Someday You'll Laugh (6 page)

“Brenda, wait!” It was Sharon.

I stopped in the hallway outside the choir room and turned to face her. Her cheeks were flushed and her breath came quick.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“You’re a witch. A two-timing witch.”

The pure venom in her voice hit me square in the face. My mouth dropped open, and I was so shocked no words came.

“No, you’re worse than a witch. You’re slime.”

I took a step back.

“I wrote to Greg and told him all about how cozy you are with Paul. Not that you deserve a warning, but prepare yourself. He’ll be onto you now.”

She was beyond agitated. The red on her cheeks had deepened and her face was damp. Her biting voice echoed down the hall, and I realized the entire choir was listening to her every word.

“Can you hear me?” Her voice came out like a screech. “You’re slime, I tell you. Greg deserves better.”

“Greg can have better.” My mouth decided to work. “Greg and I are over.”

Sharon flinched and every muscle on her face went taut. She stared at me as if she couldn’t understand what I’d just said.

“For weeks now. We’ve been over for weeks.” My voice dropped each word like a dead weight, and I watched her blubber in surprise.

“But, you never said…”

I took two short steps toward her until we were nose to nose. “Why would I? We’re not friends. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“But, you should have told me.”

“Sharon, if you want Greg, you can have him.” I pivoted on my heel and left her open-mouthed behind me. My heart flapped hard against my chest and a strange sense of justice came over me.

I shoved through the glass doors and saw Paul up ahead. I ran to catch up with him.

“Can you believe her?” Paul asked, and the disgust rolled off of him.

“She’s hurt. Plus she thinks I stole you.”

“Like you stole Greg from her too?”

I shrugged. “In her mind, it’s true. It’s sad when you think about it. Thanks for standing up for me, though.”

Paul leaned forward and brushed my lips with his. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

****

Sharon must have given up because as time went along I was hardly aware of her presence. My attention was zeroed in completely on Paul. I spent every free moment with him or trying to figure out when I could be with him again.

We became one of those couples who only had eyes for each other. We had the drawn-out dates, the long probing talks until two in the morning, and the sharing of dreams. I’d never liked winter but that year I hardly realized when it set in. As ridiculous as it sounded, Paul was my perpetual spring.

Until he wasn’t.

Chapter Five

I knew from the beginning that Lower Columbia College was only phase one. Phase two would be transferring to a four-year school to get my teaching degree. For me, there seemed to be only one logical choice: Central Washington State College, a school known for its teacher program.

Whenever Paul brought up the topic of where each of us would go, I’d maneuver the conversation elsewhere. I’m sure he noticed, but he never said anything. When I got my acceptance letter from CWSC one Saturday afternoon during the spring, I knew I couldn’t avoid the subject any longer.

I sat on a bench in our city’s small shopping mall and waited for Paul to get off work. Being an accompanist for Mr. Tack didn’t pay enough to save for a four-year college, so every weekend and most week nights Paul plunged his magic piano-playing hands into the scalding dishwater at Elmo’s Eatery. Sometimes his skin got so dry his hands resembled cracked land in a drought.

As I sat waiting, I watched two mothers walk by pushing strollers. I craned my neck to see their children, but both babies were snuggled so deep in blankets not even their noses poked out.

“Hey, girl.” Paul surprised me from behind. He moved around the bench, plopped down and gave me a kiss. “Thanks for being here. You’re a nice sight after piles of dirty pots.”

He noticed the white envelope I had mashed into a squished accordion on my lap.

“What’s that?”

“A letter.”

He pulled it from my grip and his eyebrows raised when he saw the return address. “Central Washington State College?”

I nodded.

“You got in?”

I nodded again.

“You know I won’t be going there.”

I picked at the corner of my right thumbnail. “I know.”

“I’m going to Western Oregon State.”

“I know.”

He dropped the letter back on my lap and took both of my arms in a firm grip. “We’ll write, Brenda. All the time. And when you come home to visit, I’ll come home too. Western is only a couple hours away. I can be here anytime you are.”

“I wanted us to go to the same school.”

