BFF* (28 page)

“Can you believe Mrs. Robinson said that to me?” I asked Mom that night. “Can you believe she thinks I'm taking out my anger on Rachel? Have you ever heard such a stupid thing?”

“Maybe she's right,” Mom said. “Maybe that is what's happening.”

“Mom!”

“Hasn't this nonsense with Rachel gone on long enough? Why don't you apologize, Steph?”

“Me, apologize! For what? I wish you'd stop trying to get us back together!” I shouted. “This is
our
problem, not yours!” I ran upstairs and slammed my bedroom door. My perfect afternoon had been ruined!

Dad called a few days later. “I thought you'd want to know,” he said, “as of May first I'm coming back to the New York office.”

“What?” I asked, switching the phone from one ear to the other. “What did you say?”

“I'll be working out of the New York office beginning the first of May,” Dad said, slowly, as if we didn't speak the same language.

“Is Iris coming with you?”

“Iris and I aren't seeing each other anymore.”

This was news to me! “Since before or after my birthday?”

“Before,” Dad said. “But look, Steph … I don't want you to blame yourself.”

Blame myself? I thought.

“I know that kids always blame themselves for these things,” Dad said.

They do?

“It wasn't your fault,” Dad continued. “Iris
and I finally sat down and talked it over and we realized we have different priorities.”

“So you broke up?”

“Please try not to feel guilty.”

Feel guilty?

“There was a lot more to our decision than what happened at Christmas.”

Oh … Christmas. So that's why he thought I'd feel guilty. My head was filled with questions. “Where will you live?” I asked. What I really meant was,
Will you and Mom get back together? Will you come home?
But it was too hard to come right out and say what was on my mind.

“I'll probably take an apartment in the city,” Dad said, “at least in the beginning.”

What did that mean? “So you'll be living in New York starting May first?”

“Yes,” he said. “Life out here isn't what I expected. And I miss you and Bruce very much. Once I'm in New York we'll be able to see each other every week.”

Every week? Did that mean he would come up here or Bruce and I would go to the city? My stomach started growling but I didn't feel hungry.

When I hung up I went to see Mom. “Did you know Dad's coming back to the New York office?”

Mom was at her computer. “Yes,” she said, quietly.

“And his fling with Iris is over, too.”

“Yes,” she said again.

“So what does it mean?” I asked.

“We don't know yet, Steph. We've still got a lot of thinking to do.”

“But you might get back together … right?”

“Don't get your hopes up.”

“But it's a possibility, isn't it?”

“I suppose it's a possibility … but it's not likely.”

“I hate not knowing what's going to happen!” I shouted. “I'd almost rather know you're getting a divorce. I want it to be settled one way or the other so I can get used to the idea, so I can stop thinking about it.”

“I'm not going to lie to you, Steph,” Mom said. “We just don't know …”

“You're supposed to be grown-ups,” I shouted at her, “so why can't you make up your minds?” I ran to my room and slammed the door.

This time Mom followed me. “I'm getting tired of your moody outbursts!” she shouted. “Other people live here too, you know. And it's time you showed some concern for their feelings.”

“I show a lot of concern for Bruce's feelings!” I shouted back at her.

Killer Flu

In March everyone got the flu. Everyone but Alison and me. Rachel had it. Dana had it. Miri Levine and Peter Klaff have it and I think Eric Macaulay is coming down with it because he coughed all day today and fell asleep in homeroom, with his head on his desk. Mrs. Remo says if we develop symptoms we should definitely not come to school. I heard her tell Mr. Diamond, “They're dropping like flies in my homeroom.”

I called Peter to see how he was feeling.

“This flu is a killer,” he said. “I cough half the night.”

“Can't your mother give you something?”

“She's working on it.”

“When are you coming back to school?”

“Not until I'm better, which at this rate means next fall.”

“Well, cheer up,” I told him. “You're not missing that much. Half the class is absent.”

“Yeah … Mom says it's an epidemic.”

“Probably I'll be next,” I said.

“Then I'll call you.”

“Deal,” I said. The thing I like best about Peter is he's not just a boy, he's a friend.

When Alison called a few nights later, in tears, I figured it was to tell me that she had the flu, too. But instead she said, “This is an emergency.” Her voice quivered. “I've got to see you right away.”

“You want me to come over?” I asked. Never mind that it was close to nine on a school night and outside it was windy and raining. If Alison needed me I would go. That's what friends are for.

