Diva (21 page)

I nod. "I'm glad."

"But it's still… strained. I'm marking time until I can go away to college. I'm already collecting brochures.

I want to go someplace that'll give me a full ride so I don't have to depend on him. I'm thinking maybe the

west coast—Washington State or California."

"Wow. That's so far."

"Yeah, I want far. There's nothing for me here. Besides, it would be cool to go someplace new, try

something new—like you did with that school. It was really brave, you leaving everything and going

there."

I think of the summer program in New York. Someplace new. "You don't think I was just running away?"

"I don't know. Sounds like you were maybe running to something."

"Maybe so." I hadn't thought about it that much, but he's right. I was running—am running—toward opera, toward something that's right for me. We pass under a street lamp, and I see him in the light, the shadows

falling across his sharp cheekbones. He is a man of light and shadow, like he always was. I realize I'm

leaning closer to him, staring at him and remembering what it was like to have someone like him want me,

kiss me. I look away.

"And even if you are running away, hell, what's wrong with that when you've got something to run away

from? I'm running for sure. I know I don't want to live with my dad, and if I stay here, I might end up like

him."

"Like him?" We're on my street. I have two minutes, max, left with him, and the knowledge makes me

brave. When he nods, I say, "I don't think so. That's why you took the class again, isn't it? So you wouldn't end up like him?"

"Right. I graduate next week, you know. Or maybe I never really graduate. Maybe I'll always have to think

about… what happened with you, and spend my whole life making it right. You said you didn't believe me

when I said I loved you, when I said I was sorry. But I did love you, Caitlin. I did. I loved you so much,

and I screwed up so bad. It took me a while to realize… what happened, it was a wake-up call for me.

Mario—that's my counselor—he said it was like God kicking me in the butt so I would know I screwed

up, and he was right. I hate what I did to you."

"God kicking you in the butt, huh?" We're in my driveway now. The lights are still off, but Mom should be home any second. It's way after midnight. I should run for it, thank him for the ride, and go. It's so close. I say, "I know. Believe me, I know all about not wanting to be that person."

He turns to me and smiles. "Do you?"

"Yeah. Thank you… for the ride and for talking to…"

My voice goes choky, and then he's kissing me. Or maybe I'm kissing him. I don't know who starts it, but

I'm not fighting it. We're kissing, and I'm in his arms.

Finally, we separate. He stares at me. I stare at him.

He speaks first.

"Wow. I wasn't expecting that."

"Me either."

My mind is racing. I'm thinking,
What have I done? What have I done? I transferred schools and spent a

whole year trying to stay away from this guy, and I'd just about done it. Just a few days ago, I was

saying I didn't
need
a boyfriend
.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Nick, I don't think…"

"I'm sorry, Caitlin. I think it's a bad idea, you and me. When I offered you a ride, I was just… offering you a ride. You have to believe that. I spent so long trying to get over you. I can't go backward."

I gape at him. "You're saying you think it's a bad idea… this?"

He looks down. "Yeah. I'm sorry. But I can't let this relationship with you define me."

Define me
. I start to laugh. "Oh, thank God. I think so too."

"You do?" He laughs, a nervous laugh.

"Yeah. I don't know. You were there in the moonlight and I guess it's no secret I always thought you were

hot, but… Oh, god, you're so right." I can't stop laughing like a crazy person.

"Yeah. For the longest time, I was telling myself, You have to move on, man. She doesn't want you. But I

never really thought I would. But I can, and I think that's okay, Cat."

"Me either. This is the first time since I broke up with you that I really felt like I
had
broken up with you.

I'll always care about you, but you're right."

We sit there another few seconds, laughing. Then he says, "Guess I should go."

I nod and open the door. "Thanks again… for the ride. And for everything."

I wonder if Mom's going to pull up any second. She'll freak if she sees me with Nick. But probably, she's

too busy being overjoyed about Arnold.

I start toward the door. When I'm almost there, I turn back. "Nick, wait!"

