Patiently Alice (16 page)

After I hung up, I checked my e-mail one more time. There was a message from Gerald:

Hi, Alice. Just want to apologize for what happened at camp. I knew I came on too strong. I tend to do that. Scare girls away, I guess. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I’m taking your advice and going to audition as a reader for Books for the Blind. I’ll see how well I do and if they think I’m any good, maybe I’ll major in broadcast journalism. Thanks for the support. Take care.

G. E.

Dad insists that I get a checkup at the dentist’s and doctor’s every summer. Most of my friends see a doctor only when they’re sick. But Dad says it gives him peace of mind, so I go. This year, to get it over with, I scheduled them both for the same day.

I went to the dentist first.

“You know, Alice,” he said, “last time you were here, I said you have a little bite problem—the way your teeth come together in front. You might want to see an orthodontist about it. I can recommend someone if you like.”

He
had
mentioned it, but in such an offhand
way that I had put it out of my mind. I felt my shoulders sag. “You mean braces, don’t you?”

“Probably, but I don’t think it’s a serious problem. I’ve seen a whole lot worse.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything till after my dad’s wedding,” I said. “I don’t want to be wearing braces then.”

“Fair enough,” the dentist said. “When’s the wedding?”

“This fall sometime,” I told him, and made up my mind I wouldn’t even
think
about braces until the wedding was over.

But I was thinking about them anyway—how much I’d hate them—when I signed in at Dr. Beverly’s later. Once inside the narrow hallway, though, I knew the routine. The nurse weighed me and measured my height, then gave me a paper cup with my last name on it and told me to go in the rest room and leave a urine specimen in the cup.

It’s sort of weird, you know? You’re supposed to urinate a little in the toilet, then hold the cup under you and pee into that till it’s about half full—you don’t want it running over and dripping all over the place—and then pee the rest in the toilet. When you’re all through, you open the tiny cupboard door in the wall and set your cup on a shelf lined with a paper towel. On the other side
of the wall is another tiny door leading to the doctor’s laboratory. A technician on the other side opens the other door every so often, takes out any cups that are there, and does an analysis of the urine—like living in a nunnery or something, where you can communicate with people only through a hole in the wall.

I flushed the toilet. Then, carefully holding my half-filled cup, I leaned over and opened the cupboard door. At that very moment the door on the other side opened, and I found myself looking smack into the face of a fortyish woman with glasses and a mole on her cheek.

Good grief! What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say?

“Hi,” she said.

I was so flustered, I set down my cup and quickly banged the door shut.

Instantly I felt my face flush. Now why had I done
that?
It just seemed so personal somehow, like I wasn’t supposed to be looking at her. But
she
wasn’t the one with her underpants down to her ankles!
Why
couldn’t I have said something funny like,
We’ve got to stop meeting like this!
When would I quit doing such stupid, embarrassing things? But I already knew the answer to that. Never, ever, ever.

“So how are you?” Dad asked at dinner. “Every-thing okay?”

Lester always cringes when Dad asks that, because I used to embarrass him hugely. I’d always have something to tell about what went on at the doctor’s office because… well, who else was there to tell? Family, I mean.

Elizabeth and Pamela are shocked that I can talk to my dad and brother about the things I do, even though Lester says he doesn’t want to hear it, which I don’t believe for one moment. I guess it’s because I don’t have a mother. I started out asking Dad and Lester questions when I was too young to be embarrassed, and once I got started, it just seemed natural to keep on asking.

But by the time I got home, I’d recovered from my embarrassment. Besides, I was getting a stepmom, and I couldn’t wait till Sylvia and I were
having
intimate
conversations. Just the two of us. So when Dad asked how things went with my doctors’ appointments, I replied, “Fine. No problems.” I decided not to even mention braces for now. Dad didn’t need this to deal with too.

“Whew!” said Lester. “That’s good to hear.”

“It certainly is,” said Dad.

“No puddles on the examining table? No gagging when he examined your throat?” Lester asked.

“Nope,” I said. “I’m good for another year.”

“Well,
I’ve
got news, then,” said Lester.

“Oh?” said Dad, suddenly focusing on Lester.

“I got an offer I can’t refuse,” said Lester.

