Because We Are (10 page)

Now as she got off the bus to walk the short distance to the office, she was glad Marvin had not answered. Although the ball was that evening, he still had time to let her know he was escorting Melanie. But would he? She remembered his words: “I intend to go, with, or without, you.” Suddenly she had to swallow hard to fight back the tears.

She was just in time. Her father was in the parking lot walking toward his car when she hailed him.

“Well, what a surprise. How'd you get here?”

“On the bus. I'm glad I caught you, Daddy. I need to talk to you.” She was pleased that he was apparently glad to see her. She was a bit self-conscious and doubtful. Her heart began to pound as it did when she confronted her father alone. She was not often alone with him these days.

“What's up?” He looked at her and smiled.

She averted her eyes. “I was wondering, Daddy. I need to get away for the holidays, like … go someplace else.”

“Like where, Emma?”

“Like Hawaii. Mexico.”

“Tijuana?” He laughed.

“Oh, no, Daddy. Mazatlán or Mexico City.”

“Alone?” he asked, surprised.

Emma suddenly realized she had not thought this through. She had been prompted by anxiety. “Mother would probably go,” she said, hoping to retrieve the initiative.

His face tightened. “You've discussed this with your mother?”

Surprised by his displeasure, Emma quickly said, “Oh, no. I thought we could surprise her. It could be a Christmas present from us.” She looked at her father and could not understand what she sensed was anger.

“I'll have to talk to your mother about this. Get in, I'll take you home.”

She settled in the car, now worried. What would her mother say? Would her mother be able to take off from work for such a trip? She looked at her father, whose jaw was still set, his eyes on the road, his fingers tightly clutching the wheel.

“That's a lot of money,” he said, almost as though he were talking to himself.

Emma became angry. Everything she wanted was too much money. “Probably no more than the ball. Maybe not as much,” she said, surprised at the tone of her voice.

“What has that to do with it?”

“You promised to take care of that. Why can't we have
that
money?”

“Because I have other plans for
that
money.”

Her anger increased. She sat looking straight ahead as he maneuvered through the heavy traffic. Finally she glanced at him. She wanted to ask if he loved her. Why didn't he see she needed his help? She wanted to shout at him, You promised, and that money should be there to get me away from all of this.

As though he were reading her thoughts, her father said, “When you weren't accepted, I made other plans. Your mother—”

“But you promised …” she cried and said no more. Suddenly she realized the car had stopped. She was home. Her father followed her up the walk into the house.

“Emma, is that you?” Her mother came into the hallway, and seeing Emma's father, she said, “I didn't know you were with her, Larry. Can I fix you a drink?”

“No. I want to know why you let Emma think she could go away when I told you I had made some plans when she was no longer considered a deb?” her father asked angrily.

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about Emma demanding the money I promised for her debut so that you and she can go away, that's what. I asked you to arrange for us to exchange gifts early because Jody and I are going away. And now Emma gets this idea. I don't like that kind of double-dealing, Janet.”

Emma realized now why her father had become angry. He thought her asking had been prompted by her mother. She was about to speak when her mother spoke up.

“I resent your thinking that I would put Emma up to ask you for anything. I wouldn't expose her to being hurt like that by you.”

“What you mean, hurt by me?” her father demanded.

“You listen.” Her mother was amazingly calm. “I have never criticized you to Emma behind your back. I have always tried to agree with you when I knew Emma was around. You know why? Because Emma
needs
your love. She needs to love you, you're her father. And I wanted her to think she had your love.”

“Are you trying to pretend I don't love Emma?”

“No. These past few days have taught me that Emma has a lot going for her. She has come through this ‘putdown' pretty gracefully. So I'm saying to you, that from now on, you're on your own with Emma. Emma can decide whether or not you love her.”

Emma was surprised. Was her mother suddenly seeing her as a woman, not as a child anymore?