"Yeah?"

I walk back to his car.

"I just want to say…"I have no idea what I want to say. "I won't be afraid of you anymore. I'm not the person I was a year ago. I've changed, and so have you."

"Yeah, you're right," he says. "Sing some opera for me someday, huh?"

I nod. I start away from the car, then turn and give him a wave. It will be all right. Mom forgot to turn on

the porch light, but between the street lights and the stars, I can see clearly. I find the key. It will be all right.

Opera_grrrl's Online Journal

Subject: Nick

Date: December 11

Time: 1:27 a.m.

Listening to: "Ride of the Valkyries" from Wagner's
Die Walkure

Feeling: Satisfied

Weight: 113 lbs.

I'm listening to Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries." The valkyries were these Norse goddesses, who took fallen warriors up to Valhalla (sort of like heaven). They were the women with the horns! They were big

and strong and powerful.

I feel like a valkyrie right now, like I could do anything—even w/out horns.

It's really over w/Nick…he drove me home tonight, and we kissed and…it's over. We *both* realized it's

A squeal of brakes in the driveway. Then I hear voices, angry voices.

"Stay away from me!"

I stop typing and run to the window.

It's my mother. She has on the velvet dress from this afternoon, but her shoes are in her hand, and there's

yelling as she slams the car door. I catch a few words.

"Get away from me. You stay away, or I'll call a cop!"

"Crazy slut!"

I stop typing and run. I open the door just as Mom stumbles in.

"Oh, Caitlin!" Her hair's messy, and she's crying. Her mascara's running down her face. She slams the door behind her and leans on it while I pull the deadbolt. "Oh, Caitlin, you were so right about him!"

"I thought it was going to be the perfect evening."

We're sitting in my mother's room. I sit at Mom's dressing table like I used to when I was a little kid. Mom

paces the floor.

"The opera was at eight. Arnold said he'd pick me up at seven, so we'd have lots of time to walk around.

'See and be seen with my beautiful girl.' That's what he said."

"Mm-hmm." I nod. "That's nice."

"It would have been. Except he didn't show up until twenty to eight. We were late and had to stand outside until the orchestra finished playing its introduction thingy."

"The overture," I say. "Sorry."

"No, that's okay. Anyway, he said he had to work late. Since when do podiatrists work late? And on a

Saturday? Was there some sort of
bunion
emergency?"

That's probably what Mrs. Arnold thought, all those times when Arnold worked late because he was with

Mom. But I control myself.

"At least…" She's still pacing, taking the pins out of her hair. It stays hanging at an odd angle, even after most of the pins are out. "We made it for the first act, and—Oh, Caitlin—it was beautiful. The singing.

The costumes. For the first time, I understood why you like it so much. I really liked it, honey. Arnold

wanted to… snuggle during the show."

Translation: He tried to get in her pants right there at the performing arts center.

"But I didn't mind. I was all wrapped up in the story. It was just like that Nicole Kidman movie, the one

that takes place at the Moulin Rouge. I didn't even mind too much when he said his ankle hurt and he

wanted to stay in our seats during intermission, even though it meant no one would see my dress. I figured

he would see it at dinner. As it turned out, we never ate dinner."

"You didn't? Then where were you all this time?"

"Oh, we went to a restaurant all right, but we didn't eat. But I'm getting ahead of the story. Anyway, the second act started, and it was so beautiful, so… so noble."

"What was?" I've missed something.

"What Violetta did, Caitlin. Don't you think so? When Alfredo's father tells Vi that his daughter may never be able to marry her beloved because Al's dating a… a…"

"A hooker."

"Right. And so Vi breaks up with Al, and tells him she doesn't love him even though she does, so his

family can be happy. It was so noble, so strong. She was right, but it was sad."

She's crying again. I can't believe my mother's crying about
La Traviata. What's up with that
?

"I know." I actually pat her shoulder. I've never done that in my life. "That's what I love about that opera."

