Paradise (7 page)

The following week a letter from
Bensonhurst
arrived and Meredith hovered anxiously by her father's chair while he read it. "It says," he finally told her, "they're awarding Miss
Pontini
the school's one scholarship based on her outstanding scholastic achievements and the Bancroft family's recommendation as to her desirability as a student." Meredith let out an unladylike whoop of glee that earned her a chilly look from her father before he continued: "The scholarship will cover her tuition and room and board. She'll have to get herself to
Vermont
and provide her own spending money while she's in school."

Meredith bit her lip; she hadn't considered the cost of a flight to
Vermont
or spending money, but having succeeded this far, she was almost certain she could think of something else. Perhaps she could convince her father that they should drive; then Lisa could ride to
Vermont
with them.

The next day Meredith took all the brochures about
Bensonhurst
, along with the letter about the scholarship, to school. The day seemed to last a week, but finally she was sitting at the
Pontinis
' kitchen table while Lisa's mother bustled about, laying out Italian cookies as light as air, and offering her homemade
cannoli
. "You're getting too skinny, like Lisa," Mrs.
Pontini
said, and Meredith obediently nibbled on a cookie while she opened her schoolbag and laid out the
Bensonhurst
brochures.

A little awkward in her role of philanthropist, she talked excitedly about
Bensonhurst
and
Vermont
and the excitement of traveling, then she announced that Lisa had been granted a scholarship to go there. For a moment there was dead silence while Mrs.
Pontini
and Lisa both seemed unable to absorb the last part of that, then Lisa slowly stood up. "What am I," she burst out furiously, "your newest
charity!
Who the hell do you think you are!"

She stormed out the back door and Meredith followed her. "Lisa, I was only trying to help!"

"Help?" Lisa snapped, rounding on her. "What makes you think I'd want to go to school with a bunch of rich snobs like you who'd look at me like a charity case? I can just see it, a school full of spoiled bitches who complain about having to get by on the thousand dollars a month allowance their daddies send them—"

"No one would know you're there on a scholarship unless you tell them—" Meredith began, then she paled with angry hurt. "I didn't know you think of me as a 'rich snob' or a 'spoiled ... spoiled bitch.'"

"Listen to you—you can't even say the word
bitch
without choking on it. You're so damned prissy and superior!"

"You're the snob, Lisa, not me," Meredith interrupted in a quiet, defeated voice. "You see everything in terms of money. And you didn't need to worry about fitting in at
Bensonhurst
. I'm the one who doesn't seem to fit in anywhere, not you." She said that with a calm dignity that would have pleased her father immensely, then she turned and left.

Fenwick was waiting in front of the
Pontini
house. Meredith slid into the backseat of the car. There was something wrong with her, she realized—something about her that prevented people from feeling comfortable with her, no matter their social class. It did not occur to her that perhaps there was something special—a fineness and sensitivity—about her that made other kids want to put her down or stay away from her. It occurred to Lisa, who was watching the car pull away, hating Meredith Bancroft for being able to play teenage fairy godmother, and despising herself for the ugliness, the unfairness of her feelings.

At lunch the next day Meredith was sitting in her usual place, outside, huddled in her coat, eating an apple and reading a book. From the corner of her eye she saw Lisa walking toward her, and she concentrated harder on her book.

"Meredith," Lisa said, "I'm sorry about yesterday."

"That's okay," Meredith replied without looking up. "Forget it."

"It's pretty hard to forget that I was lousy to the nicest, kindest person I've ever met."

Meredith glanced at her and then back at her book, but her voice was softer, though final. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Sitting down beside her on the stone ledge, Lisa continued doggedly, "I was a witch yesterday for a lot of selfish, stupid reasons. I felt sorry for myself because you were offering me this fantastic chance to go away to a special school, to
feel
like someone special, and I knew I'd never be able to go. I mean, my ma needs help with the kids and the house, and even if she didn't, I'd need money for the trip to
Vermont
and other stuff once I got there."

Meredith had never considered that Lisa's mother couldn't or wouldn't spare her, and she thought it seemed horribly unfair that Mrs.
Pontini's
having had eight children meant Lisa
had to be a part-time mother too. "I didn't think about your mother and father not letting you go," she admitted, looking at Lisa for the first time. "I sort of thought, well, that parents always
wanted
their children to get a good education if they possibly could."

"You were half right," Lisa said, and Meredith noticed for the first time that Lisa looked as if she were bursting with news. "My
ma
does. She had a big fight with Pa over it after you left. He said a girl doesn't need to go to fancy schools, just to get married and have babies. Ma started waving this big spoon at him and yelling that
I
could do better than that, and then everything started happening. Ma called my
gramma
and
she
called my aunts and uncles, and they all came over to the house, and pretty soon everybody was chipping in money for me. It's only a loan. I figure if I work hard at
Bensonhurst
, I ought to be able to get a scholarship to some college after that. Later, I'll get a great job and repay everybody."

Her eyes were shining as she reached out impulsively and squeezed Meredith's hand. "How does it feel," she asked softly, "to know you're responsible for changing someone's entire life? To know that you've made dreams come true for me and Ma and my aunts—"

Unexpectedly, Meredith felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyes. "It feels," she said, "pretty nice."

"Do you think we could be roommates?"

Meredith nodded, her face beginning to shine.

Several yards away, a group of girls who were eating their lunches together looked up and stared: Lisa
Pontini
—the new girl in school—and Meredith Bancroft—the weirdest girl in school—had suddenly stood up, and they were crying and laughing and hugging each other, jumping up and down.