“And I want you to know, there comes a time, Larry, when the parent becomes the child.
You gonna need Emma's love
. And if you haven't cultivated it, it won't be there for you. Now, I've worked hard today. I'm tired. I haven't even had time to tell Emma that because you will be on the high seas by Christmas, we will exchange gifts with you the day after tomorrow. But I'll get around to that. Right now, all I want you to do is leave my house. Leave me and Emma alone.”

Emma saw the look on her father's face and she knew she loved him, wanted to erase the hurt. She started toward him, then looked at her mother. She knew she could not go to him and leave her mother alone, looking devastated, too. She wanted to hold them, bring them together, let them know she needed them both. Her father strode from the room and Emma realized she had forever lost the chance to bring them together again. She rushed to her room and let the tears, pent-up for years, flow. She was crying for her father, her mother, and for Marvin.

Finally, released, she felt relief.

Emma helped her mother prepare for her father's visit, amazed that she had made it through the past two days and nights. The ball was over. Marvin had not called, but she had decorated her tree, wrapped her father's gift, and was now in a good mood, as she anticipated his coming and Cheryl's party later.

Her mother helped arrange the refreshments, then put on her coat. “Emma, wish your father bon voyage and happy holidays. I'll be back in time to take you to Cheryl's party.”

“Mama, where you going?” Emma demanded.

“Out.”

“You can't.
This is family
. We're always together at Christmas.”

“It's not Christmas.”

“But you know he won't be here.” Why was her mother acting this way all of a sudden? “I thought you love Daddy.”

“I do. Because he's your father. Emma, you'll learn there're many kinds of love. You'll also learn that love is an alive thing—like my plants. It needs nurturing, caring for, otherwise it dies. It'll be good for you and your father to be alone and enjoy time together. I hope he brings Jody so that you can get to know her better, too.”

When her mother left, Emma arranged and rearranged gifts under the tree. She moved ornaments and replaced them. She was nervous. What would it be like with her father? What if he did bring Jody? She rushed to the kitchen to make sure everything was still in order: homemade bread warming; wine chilling; cheese in place; the cart with glasses; fruitcake and cookies—all homemade.

She answered the doorbell, her heart racing, her hands trembling. Her father was there, alone with presents.

“Come on in.”

“No, Jody's waiting in the car.”

“Oh, she can come in, too.”

“Maybe, just for a minute.” He went to the car while Emma waited with the door open. She was glad she had asked them in. She wished she wasn't so nervous.

Now Jody was carrying one of the packages. She smiled and handed the gift to Emma and said, “Merry Christmas, happy holidays … whatever.”

“Happy holidays, and welcome.” Emma placed the gifts under the tree. Jody said no when Emma asked her to take off her coat, but she did accept the invitation to have refreshments.

They sampled all the good things, and before long Jody removed her coat. She was wearing a silk shirt with a matching skirt in multicolored stripes. Jody laughed at the jokes that her husband told about Emma.

“When Emma was a little girl, around four,” he said, “she always said she wanted to get married. ‘Who're you gonna marry, Emma?' people always asked, and Emma would say, ‘My daddy.'” Her father laughed.

“You know better now, don't you, Emma,” Jody said.

“Are you suggesting I'm not a good deal for marriage?” her father chuckled good-naturedly.

Emma remembered when she was a little girl and had so much fun with him. She looked at Jody, who was not as tall as she, or her mother, but Jody had long legs, which made her appear taller than she was. Her hair was cut in a shag that, apparently, she did not know how to care for; but she looked happy. She had finally relaxed and was enjoying herself.

When Emma gave them their present, Jody asked if she could open it.

“Feel free. I don't want to open mine though, not yet,” Emma said.

They seemed genuinely pleased with the blue-and-white English wool blanket, monogrammed
Jody's Joy
. As they left, Emma wished them bon voyage as her mother had asked her to do. She waved good-bye, pleased that they had stayed so long—a whole hour and a half. The time had gone quickly and it had been nice. Maybe relating to her father, on her own, just might be interesting. He hadn't come through in her crisis, but she was willing to give him time.

