Read Dream When You're Feeling Blue Online

Authors: Elizabeth Berg

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Sagas, #Literary, #General

Dream When You're Feeling Blue (8 page)

BOOK: Dream When You're Feeling Blue
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And now here came that baby sister’s voice, thick with sleep. “What are you guys doing? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Kitty said. “Go back to sleep.”

Tish rose up on one elbow, blinked, and then let her head fall heavily back onto her pillow. “Well,
stop
it, then,” she mumbled.

Kitty led Louise to the bathroom, pulled her in, and locked the door behind them. Louise, her eyes squinting in the bright light, said, “What is it? Do you have cramps?”

“There’s something I need to give you,” Kitty said.

Louise sighed.
“Now?”

There was a knock on the door, and here came Tish’s voice. “Hey? What’s going on, you guys? Did something happen?” Her voice rose. “Are we being
attacked
?”

Kitty yanked the door open a crack. “Shhhhhhhhh! No, we’re not being attacked! Go back to bed.”

Tish pushed the door open and looked at Louise. “What’s going on?”

Louise shrugged.
“I
don’t know.”

“Go back to bed!” Kitty said, and Tish crossed her arms. No.

Kitty sighed and grabbed Tish’s arm, pulling her into the bathroom. Might as well let her be here, too. There was no pushing around this baby sister anymore.

Again, Kitty locked the door, then turned to face her sisters. “I have something for Louise from Julian. Well, it’s from Michael, but it’s from Julian.”

“What are you
talking
about?” Louise asked.

Kitty pulled the velvet box out of her pocket, and Louise’s hands flew to her mouth. “No,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Kitty said. “Take it.”

Louise shook her head. “No.”

“For cripes’ sake,
take
it!” Tish said.

Slowly, Louise reached for the box and opened it. Tish rushed to her side and began to squeal. “You got it! You got it!”

Louise stared in happy disbelief. “It’s so
beautiful,”
she said, and Kitty felt ashamed, remembering her own reaction to such a small stone.

“Put it on!” Tish said.

“I…” Louise began to laugh. “Gosh, I’m shaking!”

“I’ll put it on you,” Tish said. “Want me to put it on you? I’ll pretend to be Michael. I’ll even kiss you! Through a towel, though.”

“Tish!” Kitty said. “Will you stop? Let her do it!”

Louise nodded, took in a breath, and pulled the ring from the box. She kissed it, then slid it onto her finger, where it fit perfectly.
Cinderella,
Kitty thought, instinctively clenching her own left hand into a fist. Where did Louise get such small fingers? Why were Kitty’s so large?

Louise turned her hand this way and that, watching the diamond catch the light. Then, holding it out to show her sisters, she burst into tears. And her sisters followed suit. They embraced one another, laughing and crying.

Another knock at door.

The sisters sprang apart, and Kitty opened the door. Tommy looked up at her, his face troubled. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Who’s crying?”

And now here came their parents marching quickly down the hall, Margaret’s face determined and Frank’s full of confusion.

“Who’s hurt?” Margaret demanded. It was her Red Cross training coming through. In times past, Margaret would have been wringing her hands about a possible injury. Now she was ready to take over and manage the crisis. Kitty all but expected her mother to say, “Go and boil water, lots of it!” The knot in Margaret’s hairnet had slid to the middle of her forehead, and her robe hung open; she tightened it now, distractedly but determinedly. As for their father, he’d apparently risen so quickly he’d forgotten both robe and slippers.

Louise pushed her way out of the bathroom and held up her hand, waving it around excitedly. “Look what I just got!”

Margaret grabbed her daughter’s hand and inspected the ring. “Ah, Louise. That’s grand. ’Tis lovely.” She looked up at her daughter. “But what do you mean, you just got it?”

“Kitty just gave it to me.”

“Why did
she
give it to you?”

“Julian gave it to me,” Kitty said.

“What the devil are you
talking
about?” Frank bellowed, and now here came Billy and Binks down the hall, pushing at each other in their haste to get there.

“Let’s go downstairs and celebrate,” Margaret said.

“What are we celebrating?” Billy asked. “Ma? What are we celebrating?
Ma!”

But Margaret was already in the kitchen; they heard the banging of pots and pans.

Louise knelt before Binks and embraced him, then stood to hug the other brothers. “I have just gotten a ring. A diamond engagement ring!”

