“It’s beautiful,” I recited. “Thank you very much, Aunt Helene.”
“Beth picked it out,” Aunt Helene said. “She picked the same one out for herself, only in a larger size.”
I hesitated and felt my mother’s expectant look directed at me again. “Thank you, Beth,” I muttered quickly.
“I got a size 12 for her,” Aunt Helene was explaining to my mom. “I think it may be too large.”
“Better that way,” said my mother. “She’ll grow into it. It’s stunning, and I’m sure she’ll love wearing it.”
Right now, in all the heat, I felt sweaty just holding it, so I dropped it back into the box and covered it quickly with tissue paper.
Aunt Helene now held out another box toward me, a small narrow one. “Beth picked this out for you too, Molly.”
“Thank you, Beth,” I recited as I unwrapped it. There was a watch inside. It had a black leather strap, and on its face was a picture of a girl with long hair wearing an old-fashioned dress.
“It’s lovely,” I said. “Thank you very much.”
“Alice in Wonderland
was always one of Beth’s favorite books,” said Aunt Helene.
I smiled politely and wondered who the girl on the watch was.
“Whose picture is that on the watch?” my dad asked, leaning over my shoulder.
“Oh—well—it’s Alice, Alice in Wonderland,” Aunt Helene said quickly. “Of course, it doesn’t really look anything like the Tenniel illustrations.”
“I wouldn’t know if it did.” My father laughed uncomfortably.
“Go ahead and put it on, Molly,” my mother urged.
I put it on, smiled, and said I liked it. But I thought it was dorky. I really preferred my digital watch, even though I usually forgot to wear it.
“And then, one for good measure—just a little something,” Aunt Helene said quickly as my mother began to protest.
This box was in between the big one and the small one in size. I quickly unwrapped it and pulled out a pair of bright blue socks with lots of foreign words in bright colors.
“We bought them in Paris,” said Aunt Helene, “All the words mean
I
love you
in French. See—here it says
Je t’aime,
and here it says
Je t’adore,
and here it says
Mon petit chou
—that means my little cabbage."
“Did Beth pick them out?” I asked. The socks were cute, and I knew I’d wear them.
“Well, she and I did all our shopping together, so
...
”
“No,” Beth said, “I didn’t pick them out. I think they’re stupid.”
“Well, I like them,” I said. “I think they’re real cute.”
“You would.” Beth yawned and walked over to the window. She looked out and said, “That house used to be white. Now it’s tan.”
My dad laughed out loud. “Beth has some memory,” he told Aunt Helene. “She’s been reminding us of all sorts of things we’d forgotten. I think it’s wonderful to have a memory like hers. She must be a great student.”
“Yes, she is,” Aunt Helene said, “Of course, it takes more than memory to be a good student. Beth works hard, and she reads a lot.”
“I wish I could say the same for Molly,” my dad said. “She never sits still for a minute.”
“I do so, Dad,” I protested.
“And I never see her reading.”
“Well, Molly does just fine in school.” Now it was my mom speaking. “And she has lots of friends. Everybody likes Molly.”
“I guess that’s true,” my dad said.
Beth pointed out the window and said, “You know something else? There used to be a tree in that yard. It wasn’t much of a tree, but I remember it had green leaves in the spring.”
I picked up my boxes and muttered something about putting everything away in my room. I carried the gifts back and saw that my mother had straightened out my room. The trundle bed was back under my bed, which was covered again with my pretty pink spread. Everything was turning back to normal. I laid the boxes down on the bed. Tonight I would be sleeping in my own bed, and Beth would be gone. I couldn’t wait.
“Molly!”
She was standing behind me.
“What?”
She came into the room and sat down on the bed. She shoved away the boxes. “I didn’t really pick out that dumb skirt,” she said. “My mom liked it. It was her idea for both of us to have the same one. And I didn’t pick out the watch, even though I do like
Alice in Wonderland.”
“I like the socks,” I told her, “even though you didn’t pick them out either.”
We both smiled, carefully. I watched as she put up her arm to smooth her hair. The little charms in her bracelet tinkled. She tossed her head, and her beautiful hair rippled across her face. I could get my hair cut too, I thought. Maybe it would look like Beth’s.
