that afternoon.

"Karl and Caprice, they went to the Durham Fair," Mama said. "They'll be gone all day, but they'll be back for supper."

I did not feel as happy as Mama sounded at the idea of Caprice being here for supper, but I tried not to show it.

"Just fruit and cheese and
Salskabmaize
," Mama said. "And this may show up on the supper table too. It's too hot to cook!" If Mama would serve such a simple meal to Caprice, it meant she thought of her as family. Sometimes I thought Mama was much too anxious to see her offspring paired off!

After lunch, Papa asked Mama to rub his neck and shoulders. "They ache so."

Mama stood in back of Papa's chair and massaged him with her small-but-capable hands. "Ah, that's much better," Papa said. He went off to work looking relaxed and refreshed.

I helped Mama with the dishes, and later we hung up some laundry. Mama worked on a tablecloth she was crocheting as a wedding gift for a second cousin who had settled in
Rhode Island. I decided a nice long bubble bath would be a good way to while away the afternoon.

As I waited for the tub to fill, I looked through my assorted bottles of bubble
bath. Rose? Gardenia? Lilac? I chose rose. I put in enough to make mountains of bubbles. Then I stripped down and piled my hair on top of my head, knotting a small scarf around it the way I'd seen an actress doing as she posed in a bubble bath, extra bubbles mounded around her chest so she would look provocative and yet not exposed.

I stepped into the warm water and slid down until I was up to my shoulders in water and bubbles. I gathered bubbles around my breasts and posed with one hand raised and a bubble resting on the tip of my index finger, just as the actress had done in the photo. I imagined Nolan gazing at me, spellbound. I wanted a sexier pose. I pushed the bubbles away and arched my back so that my breasts peeked out of the water, looking smooth as milky quartz. I felt myself glow pink with a mix of excitement and shame.

The phone rang, and I immediately covered myself with bubbles, even though Mama was downstairs and the bathroom door was locked. But Mama did not come upstairs, so the call must not have been for me. I was so embarrassed at even the idea of being caught posing the way I had that I quickly finished my bath, and dressed in tapered pants and a peppermint-striped blouse.

I decided it was cooler outside in the shade than cooped up in the house, so I settled myself in the hammock and thumbed through an old copy of Ingenue magazine. The fashions or the hairstyles didn't interest me as much as the models themselves. It wasn't just that they were beautiful and wore the latest
clothes; it was the looks of confidence on their faces. I worried that I could read "The Thirty-nine Ways to Look Pretty," "The Best Clothes for
Your
Shape," and "The Guide to Perfect Hair" over and over and still not look, feel, or behave as perfectly as those girls in the pages of the magazine.

I closed my eyes, and I must've dropped off into a pretty heavy sleep because the next thing I knew I felt the hammock swaying. I opened my eyes and saw Karl grinning down on me as he pushed the hammock higher. I shrieked and quickly sat up, planting my feet on the ground before he could tip me over.

It was then I noticed Caprice standing nearby in a dress as creamy and yellow as butter. Her smile was demure, like that of a girl meeting her boyfriend's sister for the first time. She looked at me through her thick eyelashes as if she were bursting to tell me something.

"Hi," I said to both of them in general and neither one in particular. "What's up?"

"Well ... now that you ask." Karl reached over, took Caprice's left hand, and held it up for me to see. There, on her third finger, was a slender gold band with a tiny red stone.

While it was not a big, flashy "diamond" like the one Nolan had won for me at the fair, I was sure it was fairly significant. I wasn't sure, however, I wanted know the details. "It's, um, very pretty."

"Thank you." Caprice's cheeks turned a dusky rose. Had this pastel version of her lurked beneath the surface of her always-in-black persona of the past couple of years, I wondered, or was this all for Karl's benefit? She knew the kind of girls he'd always dated, and she now looked just like one of them.

Caprice and Karl lowered their hands to their sides, but their fingers laced together. "It's a promise ring," Karl said.

"A promise ring?" I had a feeling I knew what that was, but I waited for him to tell me.

"A promise that we'll wait for each other."

"Oh. My. This is so sudden." I felt as if I were quoting something out of a Jane Austen novel, or maybe
War and Peace
. I wondered if I should say
congratulations
, and finally I did.

"Thanks!" Karl gave me a big hug, lifted me off the ground, and swirled me around.

When my feet finally felt the earth again, I managed to mumble, "I'm so happy for you," to Caprice. If nothing else, I was polite.

"Oh, thank you." Caprice gave me a big hug too, but fortunately for both of us she didn't try to lift me.