“Not from a woman, I hope,” said Dad.

“No, and I think even you will agree to this, Dad. The last time I talked about finding a place of my own, you said to at least wait for a while after Sylvia moves in so she won’t feel like she’s breaking up the family, remember?”

“Yes…,” Dad said warily.

“Well, I was playing tennis with Paul Sorenson this morning, and he says that a friend of his father’s—an old-timer named Otto Watts—needs someone to live in the second floor of his house. He’s got one of these big Victorian houses in Takoma Park near the D.C. line. They made the upstairs into an apartment for their younger daughter when she was in college, but she’s out
on her own now, and Mrs. Watts is dead. His children think he ought to be in a retirement home, but he won’t hear of it. So here’s the deal: Because he knows Paul’s father, Mr. Watts is offering the apartment to Paul if he’ll get two other guys to share it, with the understanding that one of us will be there evenings all the time in case Mr. Watts needs us. He has an aide come in during the day. We’d have to do all the light maintenance around the place—mow the grass, paint, trim the bushes, that kind of stuff—and pay for our utilities. But other than that, it’s rent-free. George Palamas is going to move in with Paul, and they asked if I wanted to be the third.”

I sat as still as the baked potato on my plate. I was too stunned to even think whether this was good news or bad news. Dad looked surprised too. Lester leaving?

“I know Paul. Do I know George?” Dad asked.

“He’s been here, but you may not remember him. He’s responsible. Works for an insurance company.”

“Well, it certainly does seem like a good deal, Lester. But what about visitors? What about noise? Is he going to complain if you play your CDs or have late parties?”

“He’s deaf,” said Lester. “But he’s sharp as a tack. Funny, too. Paul asked him if we could have
friends in, if the noise would bother him, and he said he’d just remove his hearing aid.”

Dad smiled. “Do you think you can keep the promise that one of you three will be there every evening?” Dad asked.

“That’ll be the hardest part, but for a rent-free place, we’re willing to do it. If it were just two of us and we could never go anywhere together, I don’t think so. Besides, anytime Mr. Watts’s family takes him somewhere—out for the evening or on vacation—we can all be out too. It’s not like we’re prisoners forever.”

Dad toyed with his veal chop. “You’ve talked of moving closer to campus, though.”

“I know, but I’d never get as sweet a deal as this one, Dad. I really want to try it, and now that the wedding’s postponed, I think I ought to move out, give you and Sylvia some privacy.”

I kept looking from Dad to Lester, Lester to Dad. Just because Dad was marrying Sylvia, did
every
-thing have to change? I suddenly wanted to retract everything I’d said about wanting something to happen this summer. Was
I
going to have to move out too to give them privacy? How much privacy did they need? They could always close their door. Then I realized that Lester’s room is right next to theirs. Maybe that
would
be a little awkward.

“Well, it certainly seems like a good opportunity,”
Dad said at last. “Paul is in school too; it’s a lucky break for you both.”

Lester beamed and looked at me. How could I say it was okay with me? Lester had lived with us my entire life. I’d be lost without him! I could see me eating breakfast alone on Saturday mornings. Making dinner by myself when it was our night to cook. Standing at the doorway of Lester’s empty room when everyone else had gone to bed and I had a worry that only Lester could understand. I hated the tremor in my voice when I asked, “Will I be able to visit you?”

“Sure!” Lester said. “It’s only a couple of miles from here. We’ll have you to dinner! You can drop by on weekends.”

My mind suddenly did a turnaround and started racing in the other direction. I could see me eating lunch on Sundays in my brother’s apartment with two other handsome guys. I could see making spaghetti sauce for them when they had a party. I could see me driving over there after I got my license and sitting on the front porch on summer nights and being introduced to Lester’s friends.

“Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea too!” I said. “I think it’s time that Lester had a place of his own.”

Both Dad and Lester looked surprised, like they’d expected a protest.

“Well, then, I’ll tell Paul I’m in,” said Lester.

“When will you be moving out?” asked Dad.

“Mr. Watts is having the place painted, so it won’t be ready till the middle of September, but he says there’s no reason we can’t move some of our stuff in if we keep it in the middle of the floor.”