“I like your haircut,” I said shyly. It was the first nice thing I had said to Beth since she arrived.
“My haircut?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Well, you could get your hair cut the same way.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Sure. You have the same kind of hair I do. It would look just the same.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think your hair is prettier.”
She tossed it again and smiled a big smile this time. She didn’t look scary anymore. She looked just like other people. I sat down next to her. “Beth,” I said.
“What?”
“Beth, how come you came back?”
“Because my shrink thought I should. He and my mother both thought I should.”
“What’s a shrink?”
“A psychiatrist. You know what a psychiatrist is, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. It’s a doctor who takes care of crazy people.”
“You don’t have to be crazy to go to a psychiatrist. You just have to have problems you need help solving.”
“What kind of problems do you have?”
“Lots of them.”
“Like what?”
She hesitated. Then she made a face. “Like you,” she said. “You’re a problem.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I’m trying to work out my feelings about you. That’s why we invited you out to California two years ago, and that’s why I’m here now. Because my shrink feels it would be a good idea if I saw you again.”
“Your shrink told you to see me and be mean to me?”
“I’m not mean to you.”
“Oh, yes, you are—most of the time you are— and you’re always mean to my mother.”
“She’s not your mother. She’s your aunt. Don’t you remember when you used to call her Aunt Karen? Don’t you remember? You couldn’t even say her name right, so you called her Aunt Kaka, and I remember—”
“Stop it!” I put my fingers in my ears but I could still hear her voice.
“Stop what?”
“Stop remembering.”
She moved closer to me. “No, I won’t stop. I’ll keep on. And you know something? I bet you remember lots of things you say you don’t remember, like right after the accident. I remember the two of them sitting there dead. And I remember my head hitting the windshield, and the screaming. I remember the screaming. It was you who was screaming. Nobody else. They were dead, and I was hurt, but you were doing all the screaming, even though you weren’t hurt at all. I remember—"
I grabbed her, and the two of us rolled around and around on top of my bed, on top of the boxes. I got a hand in her hair, and she landed a sharp slap on my cheek. Neither of us yelled or screamed, and through it all we could hear the grown-ups talking and laughing from the living room.
It felt wonderful getting my hands on her. We thumped and slapped and bit each other silently and rolled off the bed onto the floor. She was bigger and heavier than I was, but I could move more easily and quicker. I rolled her over and jumped on her back and
...
And then the bell rang.
Chapter 9
“It’s Jeff,” Beth yelled, wiggling out from underneath me and leaping to her feet. She was panting, her hair was messed, and there was a bite mark on her chin. She went flying out of the room so fast, I didn’t have a chance to point it out to her.
I took my time. It didn’t matter to me which one of my brothers it was. I didn’t care much for Lisa, and if Ginger turned out to be like some of Jeff’s other weirdo friends, I didn’t expect to like her much either.
Finally, I pulled myself up off the floor and looked in the mirror. My hair was all tangled up, and there was a big, red splotch on one of my cheeks. My shoulder ached as I picked up my hairbrush and started brushing my hair. Next week, for sure, I’d get it cut. Short.
I could hear the sounds of voices and laughter, and I stopped to listen. Alex. It was Alex, not Jeff. Aunt Helene was saying something, and Alex was saying something, and my father’s voice wove itself in and out. I brushed my hair and tied it back into a ponytail. Then I smiled at myself in the mirror. It had felt so good knocking Beth around. My fists clenched. Maybe I’d have another chance before she left.
I straightened my clothes and joined my family in the living room. Lisa was holding up some pink towels and smiling politely at Aunt Helene.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lattimore,” she said, and Alex echoed it.
“Oh please—call me Helene,” Aunt Helene said. “And now, here’s a little something for the baby. Of course, we don’t know whether it’s going to be a boy or a girl, so ...”
“It’s going to be a boy,” Lisa said. “I’ve had to have two sonograms because I’m having a terrible pregnancy.”
I turned around and walked out of the room. Lisa just went on and on about all the problems she was having. I’d heard them lots of times, and I didn’t need to hear them again. I moved into the kitchen, cooler now and wonderfully fragrant. The sauce was still cooking, and my mother had all of the other ingredients ready to be assembled.
