Seems Like Old Times (7 page)

When Bonanza ended, Lee called Bruce and chatted a while.
He had a lot to say about company intrigue.

She then phoned Melanie James, a good friend who was also
the arts director for the station where Evening
Newscene
was broadcast. Melanie worked until nine at night, so Lee knew she’d be wide
awake. She filled Melanie in on life in Miwok and Melanie gave her the latest
gossip from the newsroom.

Forty-year-old Melanie knew how to live the swinging
career-girl dream to the hilt. She was currently living with a man named
Jim--Lee never did find out his last name--and they split everything equally,
even to the point where they divided shelves on the refrigerator between
"his" and "hers." When Melanie cooked dinner, it was a meal
for one. If Jim got hungry, she'd point to the oven.

Lee enjoyed Melanie's biting sense of humor--New York,
arty and streetwise. At the same time, Melanie threw herself into everything
that interested her, men included. There were times Lee wished she were a lot
more like Melanie. But the only thing she ever seemed to have time for was her
work.

The next morning Lee tore through the kitchen and pantry,
ruthlessly sorting dishes, food and appliances that should be given away,
thrown out, or kept.

Last night, she couldn't sleep. Whenever she'd shut her
eyes, strange visions would spring into her head. She didn't know what they
were, nor did she want to know. Monsters--a child's nightmare world of snakes,
dragons and gargoyles. She was too old to be having such dreams. But, too old
or not, they scared her. She'd wake up, turn over to go back to sleep and the
dream would start up again. At six, she gave up on sleep and got out of bed.

Being back in this house had stirred up too many bad
memories of Judith. Between her mother and her old high school, no wonder she
dreamt about monsters and gargoyles.

She needed to finish the job here and go home. If Miriam
wanted to stay on by herself--since
she
, at least, was
enjoying the town--that was fine with Lee. But she'd had enough. She could
hardly wait to see Bruce and her friends in New York. New York was home now,
and she loved it.

Miriam stepped into the kitchen, long-nosed shears in one
hand and gardening gloves in the other. "I'm pruning the rose bushes in
the garden. Why don’t you come outside? Relax a while, enjoy being here,
enjoy
the sunshine."

Lee, dressed in chinos, her hair pulled back in a French
braid, was in the pantry filling Hefty bags with old food. "An uneven tan
might make my skin look blotchy or dirty on TV. I’d better not chance it."

"The world doesn't begin and end with Evening
Newscene
."

"Mine does."

"Life happens, Lisa.
Despite
television."

Lee spun around, a box of stale Wheat Chex in her hand.
"Miriam, my life
is
television."

"Well, I hear the roses calling. I made some sun tea,
so when you want a break,
come
sit in the shade and
have some." Miriam went back to her gardening.

Lee glared after her aunt. She stuffed boxes and sacks of
dry foodstuffs into the black plastic bags. Miriam's constant, obvious
attempts to suck her into this Miwok fantasy was
nothing
short of perverse.

When Miriam had moved away from Miwok years ago, Lee had
always assumed that she’d gone because of sad memories of her dead husband and
older brother. Time, she guessed, had healed those old wounds.

After a while, she heard Miriam's high, thin voice singing
"Dream a Little Dream
Of
Me" while she
worked in the garden. Although Lee shook her head at the corny old tune, she
heard the happiness in her aunt's voice. Once this visit was over, Miriam would
have little reason to return again.

The finality of it struck Lee. Even though she, herself,
didn't like Miwok, and never had, she needed to be respectful of Miriam's
feelings about the town.

"I’ll go find a sun hat then come out to help
you," she called, suddenly wanting to join Miriam and share her happy
mood.

"Find some gardening gloves, too. There are a lot of
weeds out here...in the shade."

"Ah ha!
Now the truth comes
out." Lee smiled as she headed for her old bedroom on the second floor of
the house but stopped as she faced the photographs of her childhood that lined
the wall along the staircase, from her toothless baby smile at the bottom
landing, to her high school graduation smile at the top.

