Summer Sisters (25 page)

I
F SHE HADN’T HAD
a job lined up she wouldn’t have returned to the Vineyard that summer, and God knows, Maia and Paisley tried their best to get her to change plans.

“Going back is just begging for trouble,” Maia said.

“I make enough in a summer on the Vineyard to get through the school year,” she said, making excuses. “Plus I’m building my nest egg for after graduation.”

Paisley said, “What about Bru?”

“What does Bru have to do with it?”

“Only everything,” Maia said.

“He’s seeing someone else,” she told them for the first time. She could tell they were surprised.

“Then it’s over?” Paisley asked.

“I don’t know … maybe.”

“I’d like to believe you, Victoria,” Maia said, “and I hope you won’t take this wrong but I’ve watched your on-again, off-again thing for three years and I’m, like, beginning to think you get off on it.”

“She’s worried about what’ll happen when you see him again,” Paisley added.

“Don’t forget …” Maia reminded her, as if she needed reminding, “he disappeared when the going got tough. He dumped you when you really needed him.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Vix said. “It was a mutual decision.”

“Don’t tell us,” Maia said, “we were here … remember?”

“How could I forget?” Vix asked. “Without the two of you …”

“Then listen to us now,” Maia said, “and get a job someplace else. There are notices posted everywhere.”

But Vix didn’t listen.

Abby

S
HE’S THRILLED
Vix is returning to the Vineyard. She’d worried at first, after the breakup with Bru, that she’d never come back. She and Lamb know this could be the last summer they’ll have her with them. Next year she’ll graduate and who can say what will happen? She just hopes Vix won’t slip back into her romance with Bru because it’s easy, because he’s there. She knows how hard it is to break away …

33

I
F HER GOAL
was to prove to herself that it was over, that they both wanted to end it, she got her chance two days after she settled in with Lamb and Abby, when Bru came looking for her at the Dynamo office, a cramped space on the second floor of a ratty building on Beach Road. She was alone in the office, taking inventory in the supply closet, when he called, “Hello … anybody home?”

Please, God … help me live through this. Help me to be strong
.

“Hey,” he said, finding her as still and lifeless as one of the vacuum cleaners. He held out a bunch of peonies. She took them, her hands shaking. She was afraid to look at him, afraid if she did she’d lose it. “Hey …” he said again, tilting up her chin.

She tried to focus on the wall clock over his shoulder —4:15 P.M.

He waved his hand in front of her face. “Victoria?” Okay. She could do this. She’d keep it light, as if it meant nothing, as if
he
meant nothing. “What happened to your nose?” she asked. She could see he’d had an accident. A Band-Aid covered the bridge of his nose, but
it only made him more attractive, giving his face a mysterious, slightly dangerous look.

“Hockey,” he said.

She nodded, reached up, touched it. A mistake.

His arms went around her. “Missed you,” he whispered. “Missed you so much.”

She was all over him in the truck, tugging at his shirt, undoing the zipper of his jeans. She’d never felt this kind of lust. He pulled off the road and fell onto her, pushing her panties aside, his jeans around his knees. Her head banged against the door as he pumped her but she barely noticed. The peonies crushing beneath her released their fragrance. She would never smell peonies again without reliving this moment.

She had wished for a return to the feelings of that first summer—the thrill of being with him, the rush—and now her wish had come true.

He said, “Wow … what have you been up to since January?”

Caitlin sent a series of postcards showing stars from old movie musicals. Judy Garland. Cyd Charisse. Jane Powell.
Where are they now?
she wrote on the back.
Are they immortal because they made movies? No answer required. Just think. To be continued
. Vix tucked them away in the bottom dresser drawer, next to the photo of Lamb’s parents. She had other things on her mind.

She and Bru were daring that summer, testing themselves, testing one another. He finally asked her if
there’d been anyone else during their time apart. She told him about Andy. He told her about Star. She cried even though she already knew.