Next thing I knew, Papa was home and Mama was herding us all inside for "a light supper." Karl waited until we were sitting down and eating before he announced his news to Mama and Papa. If I'd been expecting them to react as if Karl and/or Caprice were way too young for her to be wearing a promise ring, I would have been wrong.

Mama clasped her hands to her chest with joy and Papa slapped Karl on the back. "This calls for some birch champagne!" Papa exclaimed. He jumped up and pulled a jug out of the refrigerator.

"Wait!" Mama commanded. She rushed into the dining room and came out with a tray holding five cut-crystal glasses that were part of a set of eight she'd managed to carry safely all the way from Latvia. They had been her mother's and one day they would be mine. Unless, it suddenly occurred to me, they were handed down to Caprice instead.

It was a contrast watching the birch champagne being poured from the big brown jug into the delicate crystal glasses. I wondered how much Papa would pour for me and Caprice. A tiny taste was the most I'd ever had before. But tonight Papa poured a half a glass for me, the same for Caprice. He and Mama and Karl qualified for full glasses.

When he was finished pouring, Papa said, "A toast!"

We all raised our glasses.

"Prieka!" Papa said. "To your health," he explained to Caprice. "And to Karl and Caprice, and a safe journey forth and back for Karl!"

We clinked our glasses. I noticed that Karl and Caprice had eyes only for each other. How long, I wondered, had they been thinking of each other this way? For Caprice, maybe it was ever since she met him. Maybe her interest had never been sisterly. She had always been exceptionally pretty, even at eleven. Maybe Karl took notice of her as more than just his kid sister's friend. For now, no one was saying. Maybe some day they would. If they didn't, I would ask!

After supper, Mama pulled out the family photo album to show to Caprice. I was glad I had a ready-made excuse to leave. I made a point of looking at my watch. "Oh, it's time for me to go over to Mrs. Kukk's house."

Everyone had barely said their goodbyes, when Karl and Caprice nestled close to Mama, and to each other, to look through the photo album.

I stepped out in the sultry air and took my time walking. There was a strange silence. The birds did not chirp. Even the crickets were quiet. Only the occasional swirl of water from a sprinkler hitting a shrub or splatting on the sidewalk broke the stillness.

When I got to the house, Mrs. Kukk seemed exceedingly glad to see me. "Vija, thank you so much for coming!  The boys are out in the back yard! I have to hurry! I should be home no later than ten!" She climbed in the car, then stuck her head out the window. "The phone number of where I'll be is on the kitchen counter."

I went inside just to make sure I would find the number on the counter. It was there, right next to the stove. I went out the back door to the yard, and was greeted by shouts. "Vija, look! We're playing with our hula hoops!"  The boys held them up for me to inspect. Brendan's was red, Daniel's was blue, and Stephan's was white. I remembered when they got them last summer, and played with them every day for months before they lost interest. It was nice to see them playing with them again as if they were new. "See what we can do!"

They tossed the hu
la hoops out in front of them with enough backspin so that they rolled right back.

"Very good!" For the next ten minutes, I applauded every toss and every return.

"Now watch!" All three stepped into their hula hoops and swiveled their hips so that the hula hoops went round and round their waists. Their faces were pink and shiny with sweat and pride.

"Now you do it , Vija
!"  Stephan thrust his white hula hoop at me.

"It's too hot," I said. "And I'm not sure I remember how."

"It's not too hot!" Daniel said.

"You remember," said Brendan. "You can do it."

I could see they were not going to rest until I tried. The first couple of times the hula hoop slipped quickly from my waist down to my ankles. But then I got into the rhythm. Success!

"Yay
!"

"Look at Vija!"

"Wow! Let's count how many times she can make it go around."

I probably could have gone on considerably longer, but by the time they counted to fifty I was roasting. I slowed down my swivel a
nd let the hula hoop gently spin to the ground.

"Aw-w-w-w," Stephan moaned.

"Do it again!" Brendan said.

"Boys, I'm too pooped to pop. Besides, you need to go in and take a bath, and then I'll read to you."

The boys actually liked baths, so they raced inside. Of course, they all used the tub at once, and by the time they splashed each other, raced their little plastic boats, and tried to sink the Ivory Soap, the bathroom was a total mess. I cleaned up while they got into their pajamas and climbed into their beds. They shared one big room. I remembered when it was an unfinished attic that Mr. Kukk, with Papa's help, turned into a bedroom with built-in beds, dressers, and window seats.