Her stomach clenched, and the ulcer began to burn. How she
hated that wall. Somehow, up to now, she'd avoided a careful look at it. Now,
old, ugly memories rushed back. She averted her eyes and climbed the stairs.

In the photos, her clothes were starched, unwrinkled and
spotless, her light blond hair curled and adorned with ribbons or barrettes,
her big, pale blue eyes clear and sparkling, and her Shirley Temple round
cheeks dimpled in an angelic smile. The pretty little girl in the photos
touched nothing, said nothing and troubled no one. This was the perfect
daughter Judith wanted. Far different was the flesh and blood, fault-filled and
disappointing child she got.

Lee's breath was coming fast as she rushed to her room and
flung open the bedroom door. She stopped, stunned, as her mind again flashed to
the past and all the times she'd run in here after school to change her clothes
before going right back out again.

She pressed her fingertips against her temples. The
effects of too much country fresh air and sunshine after years of exhaust fumes
and soot in Manhattan must have been bothering her.
That,
and seeing old friends...seeing Tony, and his son.

She clasped her hands together, trying to stop the way
they shook from stress and tension. But then, they often shook when she wasn't
on television. Somehow, on TV, her public persona took over. On TV, Lee
Reynolds had poise, sophistication, and nerves of iron. Lee was all the things
little Lisa Marie Reynolds, from
Hicktown
, USA, had
worked long and hard to become. In Miwok, though, it seemed more of Lisa Marie
still existed than she had expected. That was another reason to hurry up and
leave.

The bedroom was still decorated in the feminine style
Judith had chosen for her when she was fourteen. The walls were covered with
pale rose and white floral wallpaper and oval shaped pictures from Godey's
Ladies' Book. A white eyelet comforter on the bed was piled high with pastel
pillows trimmed with lace, ribbons and flounces. Madame Alexander dolls wearing
early American costumes lined a shelf. School souvenirs filled a white wicker
trunk, and on the top of it was her collection of stuffed animals.

How upset she’d been when Judith redecorated without
asking her opinion. She was into Star Wars and heavy metal, not dolls and
frills. Now, with an adult's eye, she could see that the room was pretty. The
sad part was that it represented how completely her mother had misunderstood
her and had tried to make her into Judith's own image.
And
when that failed, had tried to strip her down to nothing.

She failed in that as well. Lee had made sure of it.

The realtor had advised that, although the house was in
great need of fresh paint, wall-to-wall carpets and new drapery, it should be
marketed while still furnished rather than empty, and she had particularly
liked this room. Lee did, however, need to get rid of the clutter.

She decided to leave in the house only those belongings
that would be donated to charity once the house sold. That way, she wouldn’t
have to return here again. Knowing the realtor would handle everything else was
quite a load off her shoulders.

She walked over to the window seat, put her palms on it
and leaned toward the glass pane, looking out at the familiar view. The window
faced a cherry plum tree on the front lawn. She used to spend hour upon hour
sitting here thinking about school, her friends,
her
future.
Particularly about one friend.
She glanced
down at the street, and remembered him standing there, waiting for her.

She spun around. She used to have a couple of straw hats
not that she ever wore them when she was young. But she could use them in the
garden now. Where were they? She opened her closet door and looked on the top
shelf. Not there. Stuffed in the back?
On the floor?

She pushed aside her clothes and peered inside. There was
a box in the way and she grabbed it and pulled it toward the door. Curious
about it, she lifted the flaps and rifled through the contents.

School papers, yearbooks, pictures, an old diary...

Don't look, she warned herself. The diary was dated twenty
years ago. She was fifteen at the time. Flipping through the pages quickly, a
lot were blank.
A most unmemorable year.
She was ready
to toss it back in the box when the pages fell open to a date in late October.
Despite herself, she began to read.