Billy’s forehead crinkled. “But Kitty said it was from Julian. Are you engaged to Julian now? Boy, Michael’s going to be mad!”

“But I like Michael,” Tommy said, alarmed, and Binks began to cry, saying he liked Michael, too.

“For the love of God, will someone tell me what’s going on here?” Frank said.

Kitty clapped her hands. “Listen to me! Everybody! Julian helped Michael get a ring for Louise. It was a secret; it was left for me to pick up at the jeweler’s so I could give it to her. I just now did.”

“Well, what in the world are you doing giving it to her in the middle of the
night
?” Frank asked.

Kitty sighed loudly. “It was supposed to be
private
!”

“Sure, a family’s no place for privacy!” Frank said, hiking up his pajama bottoms.

From downstairs came their mother’s voice. “Come down for cocoa and toast, everyone! Spread with real butter, by God!”

“Make me a cup of real coffee, Margaret!” Frank bellowed.

“You’ll be up all night!” she answered.

Frank looked at Louise, tears in his eyes. “And wouldn’t I be anyway? With such grand news arriving?” He took her into his arms. “I’ve been living for the moment to say this: ‘May the saddest day of your future together be no worse than the happiest day of your past.’” Over Louise’s head, his eyes met Kitty’s. She looked away, then back at him. She, too, had thought she’d be first. But maybe her mother was right in saying that even as Billy, the oldest boy, was the least mature of the sons, she was the “youngest” of the daughters.

“Louise?” Billy said.

She stepped away from her father. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to say, ‘As you slide down the banister of life, may the splinters never point in the wrong direction.’” He cleared his throat and reached out to shake her hand. Louise shook it solemnly. And then, as their mother yelled up at all of them that this was the last time she was calling or she’d eat every last bite herself, Louise said to Billy, “Race you downstairs?” He grinned.

“Wait, Louise, I have one!” Binks said. “I have one, too!” And he told her, “A turkey never voted for an early Thanksgiving.”

“Ah,” Louise said. “Well, thank you very much, Binks.”

And then she and Billy raced for the kitchen, Binks and Tommy following close behind.

Frank held out his elbows for Kitty and Tish, and they moved slowly downstairs together. These were the steps that Louise would walk down with her father when she married Michael. Apparently Tish was thinking the same thing, for she began humming the Wedding March. Kitty broke loose to chase after her brothers. “I’ll beat you all!” she cried.

         

AT THREE A.M., THE SISTERS WERE STILL AWAKE,
too excited to sleep. They lay whispering to one another, Louise at the foot of the bed, Kitty and Tish at the head. Tish told Louise, “Now you’ll have to do it, and you’ll see what it feels like.”

Louise laughed. “It’s not a question of have to. I want to!”

“You do?” Tish asked. “You want his thing in you?”

“Of course!”

“Ew,” Kitty said, yawning.

“He’ll be my husband. I love him. Sex is part of love.”

Tish sat up. “See? They just say that to make you feel better. But it really hurts. I know that for a fact.”

“How do
you
know?” Kitty asked. She sat up; then Louise did, too.

“Because I heard
all about it,
that’s how.” Tish crossed her legs Indian-style and began picking at a toenail.

“Stop that!” Kitty said. “If I find another one of your toenails in this bed, I’m going to show it to every guy you meet at the next dance. I mean it. I’ll carry it around in a little box like a science exhibit. Your creepy old toenail with a sign pinned next to it saying, ‘This came from Tish Heaney.’”

Tish shrugged. “I don’t care. They’ll think it’s cute. They think everything about me is cute.”

“No they don’t,” Kitty said, disgusted.

Louise said, “Hey? How
do
you know it hurts, Tish?”

“Aw, don’t work yourself into a tizzy, Louise; I’m no chippie. But I know some girls who have done it. Unmarried ones, too.”

“Shame on them,” Louise said, automatically. It was Margaret, speaking out of her mouth. “They’ll live to regret the day.” Margaret again. But it was true! Men didn’t marry girls like that. Why buy the cow when you got the milk free?

Tish shrugged. “It’s different now. A lot of these guys you meet, they might never come home again. You might be the last thing they remember.”

“That’s it,” Louise said. “I’m telling Ma not to let you go to those dances anymore. I saw what goes on! You’re too young to go, anyway; you’re supposed to be eighteen.”

“Oh, those old buffaloes don’t even look at your birth certificate. They don’t care who they let in or keep out; they just want to get their names in the paper for being hostesses.”