I imagined Lester and Paul and George inviting Pamela and Elizabeth and me to dinner. I imagined George and Paul and Lester going to the movies and inviting me and Elizabeth and Pamela to come along. I imagined Paul and Lester and George going shopping at Safeway to stock their refrigerator and Elizabeth and me and Pamela going along to help. I imagined…

“So what’s going through
your
mind?” Les said to me. “Planning to take over my room the minute I move out?”

“No,” I said brightly. “Just thinking about the future, that’s all.”

It was the first thing I wanted to talk about when our gang met the next Sunday at Mark Stedmeister’s pool. It was hard to find a time we could all get together at once, because most of us had part-time jobs. I was working days at the Melody Inn; Elizabeth was baby-sitting her little brother; and Pamela was working part-time for a dog-walking service.

The biggest change I’d noticed in our group was that we sat around and talked more. The guys weren’t constantly trying to push each other in the pool, or seeing who could make the biggest cannonball and splash everyone on the deck.

In junior high our conversations were mostly the boys joking about something and the girls laughing. Joke… laugh… joke… laugh. Now we were actually having real conversations. I was impressed at how adult we sounded.

“Big news. Lester’s moving out,” I said as we lounged about on the deck, our bodies covered with sunblock.

Pamela and Elizabeth stared at me. “Oh, Al-ice!” they wailed in unison.

“Aren’t you sad?” asked Elizabeth.

I began to wonder if this really was a tragedy and I just didn’t know it yet.

“Well, he’s only a couple of miles away, and he’s sharing an apartment with two cute guys,” I said, stretching it a bit, since I didn’t know either Paul Sorenson or George Palamas.

I could see the wheels turning in Pamela’s head. “Could we see his apartment?” she asked.

“Oh, sure! Lester said we could visit anytime.” Now I was stretching the truth so far, I could almost hear it snap.

Elizabeth was all enthusiasm. “Oh, Alice, we could help them decorate! We could go over on moving day and cook for them and everything!” she said.

“We could have a housewarming party for them. In their apartment!” said Pamela. “Oh, man, this is
major
!”

“Maybe they’d let us have the apartment some night for our own party,” said Brian. “Now that would be cool.”

“Sweeeeet!” agreed Mark.

I began to feel as though Lester’s apartment was getting a lot more publicity than he would have liked.

“When’s moving day?” Pamela asked.

I knew I had to back off. “I’m not sure,” I said. “I’ll let you know.” And I was relieved when the conversation turned to other things.

“Anyone seen Patrick lately?” Justin asked. “I thought his courses would be over by now.” Justin was sitting by Elizabeth. One minute it looked like they might be getting chummy again, the next minute Jill was in his lap.

“Patrick came by the other night,” I said, waving off a fly.

Everyone looked at me.

“He was doing a psych assignment,” I explained, “and needed to interview someone.”

“Can you imagine Patrick asking anyone for help?” said Karen.

“I can’t,” said Penny. “Patrick Long is the most self-sufficient person I know.”

Somehow I resented her answering, even though Karen had asked a question. I guess I’d wanted her to sound surprised—hurt, even—that he’d come by to see me, now that they’d broken up. I ignored her.

“What’s this I hear about Gwen and Legs splitting up?” Mark asked. “Leo says he drove up to see her at that camp and she was making out with some guy there.”

Pamela and Elizabeth and I broke into laughter, remembering that movie-star kiss. “Yeah, sure. She was making out, all right,” I said. “And Legs couldn’t be happier that he can go out now with the girl he’s been two-timing Gwen with in the first place.”

Mark hadn’t known that we knew about Legs’s new girlfriend. The conversation got general then—who was going with whom, what everybody had been doing over the summer.

Patrick came just as we were taking orders for calzones. Take-out Taxi will deliver.

“My man!” Brian said when he saw Patrick, and they punched each other on the shoulder. Guys have such
stupid
greetings!

“How you doing?” Patrick asked, looking around the whole group. His smile extended to me. I was mainly watching Penny, though. She just turned her head away from him. It was then I noticed that she and Mark were playing footsie. Things sure do change. It hadn’t seemed so long ago that Mark and Pamela were going out, but then Mark dumped potato salad down the back of Pamela’s bikini bottom, and it was good-bye, Mark!