Paul rested his rough dishwasher hand on my cheek. “Neither of us can afford out-of-state tuition.”

“We could get scholarships.”

“We both have scholarships, and you know they aren’t big enough to make much difference.”

He was right, but I didn’t want to hear it. I wiggled away from his grasp and stood. “We could get more scholarships.”

Paul got up too and put his arm around my waist. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see. We’ll both be so busy we won’t notice the other person isn’t there.”

“Long distance relationships don’t work.” I stiffened and moved away.

Paul’s hand dropped to his side. He searched my face and for a long moment he said nothing. The cash register in the store next to us dinged and the drawer popped open with a clatter. A little girl begged her mother for another piece of gum. Two men walked by and their voices were so loud, one or both of them had to be deaf.

Paul stepped closer. “I’m not Greg,” he said, his voice soft. “And I’m not going to California.”

How did he always know what I was thinking? It was infuriating. And comforting. Tears blurred my vision and I shook my head. “The situation is almost the same. Can’t you see that?”

Paul moved closer still. I was going to cry right there in the middle of the mall.

“Brenda,” he whispered, “it’s completely different. We’ve been together for two years. Way more time than you and Greg. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

I touched his lips with my fingers. He kissed them lightly before taking my hand in his. “We’ll be fine,” he repeated. He pressed my palm to his chest and gave me a gentle kiss.

My love for him swelled until the pressure made me dizzy.

Paul raised his brows, his smile tender. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

****

I spent the last half of August packing. As the first of four sisters to go away to college, the whole family pitched in to help. Even Donna, the ten-year-old baby of the family, assisted by plunking her bottom down on each overstuffed suitcase to get them closed. She seemed to enjoy the fun and games until the morning of my move. The whining started as soon as she got up.

“Still don’t see why you have to go away.”

“I want to be a teacher,” I explained for the zillionth time. “And to be one, I have to go away and study.”

Her lower lip protruded in an adorable pout. I tousled her short black hair, making it stand up in stubby spikes. “But I’ll come home and visit. Lots.”

“What about Paul? Is he going away too?”

I paused before putting my notebooks into a box. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

“He going where you’re going?”

“No. I already told you. But we’ll both see him when I come home to visit.” I put on a happy face, but the niggling fear in my stomach persisted.

Donna shrugged, grabbed the notebooks from my hand, and stuffed them into the open box on my bed. She didn’t appear worried.

“Brenda!” Mom called from the bottom of the stairwell. “Finish up. Your father wants to leave before noon.”

“I’m about ready.” And I was. Paul and I had said our good-byes the evening before. I couldn’t bear to see him the morning I left, and he’d promised not to surprise me by showing up in our driveway to wave me off.

“I’m going to college with you,” Donna announced and leapt off my bed. “I get to see your corn room.”

I laughed. “Dorm room.”

She giggled and ran downstairs.

“Brenda, should I come up now? You ready?” Dad asked from below.

“I’m ready. It’s all packed.”

Donna was the only sister coming. My other two sisters were old enough to stay behind, a fact they repeatedly announced to anyone who would listen. They’d gone biking over to Grandma’s that morning, so I was saved those teary good-byes.

I wanted to get it over with fast — travel the four hours to Ellensburg, arrive at the dorm, and wave to my family as they drove off.

And that’s pretty much how it happened, except I didn’t count on four hours of nervous ants crawling around in my stomach. I wasn’t sure which troubled me more — leaving home or leaving Paul.

Once I sat on the hard thin mattress in my dorm room, feeling the impact of my own independence, things became perfectly clear.

Leaving Paul.

Lips pursed with determination, I got off the bed. I hadn’t come four hours to sit and pout. I bustled around my half of the room, sticking animal posters on the wall with blue gunk that’s not supposed to leave marks. I also arranged photos on the two suspended shelves over my desk. The framed picture of Paul and me standing outside the Fine Arts building took center stage. We’d had Mrs. Claybourne take it on the afternoon we graduated from LCC with our AA degrees.

Seemed like a hundred years ago.

