A Way to Get By (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

Our Old Familiar Place

BRENDA

Saturday, September 20

1980

I
watched the golfers in their ridiculous plaids mosey across the ninth green, seemingly oblivious to the beautiful, crisp day. I took a deep breath and let the air enter my lungs—the last of the summer air; an ending type of air—mourning more than the loss of my favorite season. Soon, all this green of the surrounding trees would be gone. Summer would be over.

   Amongst other things.

   I turned back toward my best friend Virginia, staring expectantly at me across the table, waiting on an answer. “I guess forever turned out to be too long.”

   It was a hard thing to say out loud, there, on the patio of
The Village Green
. Not only because the news was hard to swallow, but because this was supposed to have been taken care of days ago. When I didn’t hear from Virginia all week, I realized Eddie hadn’t spilled the news to Tony like we’d planned. If he had, my best friend would have gotten in touch with me immediately. Since she hadn’t, I was forced to set up a lunch date to tell her about the separation myself.

   The Green
was a place we’d frequented numerous times in our twenty-eight years. We’d spent quite a bit of time there as teenagers, and more recently, we could usually be found there with our husbands. Virginia and Tony had been together even longer than Eddie and me. The four of us had been best friends since high school.

   “But you and Eddie… Gosh. If you two can’t make it work, what hope do the rest of us have?”

   With everything Eddie and I were going through, somehow I knew this conversation with Virginia was going to be the hardest part. She and Tony had been Our Couple for over ten years. It wasn’t just Eddie and me who were being torn apart; it was our whole, shared, communal
thing
. No more Friday night card games. No more Dance Fever Sundays. No more Monday Dinners.

   No more Fab Foursome, period.

   I felt the bizarre urge to apologize to her. “I’m so sorry, Ginny. It’s not going to be easy for any of us.”

   “Anthony’s not going to know what to do with himself.”

   “I know, I know.”

   Virginia aimed a broken-hearted stare at me, trying to make sense of the news. But then suddenly, her eyes widened as her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, gosh. What am I saying? You and Eddie are separating, and all I can do is worry about how it’s going to affect
us?
” She dropped her focus to the scrivens of paper on the table, the shreds of napkin that she’d been tearing apart as we talked.

   “It’s okay. It’s a natural reaction.”

   “I just can’t believe it. You were our prom king and queen! The most popular couple in school. Heck, in
town.
” She finally looked up to meet my eyes. “How could this happen? How did you two wind up here?”

   Good question.

   The thing was, I loved Eddie more than anyone I’d ever met in my life. And not just because he was gorgeous. My God. When I laid eyes on him that very first day of high school, I was a goner. Sandy brown hair, dangerous blue-green eyes. A wicked smile that gave a girl the impression he was picturing her naked—and knew exactly what to do with her once she was. Complete armageddon wreaked havoc on my nervous system in his presence; my barely-pubescent heart couldn’t take it. I’d always thought Paul McCartney was responsible for my sexual awakening, but I immediately realized that I was wrong. Wilson Edwards put all other guys to shame.

   Fourteen years old, and I knew that he was it for me.

   We didn’t start dating until senior year, though. I was an inhibited virgin who hadn’t yet gotten on board with the whole sexual revolution, and he was happily balling any chick with a pulse. He left a trail of broken hearts almost as plentiful as the number of broken hymens.

   Eddie was always a heartbreaker. And now it was time to add
my
broken heart to that long list of devastated girls he left behind.

   Too bad it was only the women that came easily to him. Eddie had always led a charmed life; opportunity constantly landed in his lap. Problem was, he never learned to take advantage of those opened doors. I tried to nudge him in the right direction, be supportive, be encouraging, be his biggest cheerleader. Believe you me, I tried. But Eddie never wanted to work harder than he had to for anything, which was part of the trouble with our marriage. It was almost as if he swindled me, when you really think about it. He promised me I’d never
need
my job. He promised he’d take care of me. He promised me the world.

   And he didn’t deliver.

   “Lots of things, Gin.” I took a sip of my Riunite-on-ice and tried to explain. “Money has always been tight. Even though we’ve never lived anywhere but that stupid little apartment, there was never any money. I don’t necessarily mind working, but that’s not the deal we arranged. It’s not what I signed up for.”

   I’d had a smattering of jobs over the years, each one worse than the last.
I did some babysitting during high school just for some pocket money—Lord knows my parents never had a spare nickel for me—but once I graduated, I needed something full time. I got a waitressing gig right there at the country club, planning to work my tail off for two years, enough to save up a little nest egg for college. But there I was, ten years later, still slinging the hash. It was a decent job in that it helped to pay the bills, but there was never anything left over. Forget university; I couldn’t even afford tuition at a
community
school, so I simply never enrolled.
I was resentful of that.

   “I guess I just got sick of having to scratch and claw for every penny. That’s not the life I envisioned.”

   Virginia’s jaw dropped. “Money? Are you serious? You’re going to throw your entire marriage away because you’re not as rich as you hoped you’d be?”

   I didn’t know how to make her understand. “It’s not just the money, Gin. It’s the broken promises. It goes way deeper than just our flailing bank account.”