I sat down at the kitchen table and looked up at the open window. Funny how Beth kept looking at that window. Why? I wondered. It was just an ordinary little window that looked out into somebody else’s kitchen. What was special about that window?
Something tinkled from the living room. Our apartment was so small that you could generally hear most noises from one end to the other. Lisa must have finished talking about her pregnancy. I stood up and returned to the living room.
Lisa had unwrapped the other present—a little music box with a ballet dancer, standing up on one toe, and slowly revolving to a familiar melody.
“I really wanted some kind of lullaby, but this one was the prettiest,” Aunt Helena said.
“Just darling,” my mother said, “and you shouldn’t have
...
”
“It’s cute.” Lisa examined it thoughtfully. “I guess it doesn’t really matter if it’s for a boy.”
“Well, you could exchange it,” Aunt Helene suggested. “I bought it this morning in a little shop near the hotel. There was a cute circus-music box, and I think a little baseball one.”
“Really?” Lisa looked interested, but Alex said, “No. I really like this one. And, hey, I used to go to the ballet. Remember, Mom? I loved the
Nutcracker,
and a couple of times I took Molly.”
Now he was smiling at me. I moved over to him and leaned against him.
“Well, we had a lot of names for a girl,” Lisa said, still holding the music box, “but it’s hard thinking of names for a boy. I like
Stuart.”
“Yuk,” I said, “that’s a sissy name. The kids would call him Stew. Nobody wants to be called Stew.”
“I like it,” Lisa said. “My favorite uncle’s name was Stuart, and everybody called him Spike. Anyway, I like
Stuart,
and Alex likes
Sam.
I hate
Sam.”
I hate
Sam
too,” I said. “I hate
Sam
as much as I hate
Stuart.
”
“How about
Frederick?"
Beth suggested. “That’s a nice name, and he could be
Freddy
for short. That’s cute.”
Lisa began wrapping up the music box, so I guessed she had decided to keep it. “Girls' names are easy,” she said. “Both of us like
Amanda,
and we also like
Samantha.
”
“They’d call her Sam,” I said. “That’s terrible for a girl to be
Sam.
”
“Anyway,” Aunt Helene smiled, “maybe you’ll have a girl next time.”
“I don’t know if there will be a next time.” Lisa leaned forward, eager to tell Aunt Helene all about what the doctor had said, and what she had said, and the nurse
...
“So,” my father said quickly, “what’s new at work, Alex?”
Lisa stopped talking and began to smile. Usually, she doesn’t like being interrupted while she’s describing the symptoms of her pregnancy.
“Oh, everything’s fine,” Alex answered and then turned toward Beth. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Beth,” he said. “You and Molly look so much alike.”
“Alex,” Lisa said, still smiling, “go ahead and tell them.”
“Later,” Alex said.
“Tell us what?” My mother said suspiciously. She generally felt suspicious when Lisa looked happy.
“Go ahead, Alex, or I will.”
“Well, it’s no big deal.”
“Alex!”
“Okay. Okay. They’re making me assistant manager at the store. They want me to handle the retail end of it, and—"
“They’re giving him a big raise,” Lisa burst in.
“Well, it’s going to mean a lot more responsibility,” Alex said. “Of course, the money will be great.”
“And school?” asked my mom.
“Well, I might not go back next semester,” Alex said. “I will need to have a few evenings free, and
...
”
“And we’ll have the baby,” Lisa said. “I don’t want to be home alone all the time with the baby.”
“Maybe I can go back in the spring semester,” Alex said.
“I’m going to go back myself in the spring,” Lisa said. Lisa is a business administration major. "My mom said she’d watch the baby a couple of days a week for me.”
“I’ll watch the baby at night, after work,” my mother said quickly, “so Alex can go back to school too.”
“We’ll have lots of time to talk about it, Mom,” Alex said. “But now I want to hear all about what Beth’s been doing.”
“Lots of things,” Beth said. “Mostly, I’m trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.”
“Wow!” Alex said. “You’re starting pretty early. I still haven’t figured it out, and I’m nearly twenty-two.”
“There’s no hurry,” Aunt Helene said, smiling at Alex. “Sometimes it takes a lifetime, and maybe that’s part of the fun of living.”