I was putting the finishing touches on the bulletin board attached to the side of my closet when the door opened and a short, blonde girl wandered in. Her light gray eyes looked me over.

“I’m Colleen, your roomie.” She tugged her long blouse over pudgy hips and pulled out her desk chair with a screech. “You don’t smoke, do you?”

I laughed. “Never have and don’t plan to start.”

“Good.” She plunked down in the chair. “They moved me to this room because my first roommate smoked. She was nice enough, but I couldn’t take the stink. You like popcorn?”

“Love it.”

“I’ll make some right now.” She hoisted herself up and rummaged a popper out from the drawer beneath her mattress. She opened her closet and grabbed some oil and popcorn. “You have salt?”

“Didn’t think to pack any,” I said.

“No matter. We’ll eat the popcorn naked.”

A girl popped her head through the open door. “You eating naked in here?” Her gaze darted from one of us to the other. Seeing both of us fully clothed, she continued, “Okay, my eavesdropping skills need work.”

She walked in and sat on the edge of Colleen’s bed. “What a complete disappointment by the way. We need some excitement around here. I’m Melinda.”

Colleen dumped a mountain of popcorn kernels into her machine. “Give me a minute and you can eat this naked with us.”

“Without salt. She means the popcorn is naked without salt,” I clarified.

All of us laughed and I felt the intense missing of Paul downgrade from a ten to a five. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

****

The thrill of taking teaching classes far surpassed anything I’d expected. It was like I’d landed in my own personal amusement park. I couldn’t wait to get to class every morning. Couldn’t wait to learn about different teaching techniques. Couldn’t wait to do my homework every afternoon.

I’d always liked school, but this, this was way beyond liking. I’d once joked with Paul that I’d been born with a piece of chalk in my hand. Now I knew it was true. Teaching was my destiny. Paul had laughed and told me he was also studying education, but he had no chalk stories for me.

Every day after eating the notorious pile of carbohydrates for lunch in the cafeteria, I’d rush back to my dorm to check my mailbox. And every day but Sunday, there was a letter from Paul. They weren’t long letters, mostly he’d write little sayings on notecards. Things like:
Look Up, Keep the Faith, I’m smiling at you, We’ll see each other soon
. I taped each card on the wall next to my pillow. It wasn’t long before I’d made a patchwork quilt of sorts. When I’d tape up another card, I’d run my hand over the display, feeling the pointy corners and curled tape and I’d imagine Paul near.

Six weeks into the semester, I sat on my bed and crossed the days off my calendar. I hadn’t gotten a note from Paul that afternoon and it bothered me. Then I scolded myself because the poor guy more than deserved a day or two off from sending me letters.

The empty mailbox must have increased my yearning because I was itching to go home and see Paul. Problem was I had no car and so far I hadn’t found anyone to mooch a ride with.

Colleen studied me from her bed. “Are you crossing days off again? You’re gonna wish your life away, girl.”

“Just want to see Paul is all.”

She gazed at the mass of taped-up cards behind me. “You hear from him every day.”

“Not the same.”

“Yeah, like I’d know,” she said. She scooted back on her bed until she leaned against the wall. “Wouldn’t mind having a boyfriend myself. Hey, did you hear Melinda’s interested in Craig?”

“Craig Wilson? The guy every girl in the dorm drools over?”

“The very one.”

“Well, you gotta admire her courage.”

Colleen grabbed her history book and flopped it open on her lap. “Don’t think he’s interested in her, though. And she’s stopping by in a minute. I think she wants your advice.”

“My advice? Why?”

Colleen nodded toward my wall. “Why do you think?”

There was a knock at the door and Melinda let herself in. “Hey guys.” She waltzed over to my bed — she often waltzed — and sat down beside me. “I need advice. Did Colleen tell you?”

“About Craig? Yeah, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“How’d you snag Paul? What’s your secret?”

I smiled. “I got incredibly lucky.”

“Craig doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Colleen suggested.

“I’m not that liberated.”

I shrugged. “At least he’d know you were alive.”

Melinda drew her knees under her chin and slumped over them. “Come on. Can’t we be a little more creative?”