When Abby and Lamb went to a wedding in Vermont she brought him to her room at their house, the first time he’d seen it. He walked around touching the shells and rocks, studying the photos of her and Caitlin. She played the tape of them singing “Dancing Queen,” took off her clothes and lay on the bed beckoning to him, pretending to be a bad girl. For the first time he wasn’t interested. “It’s too weird, being in this room,” he told her. “I feel like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to be doing.”

That was the point, wasn’t it?

She trained the young Dynamo cleaners, wondering if any of them were a team like she and Caitlin once were. She met with clients, organized the office, ordered supplies. She did her job so well Joanne offered to make her a partner after graduation. “Sure you work your butt off through September. But then you get to take it easy. You can marry your guy, have a couple of kids.”

Vix didn’t know what to say without hurting Joanne’s feelings.

“So maybe it doesn’t require a Harvard degree but you could always teach school during the year if that’s what you want.”

The problem was, she didn’t know what she wanted. Except him. She wanted him.

Abby

D
URING HER PARENTS’
annual visit her mother says,
You look happy, Abby darling. You know that’s all we want for you … to be happy
.

Thank you, Mother … I am happy
.

But we don’t understand why that friend of Caitlin’s is still living with you. Do you think that’s wise?

Wise?

Yes. Having a beautiful young girl in the house is tempting fate. You’ve got a good thing going. Why risk it? Remember what happened to Dory Previn when she let Mia Farrow into her life? Goodbye Andre! And don’t forget Cousin Elinor!

Cousin Elinor sponsored an au pair from Norway and two years later watched as her husband and the au pair drove off into the sunset to live happily ever after, leaving Elinor with the children.

She tries to explain how different it is with Vix.
Vix is the daughter I never had, Mother. The daughter I’ve always dreamed of having
. Then, to assuage her mother’s fears, she adds,
Besides, she’s in love
.

It’s serious?
her mother asks and she can hear herself asking Vix the same thing.

Yes … I’m afraid so
.

Her mother breathes a heavy sigh.
Well, I’m certainly relieved. Just make sure it stays that way
.

34

O
N THE DAY
Vix moved back into Leverett House to begin her senior year, Caitlin took off from LAX, on her way to Rio. “Think of it,” she’d said to Vix. “Santiago, Lima, Buenos Aires … doesn’t it sound exotic?”

By then Vix was used to the way Caitlin flitted around the world, like a bumblebee in search of the most exotic blossom. She’d lost interest in trying to dissuade her. Caitlin had her tuition money to blow on travel. She had a trust fund waiting.

“Well …” Abby said, “she’ll always be able to find a job as an interpreter.” Abby never stopped trying to come up with a positive take on the
children
. Vix didn’t tell Abby Caitlin said the best way to learn a foreign language was to fuck interesting people.

She was too busy wondering and worrying about what was to come to devote any time or energy to Caitlin. And she wasn’t alone. They all had
senioritis
. Though the end of their undergraduate days was in sight none of them felt ready for the real world, for life after college. Abby said, “That’s why graduate school was invented.” She urged Vix to take the LSAT or to think about The B-School. Some of Vix’s friends were apply
ing to graduate schools but others, like her, felt they needed to get out there. She couldn’t go on as Abby’s pet, as her personal charity.

She’d changed her concentration from English Literature to Social Anthropology during her junior year and had come up with what she hoped was an innovative idea for her senior thesis.
Five Minutes in Heaven
. Not the kissing game of Paisley’s youth, but a video featuring disabled kids talking about their ideas of heaven. A thesis dedicated to Nathan. She would interview the kids on tape, then capture their ideas with stock footage and composites. If it was difficult to understand what they were saying, the way it would have been with Nathan, she’d use subtitles. To find the right kids she’d have to talk to twenty, maybe thirty. Somehow, she convinced Natalie Ponzo, professor of anthropology, to serve as her mentor. Maia couldn’t believe her chutzpah.