“It’s not a good place for you to be, Tish.”

Kitty crossed her arms and set her mouth in agreement.

“I
don’t do anything!” Tish said. “Wise up, guys! Would I tell you all this if I was doing it? I just talk to people, that’s all. All kinds of people! I’m not a snob like you and Kitty.”

“I’m not a snob!” Kitty said, but privately she wondered if she was, just a little.

“I talk to everyone I meet, and I find out a lot of things you guys would never imagine.”

“Such as?” Louise asked.

“Such as…” Tish said. “Just a lot of things you would never, ever believe.
Ever.”

“What
things?” Louise said.

Tish leaned forward and spoke in a whisper they could hardly hear. “One girl told me she kissed it.”

A horrified silence, and then Kitty said, “Kissed what?” just to be sure.

“It!”
Tish said. “It started in France; those French girls, they’ll do anything. They put their mouths right on the wang wang doodle.”

Louise began laughing, but Kitty grew unaccountably angry and whispered to Tish, “You stop your filthy lying! I can’t believe those words came out of you! Wash your mouth out! That’s a mortal sin!” Her fury grew as her sisters put their pillows over their faces, trying to smother their laughter.

Finally, when they had all settled down, Tish asked, “So
…do
you guys want to know about it? Regular sexual intercourse?”

Neither sister answered; the silence spoke for them.

“Okay,” Tish said. “I’ll tell you everything.
If
I get the green pleated skirt to wear to school on Monday. Agreed?”

“Okay,” Louise said, and Kitty agreed glumly. She’d wanted to wear that skirt to work on Monday. Easy for Louise to give away clothing rights; her little first graders didn’t notice what she wore unless it sparkled.

Tish stretched luxuriously, then said, “Well, first you have to get naked all the way—no nightgown, no nothing—and you have to let him lie on you and feel anything he wants. You have to touch him, too, even the testicombs.”

“Testicles,” Louise said.

“Right, that’s what I mean. You have to touch them, too. Now. The boinger feels like a fat rubber stick, it gets real fat around, and the testicles feel like little water balloons. You touch them. And you have to rub the penis before he sticks it in. And when he sticks it in, it’s really tight, and your skin gets all stretched, and it hurts bad.”

“I feel like vomiting,” Kitty said, but now she was laughing. She was excited, too, and she didn’t know what to do about that. Remember the Holy Family, she told herself. The poor souls in purgatory. Remember, man, that thou art dust and unto dust shalt thou return. “All right, Tish,” she said. “That’s enough now.”

“She can talk,” Louise said. “I guess I need to know.”

“You know!” Kitty said.

“Only from books, though,” Louise said. And then, to Tish, “Okay, but so what does it
feel
like?”

“Kind of like if you pull on your earlobe
really
hard,” Tish said. “It hurts bad, and also you bleed when your cherry pops.”

“Hymen,” Louise said.

“Who’s that?” Tish asked.

“H-y-m-e-n,” Louise said. “That’s what the ‘cherry’ is called.”

Tish contemplated this, then said, “That’s disgusting. I like ‘cherry’ better. But anyway, it pops—”

“Breaks,” Kitty said.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m not telling any more if all you guys are going to do is interrupt me. And I’m not telling about childbirth, which I also know how that feels; it feels like an elephant going through the eye of the needle.”

“It does not!” Louise said.

Tish punched her pillow and lay down. “Ha. Ask Ma, if you don’t believe me. Now button it up; I’m going to sleep.”

Louise and Kitty lay down, too, and the air grew dense with quiet. Then, “Hussy,” Kitty whispered.

“Prude!” Tish shot back.

Kitty readjusted herself and closed her eyes. Then she opened them. Was she?

O
N A SATURDAY MORNING IN LATE JUNE,
Kitty was out in the backyard pegging clothes on the line while, in a corner of their victory garden, Frank was explaining to Tommy that he needed to let the green peppers get bigger before he picked them. “Let them get to be as tall as your two fists put together, how’s that?”

“Okay,” Tommy said and put one of his fists on top of the other, then looked up at his father. “Like this?”

“Good lad, you’re a quick learner.”

Margaret leaned out of the back door and shook the crumbs from the breakfast tablecloth. “Frank! Arthur Waterstone’s on the phone, wanting to know can you plane-spot for him tonight!”

BOOK: Dream When You're Feeling Blue
11.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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