Twelve

When people are happy, they look pretty, Emma said to herself as she put on makeup, getting ready for Cheryl's party. She decided she was
not
happy. She would prefer to be going with Marvin, but she knew that she would have to ignore him if he showed. He would show, all right, she was sure of that. Thank goodness Allan would be there. He had called to ask if he could bring a friend who was home from Stanford for the holidays. Could it be a girl? He had better not bring a girl, with all of her friends waiting to look him over. Suppose he brought a white chick?
He wouldn't dare
. Not Allan.

As her mother drove to Cheryl's, Emma told her about her father's visit.

“Did they like my fruitcake?”

“Oh, Mama, they sure did. But I think they liked your bread better. Daddy asked for some to take home. I gave him some cookies, too.”

“Good thinking. How're you gonna get home?”

“Call you. Or should I take a taxi?”

“Call me. I don't want you coming alone.”

“I'm a big girl, Mama.”

“I'll say!” They both laughed.

Emma thought of the possibility of making up with Marvin. “If I get a ride, I'll let you know, OK?” Then she began to worry. How would her friends react to her? Only Dee had come by during the crisis, and only Cheryl had called, just to verify Allan's coming. Would they be glad to see her? She wished Allan had a car so he could have picked her up.

Her mother waited at the curb until Cheryl let her in. The party was underway with mostly girls. Emma was welcomed with squeals of delight. All of the girls who had been at Dee's slumber party were there; girls from Marlborough she hadn't seen since she'd left were there. She looked around, wondering where the fellows were. She hoped the room would not remain full of girls only.

Already Melanie was a frequent visitor to the punch bowl; and Emma learned that Cheryl's idea of two punch bowls was working in Melanie's favor. Cheryl had convinced her mother that a bowl of grapefruit juice would be great for those on a diet, and a heavy, fruity punch would do for the others. Melanie claimed the grapefruit juice for her flask of vodka and was happy.

The music was going and the girls were dancing en masse with those boys who cared to dance. Every time the doorbell rang, Emma's heartbeat quickened. How would she act if Marvin came in?

“Emma, where's Marvin?” Tanya asked.

Emma controlled the impulse to refer the question to Melanie and said, “I haven't heard from him. Ask Cheryl if she invited him.”

“Ask me if I invited who?”

“Marvin, Cheryl,” Tanya said.

“Yes. But I'm waiting for Emma's Manning friend.”

“That's the guest we're all waiting for,” Dee shouted.

Fellows dribbled in and out, and soon there were enough for couples to dance. Finally the odor of weed crept through the room. Marvin walked in and Emma's heart flip-flopped. Immediately he was surrounded with admirers. Some welcome for one they were all mad at, she thought.

“The Bacardi for the party is here,” Marvin said and produced a bottle of rum for the fruit punch. Everybody cheered and the party took on new life.

Emma waited. She pretended not to notice-his watching her, as if he were waiting for her to make the initial move. Finally she went into an adjoining space where Linda was banging on the piano. They formed a duet and played “Chopsticks” against the sound of the record player. Then Emma felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around. At first she did not recognize the fellow. Suddenly she squealed, “Allan! You're so dressed up.”

He hugged her. “I didn't know you played the piano.”

“You call that playing? We were just clowning.”

“Come, meet my friend and we'll come back to the piano.” He pulled her through the crowd, and even before they reached him, Emma knew he was the one. He was older, and he looked so … how could she put it? Distinguished. Not the way he was dressed, but the way he stood there: in the crowd, but definitely apart.

“You're Emma,” he said. “I would have known you without Allan. He's told me so much about you.” He took both of her hands.

“Hey, Gary, did he tell you she belongs to me?” Marvin had interrupted, putting an arm around Emma's shoulder.

“Aw, come off it, man,” Gary said, grinning at Marvin. “You can't claim all the beautiful women in the world.”

So this was Gary and he knew Marvin. Emma wiggled Marvin's arm off her shoulder. “From Stanford, eh?” She ignored Marvin.