She’d spent time in the editing room in the basement of Boyleston Hall last year, with a friend, Jocelyn, who was working on
her
senior thesis. From the moment she walked in and watched Jocelyn at work, she was hooked. Editing was like putting together jigsaw puzzles. You started off with a million little pieces and, if you did it right, wound up telling a coherent, interesting story.

Jocelyn was Haitian, from Brooklyn, and dreamed of making important documentaries like Fred Wiseman. But her father was pushing for law school. Was she going to waste her Harvard degree on some career that wouldn’t pay chicken feathers or was she going to get out there and make him proud! “I am
not
going to law school,” Jocelyn told Vix. “I’ll get myself a decent day
job, someplace where I have access to editing equipment, and I’ll make him proud
my
way!”

Vix’s parents weren’t pushing for anything. Tawny had dropped out of her life, dropped out of all their lives, and her father’s hopes and dreams for her, if he had any, were never articulated.

Maia thought she was lucky. “You don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations but your own.”

Caitlin called from Buenos Aires. “I’m studying dance.”

“Dance?”

“Yes. Flamenco. I think I’ve found my true calling.”

“Flamenco dancing?”

“Yes. I think it’s important to pursue my talents at this time. I can always take academic classes but the day will come when I won’t be able to dance.”

The only kind of dancing she’d ever seen Caitlin do was disco. “Is this a career move?” Vix asked.

“God, Vix … listen to yourself! Not everything has to lead to a career. I’d rather have talent than a career.”

“You mean a career based on your talent?”

“No … I mean just have the talent.”

“But what would be the point?”

“Not everything has to have a point. Some things just are.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Half of what I say doesn’t make any sense to you.”

“I’m listening. I’m trying to understand.”

“No, you’re not. You’ve already made up your mind.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Maybe it’s not … but that’s what I’m hearing.”

“Tell me about Argentina.”

“I adore it here. I adore Argentine men.”

“Tell me you’re not going to be the next Evita.”

“I’m not going to be the next Evita.”

“Good.”

“I suppose if I ask you to come for the summer you’ll refuse?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Vix … that would be incredible! Is it really a possibility?”

“I don’t know. It all depends on jobs … and things … ”

“Things being Bru?”

“Things being things.”

“You’ll let me know?”

“I’ll let you know.”

The children she interviewed were excited about sharing their ideas of heaven with her. Sometimes, in the middle of taping them, she’d find herself choking up, missing Nathan.

Heaven? I’m gonna get there real soon. I could try to let you know what it’s like, if you tell me where you live. I’ll call
, Hey, Victoria
… and when you look up you’ll see me flying in the sky and I’ll be wearing this beautiful blue dress and my hair will be so long it’ll trail behind me. I might be on a horse, one of those angel horses with wings
.

I think you gotta work up there. You gotta sign up for either angel or messenger or something like that. You got so many people down here to watch out for. They keep you real busy but you don’t get tired. You’re never tired. And no medicine either. Everyone’s healthy. Strong. You know? Once a week you got to meet with God. Either him or St. Peter. You got to report on how things are going. But there’s no wrong answers in heaven. There’s no report cards
.

Me? I’m gonna be a ballet dancer or maybe an ice princess like in the Olympics. Just twirl around all day and eat Fruit Roll-Ups
.

Zillions of puppies … that’s what they got up in heaven. The softest dogs you’ve ever seen. And no poop. I don’t know what happens to the poop but it’s not in heaven. Because heaven’s clean. All those fluffy white clouds. And these zillions of puppies just jumping from cloud to cloud and you get to run and chase them all day
.

Abby called Vix. “What can I do to help? Would you like something delivered to the editing room … something besides pizza?” Abby kept her in touch, kept them all in touch. Daniel was doing well in his second year at Yale Law, but not as well as he’d thought. Gus was finishing his master’s in journalism at Columbia and had been offered a job in Albuquerque, of all places. Sharkey was turning into a brilliant scientist. And Caitlin,
as she already knew, was a latter-day Zelda Fitzgerald with castanets.