   My friend shook her head. “I thought you were going to tell me something big like he slept with another woman or something.”

   I barked out a laugh. “That would
never
happen.”

   “Yeah, maybe not while you were together…” Virginia trailed off but I knew what she was getting at. Just to drive the point home, though, she finished her thought aloud. “Have you really considered what it will be like if the both of you start dating again?”

   I felt a pang in the pit of my stomach. Truth was, the idea of Eddie being with someone else made me sick. That thought alone was almost enough for me to call off our divorce plans, because I just couldn’t reconcile my husband’s hands all over another woman.
Numerous
women, if his past was any indicator of his future. I wasn’t being delusional when I said that he’d been faithful to me since Day One, even though I knew he’d had plenty of offers over the years. I supposed I couldn’t blame those girls for their eager propositions; Eddie was the type of guy women dreamed about. Gorgeous, charming… a smile that could melt butter.

   I guess those daydreaming women never factored in the reality of an empty wallet in their fantasies, however.

   I know I sure didn’t.

   “I can’t think about that right now, Gin. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

CHAPTER 3

My Sweet Romantic Teenage Nights

BRENDA

Friday, October 3

1969

I
tried not to wince from the taste while sipping from my Pabst and instead attempted to appear sophisticated. I recognized a lot of faces in that room, the same teenaged crowd that frequented this bar almost every weekend.
The Village Green
never checked IDs which was why everyone from school hung out there. But they wouldn’t have been so accommodating toward any rowdy kids that had the nerve to actually make a spectacle of themselves by
acting
like kids. Not that any of that would matter in a few months anyhow; I’d be turning eighteen at the end of February.

   The bar-slash-restaurant was located adjacent to the ninth hole on the opposite side of the course from the Shermer Heights Country Club. Most of the golfers
exploited
their memberships to imbibe at the private clubhouse rather than tipple with the common riff raff at The Green.
In any case, word got out about their lax drinking age enforcement and it soon turned into our favorite watering hole.

   There was an old-timey Wurlitzer in the corner of the large room offering a neon glow to the rustic wood that lined its walls. But aside from the jukebox and a few overheads, the lighting was practically non-existent. Not blindingly dark, but definitely subdued. Ambient. Cozy. Plenty of shadowy corners for people to make out. Too bad I didn’t have anyone to make out
with
.

   I’d just broken up with my current boyfriend, Beau. Needless to say, he didn’t show up at the bar to hang out that night. He didn’t really mingle with this crowd anyway, but I knew he was most likely only staying away in order to save face. No one wanted to deal with the endless interrogation after getting dumped.

   I know I sure didn’t. It had been three years since my first real boyfriend broke up with me, and I
still
didn’t like to discuss it.

  
Terry Wilmington was a senior at the time, which was quite the status symbol for an unknown freshman girl like me. My brother was in his class, and repeatedly tried to warn me off the guy. “He drinks too much,”
Bobby had said. “You’re a good girl and he runs with a dangerous crowd.”

   Bobby wasn’t normally so overprotective—in fact, we didn’t even get along most of the time—and I was touched by his attempt to look after me. But I didn’t heed his advice.

  
Maybe I should have.

   Almost immediately, I found out how hard it was going to be to maintain the right balance. A girl’s reputation was supremely important in those days, and I was fearful of being unfairly labeled. If you went parking, you were a tramp. If you didn’t, you were repressed.

  
Terry and I went out for half the year, until he became so sexually frustrated with me that he broke it off to go out with someone his own age. Terry and Madeline Truesdale got married almost immediately after they graduated… and had a “preemie” baby girl exactly seven months later. Dodged that bullet.

   After the Terry Wilmington debacle, I think all the boys at St. Nicetius wrongfully assumed I was damaged goods, and that was enough of an excuse for them to keep me at arms’ length the rest of the year.

  
But then, the summer of ’67 changed all that. It was The Summer of Love, and suddenly, labels like “prude” and “party girl” didn’t exist anymore. There was no such thing as a bad reputation.

   After months of keeping their distance, I figured the boys would be coming out of the woodwork to seek my attentions. But still, they stayed away, and I was too wounded back then to change that situation. I felt like life was passing me by.

  
Then last spring, Beau Brummel unexpectedly asked me out. We’d been going steady since then, and even though we never went all the way, I managed to gain a little more experience with the opposite sex. Our relationship helped to dispel my pariah status, and for that, I was grateful. The general male population of our school started to take notice. I didn’t give most of them a second thought but at least it was nice to know they were looking again.

   The attention was flattering but it’s not why I broke up with Beau. I’d just finally realized that we weren’t meant for each other. He was cute, and nice, and he really, really liked me. But “nice” couldn’t compare with
“hunky,” and I’d had my eye on hunky for the past three years. It was high time that hunky finally turned his eye on
me
.

   I turned toward Virginia and asked in a low whisper, “Do you think he’ll really come tonight?” There was no need to clarify who “he” was. My best friend knew exactly who I was talking about.

   Virginia sighed dramatically, shaking her head in exasperation. I could tell she was getting pretty sick of hearing me pine over Wilson Edwards. “I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t. Eddie’s here
every
weekend.”