Chapter 6

June 1978

The room Meredith had shared with Lisa at
Bensonhurst
for four years was cluttered with
packing boxes and half-filled suitcases. Hanging on the closet door were the blue caps and gowns they'd worn at the commencement ceremony the previous night along with the gold tassels that indicated they'd both graduated with
highest honors. In the closet, Lisa was putting sweaters into a box; beyond the open door of their room, the hall was filled with the unfamiliar sound of male conversation as fathers, brothers, and boyfriends of departing students carried suitcases and boxes downstairs. Meredith's father had spent the night at a local inn and was due in an hour, but Meredith had lost track of time. Overcome with
nostalgia, she was flipping through a thick stack of photographs she'd taken from her desk, smiling at the memories each one evoked.

The years Lisa and she had spent in
Vermont
had been wonderful ones for both of them. Contrary to Lisa's original fear that she would be an outcast at
Bensonhurst
, she'd soon established herself as a trendsetter among the other girls, who regarded her as daring and unique. In their freshman year, it was Lisa who organized and led a successful raid on the boys at Litchfield Prep in retaliation for their attempted panty raid on
Bensonhurst
. In their sophomore year, Lisa designed a stage setting for
Bensonhurst's
annual school play that was so spectacular, pictures of it made the newspapers in several cities. In their junior year, it was Lisa who Bill Fletcher asked to Litchfield's spring dance. Besides being the captain of Litchfield's soccer team, Bill Fletcher was also fantastically good-looking and very smart. On the day before the dance, he scored twice on the field and once again in a nearby motel, where Lisa gave him her virginity. After that momentous event, Lisa returned to the room she shared with Meredith and cheerfully revealed the news to the four girls who had gathered there. Flopping onto her bed, she had grinned and announced, "I am no longer a virgin. You may feel completely free to ask me for advice and information from now on!"

The other girls obviously regarded that as yet another example of Lisa's intrepid independence and sophistication, because they laughed and cheered, but Meredith had been worried and even a little appalled. That night, when their friends left, Meredith and Lisa had their first real quarrel since coming to
Bensonhurst
. "I can't believe you
did
that!" Meredith had exploded. "What if you got pregnant? What if the other girls spread it around? What if your parents find out?"

Lisa had reacted with matching force. "You're not my keeper and you're not responsible for me, so stop acting like my mother! If you want to wait around for Parker Reynolds or some other mythical white knight to sweep you off your feet and into bed, then do it, but don't expect everyone else to be like you! I didn't buy all that purity crap the nuns fed us at St. Stephen's," Lisa continued, flinging her blazer into the closet. "If you were stupid enough to swallow it, then be the eternal virgin, but don't expect me to be one too! And I'm not careless enough to get pregnant—Bill used a condom. Furthermore, the other girls aren't going to say a word about what I did, because they've
already done it! The only shocked little virgin in our room tonight was you!"

"That's enough," Meredith interrupted stonily, starting over to her desk. Despite the surface calm in her voice, she was squirming with guilt and embarrassment. She did feel responsible for Lisa because she was the one who'd brought her to
Bensonhurst
. Moreover, Meredith already knew she was morally archaic, and that she had no right to inflict restrictions on Lisa simply because they'd somehow been inflicted on herself. "I didn't mean to judge you, Lisa, I was worried about you, that's all."

After a moment of tense silence, Lisa turned to her and said, "
Mer
, I'm sorry."

"Forget it," Meredith replied. "You were right."

"No, I wasn't," she said, looking at Meredith with pleading and desperation. "It's just that I'm not like you, and I can't be. Not that I haven't tried now and then."

That admission wrung a grim laugh from Meredith. "Why would you want to be like me?"

"Because," Lisa said with
a wry smile, then she mimicked Humphrey Bogart and said, "You've got class, baby. Class with
a capital K"

Their first real confrontation ended with a truce that was declared that same night over a milk shake at Paulson's Ice Cream Shoppe.

Meredith thought about that night as she looked through the photographs, but her reminiscences came to an abrupt halt as Lynn McLaughlin poked her head into the room and said, "Nick Tierney called on the pay phone out in the hall early this morning. He said your phone in here is already disconnected, and that he's going to stop by in a little while."

"Which one of us did he call to talk to?" Lisa said.
Lynn replied that he'd called for Meredith, and when she left, Lisa plunked her hands on her hips and turned to Meredith with a mock glower. "I knew it! He couldn't take his eyes off you last night even though I practically stood on my head to make him notice me. I should never have taught you how to wear makeup and pick out your clothes!"

"There you go again," Meredith shot back, grinning, "taking all the credit for my meager popularity with a few boys." Nick Tierney was a junior at Yale who'd dutifully come here to watch his sister graduate yesterday, and had dazzled all the girls with his handsome face and great build. Within minutes of setting eyes on Meredith, he'd become the one who was dazzled, and he made no secret of it.

"Meager
popularity
with a few
boys?" Lisa repeated, looking fantastic even with her red hair pinned into a haphazard knot atop her head. "If you went out with half the guys who've asked you in the last two years, you'd break my own record for dedicated dating!"

She was about to say more, when Nick Tierney's sister tapped on the open door. "Meredith," she said with
a helpless smile, "Nick is downstairs with a couple of his friends who drove up from
New Haven this morning. He says he's determined to help you pack, proposition you, or propose to you—whichever you prefer."

"Send the poor, lovesick man and his friends up here," Lisa said, laughing. When Irish Tierney left, Lisa and Meredith regarded each other in silent amusement, opposites in every way. Completely in accord.

The past four years had wrought many changes in them, but it was in Meredith that those changes had been the most dramatic. Lisa had always been striking; she'd never been hampered with the need for eyeglasses or cursed with baby fat. The contact lenses Meredith bought with her allowance two years before had eliminated her need for glasses and allowed her eyes to come into prominence. Nature and time had taken care of all the rest by giving an emphasis to her delicately carved features, thickening her pale blond hair, and rounding and narrowing her figure in all the right places.