Dear Diary,

I can't believe what happened today! After lunch Cheryl
and Suzanne went to comb their hair and I was alone when that
new
Mexican boy came up to me. The only other time I was
around him was when I saw him on his bike and we just stared at each other.

But he walked up to me as if we were friends or
something. He said, "You're Lisa Reynolds," like he was telling me
something I didn't know.

I said, "Such news."

He said, "I'm Tony Santos."

I said, "I don't talk to strangers." But he
hung around. His clothes are bitchin'. Nobody in Miwok dresses so cool, I
started to walk away, but I went kind of slow. He walked with me, I thought
he'd have an accent, but he doesn't. He said he's from a place in Texas called
Armadillo or something.

His father trains horses out at the Circle Z, which is
better than what some kids were saying. I asked him about his mother. He said
his mother was dead.

It made me think about when Daddy died, and I felt bad
for him.

I asked if she died long ago. He said it was the day he
was born. I can't imagine dying because of having a baby. That's so terrible.

I think I must have looked strange because he tried to
joke about it. He said, "When I was a little kid I never got to sing happy
birthday," and he laughed. But I saw a funny look in his eye when he said
it. He stopped laughing,
then
offered me some
Twizzlers
. I didn't know what to answer, so I took a piece
and gave him back the rest. He has a nice smile. I think I like him.

After school, Cheryl and Suzanne wanted to know every
word we said. They said they were appalled that I'd actually talk to somebody
like him. It made me feel bad for him. I told them what he said and what I
said, but I didn't tell them about his mother. I think he said that just for me
to know. I hope he talks to me again sometime.

Lee shut the diary, and held it in her hand a long moment.
Finally, she dropped it back in the box, and shoved the box to a spot beside
the bedroom door. She'd carry it out to the trash when she went downstairs to
help Miriam.

o0o

That evening, Cheryl got a group of "the girls"
together for dinner with Lee.

At that meal, she discovered just how much Miwok had
changed for her, and vice versa. As much fun as the dinner had been, it brought
home to her how much her life had diverged from that of her friends. At varying
times each of them acted stand offish and shy, at times each seemed to envy her
for her success and independence, and at other times, each acted as if she were
still Lisa Marie Reynolds, high school classmate. But at no time did any of
them, including Cheryl, have any grasp of what it meant to leave Miwok.

The life she lived was a mystery to them, and as a result,
so was she. She tried to explain, but her words did no good, and eventually,
she gave up trying. When they said good bye, they hugged each other and
promised to get together again soon. They all meant it, Lee felt, as did she,
but deep in her heart she suspected that as the euphoria of being with old
friends wore off, they'd probably change their minds. There was too much
distance--culturally, socially, in life experience--between her and these
people from her childhood.

She'd still see Cheryl, but as for the others, they'd
probably run out of things to say far too quickly if they tried to get together
again. After all, how often can one rehash old times?
Once,
usually.
Twice, rarely.

Strangely, throughout the evening, no one mentioned Tony
Santos. Lee wondered if Cheryl had said something to them, because it was so
awkward to
not
mention
him, that
his presence
pervaded the dinner.

Late that evening, at her mother's house, feeling lonely
and forsaken by her old friends, Lee telephoned Bruce. He didn't answer. She
remembered he’d had a dinner engagement planned. It was past midnight in New
York and she’d expected him to be home by this time. She left a message on the
answering machine that she'd called,
then
hung up feeling
out of sorts, hurt and abandoned. "Where are you, Bruce?" she cried.
"For once in my life, I need you!"

Miriam dawdled over breakfast.

"Is anything wrong?" Lee asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking how much I used to enjoy
going to San Francisco with Patrick when he was alive. I guess I’ll never see
it again that way. I don’t suppose you’d like to go?"

Lee nearly laughed aloud. She was glad Miriam never wanted
to be an actress the way her mother did. Miriam couldn’t have made it past
melodrama. "This is my last day here. My plane leaves early tomorrow, and
I’m not finished yet."