   The guy was so cool that he didn’t even go by his first name.
Eddie
. It suited him.

   “But did Anthony say for sure?”

   “He didn’t say
at all
, Brenda. All I know is that Anthony said he’d meet me here. I can only imagine he’ll bring Mr. Playboy when he does. Okay?”

    I didn’t normally lose my head when it came to boys but recent rumors had it that Eddie had been asking around about me. Virginia’s boyfriend Anthony was Eddie’s best friend, and was the one who dropped the bomb about it. What Virginia didn’t reiterate, however, is what she told me earlier that day: Eddie
specifically asked
her
to bring me to The Green tonight. As soon as I heard the news, I started envisioning an idyllic future where Eddie and I would live right next door to Virginia and Tony and have barbecues and raise our kids together who would grow up as best friends and get married and have kids of their own.

   Perfect.

   My friend’s “Playboy” jab was hardly unwarranted, by the way. Eddie was the dreamiest guy in our school, and every girl knew it. Most had experienced it. Even for those who hadn’t, it was impossible to be unaware of his existence. Everyone knew who Eddie was. How could someone like him stay anonymous?
Gorgeous blue-green eyes, the color of the ocean during a storm. Sandy hair that was always hanging in front of his face, practically begging our female fingers to swipe it off his forehead.

   As much as I enjoyed looking at him, I never allowed myself to believe I could really make him mine. We’d been on each other’s radar for years, but neither one of us ever did anything about it. He was too consumed by his legion of free-loving hippie chicks, and I hadn’t yet gotten over my inhibitions. I always figured he kept his distance because I wasn’t worthy of his attention when there were so many other girls willing to fawn all over him. He must have thought so, too. Until now.

   Finally, finally,
finally
the boys strolled in with their customary rock-star confidence, Eddie looking like a stone-cold hunk in a primo black leather motorcycle jacket and matching boots. Blue jeans so tight, I could see his circumcision scar. My poor teenage heart couldn’t take it.

   Anthony made his way over toward us, but Eddie barely nodded his head in our direction before beelining for the jukebox. He dropped in a bunch of dimes and punched a few buttons, and “Born on the Bayou” came blaring out of the speakers. He leaned against the wall and scoped the room, seemingly absorbed with nothing more than his string of chosen tunes.

   Terrific.

   We spent the next couple of hours exchanging looks but that was nothing new. What
was
new was watching him dismiss any girl that attempted to approach him over the course of the night. Normally, he’d indulge the flirting of anyone that entered his orbit. I’d seen their coy hair-flipping, the batted eyelashes, the inviting looks. I’d seen his easy laugh and the way he’d lean in just so, making any girl on the other end of his attentions swoon from his mere consideration.

  
But never with me.

   I decided that was going to change tonight.

   I turned toward Tony and flicked his arm. “Hey. What’s your friend’s problem?” I asked.

   “His problem?” he asked back, smiling at my snotty tone.

   “Yeah. I thought you said Eddie has been asking about me.”

   “He has.”

   I was feeling a little high from the alcohol, and I guess all those brews had instilled a false sense of confidence. My voice came out sounding uncharacteristically huffy when I stated, “Well, maybe he should ask me himself.”

   Perhaps it was the handful of beers I’d consumed or maybe it was that I’d just completely lost my mind. But whether I was acting rationally or not, I found myself handing my drink to a stunned Virginia as an amused Tony dropped his head and chuckled.

   Before I could talk myself out of it, I walked right over to Eddie and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey,” I said. He turned around, not even surprised to see me standing there. Before I could lose my nerve, I asked him the question that had been bugging me for the better part of three years. “How come you never flirt with me? It’s starting to get insulting.”

   His lips pressed together, fighting the urge to smile. “Oh yeah?”

   “Yeah. You flirt with every other girl in school, but you’ve never done more than talk to me. And you’ve hardly even done that!”

   He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “Maybe that’s because I want more than talking from you.”

  
Gulp.

   I swallowed hard, realizing too late that I’d not only walked right into his trap, but that I was willing prey. When he didn’t elaborate on his answer, I filled in the blank space with nervous babble. “Yeah but tonight… You asked Ginny to make sure I’d be here, yet you haven’t even come over to say hi. Why would you want me to be here if you were just going to ignore me all night?”

   His lips did that pressing-together thing again as a slanted grin cracked through his resolve. He dipped his face close, that beautiful mouth only inches from mine. “I decided it was too dangerous.”

   The look on his face gave me the squirmiest feeling in my stomach, like I’d swallowed an octopus. I was sweating, and flushed, and was pretty sure I was going to puke.

  
It must be love.

   “Dangerous how?”

   He looked right through me with those stormy blue eyes as he said, “Because I’m afraid you’ll ruin me for all other girls.”

   He let just the tip of one finger dance over my shoulder and down my arm. The touch sent a buzz racing across my skin, and I found it nearly impossible to take my next breath. He twirled a lock of my hair around his knuckle and directed his next words to the strand pinched in his grasp. “You’re not a one-night girl. You’re a forever girl.”