“I'll come to your house,” Alison said.

“Did somebody die?” I asked, thinking of Sadie Wishnik.

“No …” Alison said, “nobody died.”

“That's a relief.”

Alison came to the kitchen door carrying her overnight bag in one hand and Maizie tucked under her other arm. This was the first time Alison had brought Maizie to our house. I wondered
why she'd picked a rainy night for Maizie's first visit. And how come she was carrying an overnight bag.

Maizie shook herself off, then sniffed around the kitchen.

Alison took off her wet slicker and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair. Her eyes were red and puffy.

“What's wrong?” I said.

“Where's your mother?”

“In her room. Why?”

“Where's Bruce?”

“He's upstairs too. What's going on?”

“What I have to say I have to say in private.”

“Okay … fine.”

“Can we get to your room without anyone seeing us?”

“We can try,” I said.

Alison grabbed Maizie and held her jaws together so she couldn't bark. We crept up the stairs slowly and ducked into my room. Then Maizie leaped out of Alison's arms and hid under the dresser. Alison sat on the edge of my bed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “My mother is pregnant,” she announced.

“No!”

“And they don't know how it happened.”

“You mean it didn't happen in the usual way?”

“I mean, she's forty years old and she's never been able to get pregnant and now, all of a sudden, she is.”

“That's amazing!” I said.

“It's more than amazing.”

“What's she going to do?”

“She's going to have it. She and Leon think it's the greatest news they've ever heard. It doesn't bother them that when the kid is my age Mom will be fifty-three and Leon will be sixty-five.”

I tried to picture Gena Farrell pregnant, but I couldn't. I couldn't picture her old either.

“What about the series?” I asked.

“How can you think of a TV series at a time like this?”

“I don't know. It just popped into my head.” I like Gena's new TV series. It's funny but not silly. I watch it every Tuesday night. Maybe Leon could give Franny—that's the name of the character Gena plays—a baby on the show. That would be very interesting.

Alison was crying again. “Mom says she didn't tell me until tonight because they just got the results of the amniocentesis …”

“What's amniocentesis?” I asked.

“Some test they do on older women to make sure the baby is okay. They even know what sex it is.”

“What?”

“It's a …” She shook her head. I sat beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. “It's a boy,” she finally managed to say.

“So you'll have a younger brother, same as me.”

“You don't get it, do you?” she cried. “This isn't anything like you and Bruce.”

“Because you'll be thirteen years older?”

“No … because it will be
their
baby. Their
own
baby. Not some baby Gena adopted because she couldn't get pregnant. This baby will look like them.”

“I hope it looks like Gena,” I said. “Not that there's anything wrong with the way Leon looks … but Gena's a lot …” I stopped when I realized that wasn't what Alison meant. She meant this baby won't be Vietnamese.

“They won't need me anymore.”

“Come on, Alison! I never saw a kid as loved as you.”

“Until now! But who knows what's going to happen in July?”

I wanted to tell her about Dad and how he was coming back to the New York office on May first. I wanted to tell her that I don't know what's going to happen either. But it didn't feel like the right time to bring up my family problems.

“I'm going to France tomorrow,” Alison said. “I'm going to find my biological mother.”

“How?”

“There are ways.”

“I think you're making a big mistake,” I said.

We both heard the doorbell ring. Alison rushed to the window and looked out. “It's them,” she whispered. “I'll hide in the closet.”

“Alison, I wish you'd …”

“Shush …”

She was in the closet, with Maizie, when Mom opened my door. “Is Alison here?”

You could tell Alison was trying to keep Maizie from barking by the muffled sounds coming from the closet.

“Your parents are downstairs waiting, Alison,” Mom said, as if nothing unusual was going on.

As soon as Mom was gone Alison opened the closet door and came out with Maizie in her arms. “I guess I'll go home now,” she said. Her voice sounded hoarse. “I guess I'll wait until tomorrow to decide what to do.”

“You look kind of funny,” I told her.

“I feel kind of funny,” she said. And then she just keeled over.

“Mom!” I called, “Come quick …”

Mom, Gena and Leon raced up the stairs. “Pumpkin!” Leon said. He lifted Alison onto my bed.

Gena felt her forehead. “She's burning up!”

“It's probably the flu,” I told them. “The kids at school are dropping like flies.”

“What's going on?” Bruce asked, standing in my doorway.

Alison opened her eyes. “My dog can talk,” she said.