"Violetta is such a good person, and Al doesn't realize…" She wipes her eyes with the backs of her

hands. "So that got me thinking about Arnold and his family."

"I'm glad you thought about that," I say.

"Me too. So we went to the restaurant, and Arnold said he had something important to discuss with me.

And I said I wasn't sure if getting married was a good idea."

"What?"

She nods. "But you know what that man said to me?" When I shake my head, she says, "He wanted me to go on a cruise with him.
That's
what he had to discuss at dinner that was so important. When I said I

thought he was going to propose, he actually laughed."

"He laughed?" I'm picturing it, her all dressed up at a fancy restaurant, waiting for him to propose, and I feel
soooo
bad for her, even though I was so mad before.

"Laughed. He said he never planned on marrying me. 'We're just having some fun, Valerie. I'd never leave

my wife for someone like you.' Someone like me! That's what he said. Like I'm some… some…"

I don't finish the sentence for her.

"Some skank! Can you believe that?" she says.

I can believe it because he's scum, but I can't believe he told her. "What did
you
say, Mom?"

"I didn't say a thing." She shakes her hair out. "I threw a lobster at him."

I sit again. It's too much to stand. "A what?"

"A lobster. And two little bowls of drawn butter. I'm positive that's what Violetta would have wanted me

to do—I mean, if she was a real person. And as God is my witness, the only regret I have in the whole

thing is that that poor creature had to die, only to be thrown at Dr. Arnold Mikloshevski."

But I'm barely listening at this point. I'm picturing that lobster, sailing—claws out—across an elegant

table, attaching itself to Arnold's nose. Then I picture drawn butter dripping off the last remaining strands

of Arnold's hair.

For the second time in one night, I start to laugh.

"It's not funny!" Mom yells. "It's not… it's!" She smiles. "Okay, a little."

I finally manage to calm down. "I'm sorry. I know you feel bad, but… butter?"

We both start laughing hard. When one of us is about to stop, the other one yells,

"Butter!" and we both start again.

Finally, I say, "I'm glad, Mom. I'm glad you dumped him. I'm proud of you." I know I should be happy that Mom finally knows what a jerk Arnold is, that her sinister plan was thwarted, and she won't be profiting

from Mrs. Arnold's misery, and better yet, that she figured it out for herself. But somehow, standing there

in her velvet dress with her mascara messed up and hair all over the place, Mom looks less like a villain,

and more like a heroine.

"He insisted on driving me home. I think he was worried that if I got into a cab, I might show up on his

doorstep and talk to his wife." She turns her back to me. "Can you unzip this?"

I lean to undo her zipper, and she says it again, those words I've longed to hear all my life. "You were

right."

I nod and say, "Wonder how he explained the drawn butter to his wife."

"Yeah, I'd like to have been there for that. But I bet he came up with something, and I bet she believed

him. Some women will believe anything." She looks in the mirror and sighs. "Guess that's me, huh?"

"No, of course not."

She shrugs. "It's true. You had to tell me how stupid it was to date that guy. You
and Violetta
." She slips the dress off, and lets it drop to the floor so she's standing there in her strapless bra and underwear. "Time to start over again."

"What?"

"Dating. The hunt." She makes the universal Quotation Mark symbol with her fingers. "
Find a Husband
After 35
. That's what I was trying to say that day when I said it scared me when you talked about moving out."

I wince, thinking about that day. "What did you mean?"

"The idea of being alone, it's scary. I've never been alone. I've always had someone—first my parents,

then your father, then you. I don't know if I can handle being alone with myself once you leave. It's scary

thinking about things changing. I mean, maybe it's not perfect, but it's what I'm used to." She turns away to pick the dress up.

That's just what I did with Rowena and the summer program. I didn't take a chance because I was afraid.

"I understand, Mom. Don't worry."

"We should go to bed." She goes to hang up the dress.

I start for the door. "I wish I'd seen it, with the lobster."

"Yeah, it was great."

"Good night, Mommy."