Gingerbread (16 page)

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Authors: Rachel Cohn

Tags: #Social Issues, #Stepfamilies, #Family, #Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), #Juvenile Fiction, #Mothers and daughters, #Social Situations - Adolescence, #Fiction, #Family - Stepfamilies, #Interpersonal Relations, #General, #Social Issues - Adolescence, #Family - General, #Children: Young Adult (Gr. 10-12), #Children's 12-Up - Fiction - General, #Adolescence

BOOK: Gingerbread
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That was the only time I cried, in the back of this stranger's cab, when I realized that the cabdriver was more concerned about me than Justin was.

It's funny to think that Nancy sent me to boarding school thinking that would straighten me out, that I would meet the right people and start to appreciate everything I had been given. And in the end, what had straightened me out and given me hope and life again was going home.

161

Thirty-six

I think I lay
in bed, comatose, for hours. I lost track of time trying to squash down the pain of memories, trying to think about nothing. I finally fell asleep around eight in the evening, and when I awoke at eight the next morning, for all of my twelve hours of sleep, I felt not at all rested. I had tossed and turned the whole night.

Frank came into my room and said, "You doing all right, kiddo?" He held out the telephone to me with his hand over the speaker part. He mouthed the words, "Your mother." I think he was trying to be Mister Cool, giving me the option of shaking my head in case I wanted him to tell her I was still asleep. Somehow, though, the thought of talking to Nancy was not annoying; it was almost comforting.

I took the phone and drowsily said "hi" into it.

I would have thought Nancy would be the drowsy one--it was five in the morning her time. But no, she was all perky morning sunshine. "Guess what!"

I did not say, "That's what!" I said, "Hmm?" So much for our "space."

She said, "I'm here in New York! We flew in last night. We're staying at the Plaza Hotel. Daddy had to come on business for a couple days and I figured I would come too and we could maybe do some shopping together for school clothes for the new school year!"

I think we both knew the shopping for school clothes excuse was a flimsy one to cover up the fact that she simply

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was incapable of giving me three whole weeks on my own, but I found it curious that, after the previous day's events, I was a little happy to hear Nancy's excited voice. The funny thing was, after dealing with the Justin stuff in the company of people who were my blood but actually felt more like strangers, I kinda missed her.

She said she could have a car waiting downstairs for me in an hour if I could be ready. I said I'd take the subway and meet her in two.

When I got there, she answered the door and threw a giant bear hug around my stiff body. "Hi, sweetie!" she squealed. I don't know how she manages to turn on and turn off like she does. She has the amazing capability to forget all about fights at the drop of a hat, as if Alcatraz and her forbidding me to see Shrimp could be undone just like that, as if, after two and a half weeks in New York and one giant hug, we were at a zero balance, with everything swell and nothing having ever gone wrong to lead us to this point.

Still, I admit, I was glad to see her. And was she ever dressed the part. She was wearing sleek, narrow, white three-quarters pants with a silk navy sleeveless top and white mule sandals over her pale-painted toes, looking lovely and happy to show off her skinny aerobicized body in tasteful, flesh-revealing summer clothing, which you cannot do in the San Francisco summer cold.

"Where's Dad?" I asked. Ash and Josh had stayed in San Fran with Leila and Fernando, which meant they would probably actually behave for a few days, eat normal meals, and go to bed on time.

"He's downstairs in the lounge having a business

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meeting. He'll be back up soon to take us to lunch. He can't wait to see you."

We sat down on the plush frilly sofa. "So," she said, "What do you think about Frank?"

I shrugged. "Eh. He's okay." If Nancy felt a moment of triumph, her face did not show it.

She said, "When I talked to him this morning, he said his daughter told him you two ran into Justin yesterday."

My heart rate whizzed back up. I nodded but didn't say anything back.

"He said she thought you were pretty upset afterward."

I felt my body go completely cold and still. That was the only way I would be able to keep it together.

Nancy nudged a little further, as only a mom can do. "Want to talk about it?"

If she hadn't leaned over to smooth my hair back, I might not have fallen apart like I did. But somehow that soft and tender touch from the one person in the world who can make you feel safe and loved, no matter what your differences, set off the tears. I did not outright bawl; no, it was worse; a flood of tears streamed down my face, out of control.

Nancy pulled me to her, surprised. "Honey! I didn't realize it was that bad." She placed my head on her shoulder and stroked my hair. "Tell me, Cyd Charisse. Tell me what happened. What's wrong?"

I couldn't hold it back. I sputtered, "He let me go alone."

"Go where?"

My mouth moved faster than my judgment. "The clinic."

There, I said it. If she was going to punish me or torture

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me with another sentence in Alcatraz, so be it.

Instead, she pulled me away a little so she could look me squarely in the eye. Her face was as pale as mine.

She said, "Do you mean what I think you mean?" I nodded. Now it was her eyes that welled with tears. I recoiled a little, thinking she was going to start one of her screaming fits, but instead she grabbed me back to her and kind of rocked me back and forth. We were both crying.

"That little schmuck," she whispered.

After our tears ran their course, we sat together in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the moment, wondering about the consequences of my little secret being out in the open.

When we separated, we were both calm, all cried out. I tell you, I felt better than I had felt in a long time, relieved, lighter, even though I knew she was about to give it to me.

Nancy moved to sit on the ottoman opposite the sofa so she was facing me. Our knees were touching, and she took my hands in hers. She said, "You should have told me. I could have helped you."

"Really?" I said, disbelieving.

"You know, Cyd Charisse, we have our problems. That's normal for a mother and daughter, especially at your age. But no matter what, you are my child, and I am here to help you, to protect you."

"You're not mad?"

"Oh, I'm mad, make no mistake!" She was, too. Her pale face had turned all red and splotchy from the tears and the anger, and her perfect makeup was now streaked on her face. "We'll be dealing with that when you return home and we take a trip to the gynecologist and a family

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counselor together to talk about these issues. But what's done is done. I can't undo it. I can tell you this. I'm horrified you got into that situation to begin with, but I want you to understand that when it comes to your health and your body, you can never, ever be scared to ask for my help. It's too important. I will always help you and I will always support you."

This was about the last reaction I would have expected from Nancy. Even the thought of having to go to therapy with her did not undo the fact of how cool and understanding she was about the whole deal.

Something clicked. I asked her, "You didn't get any help when you were pregnant with me, did you? Is that why we like hardly ever see your parents in Minnesota or talk to them?"

"Yes," she said. "That has a lot to do with it."

I said, "Did you consider having an abortion when you found out you were pregnant with me?"

I do admire about Nancy that she always tells it straight. She said, "Yes. I even got so far as the abortion clinic. Twice."

"Did Frank go with?"

"Yes."

"How come you didn't?"

"When it came down to it, I just couldn't do it. I knew your father was never going to marry me, knew he was making false promises, I knew he would support me financially, but only in quiet. I knew there was no way I could make it work. But I just couldn't do it. Believe me, I agonized."

"What changed your mind?"

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"You might find this shocking, but I had planned to give you up for adoption."

This was shocking. For all that I have not always been the happiest camper in our family, I cannot imagine being part of any other.

"How come you didn't? What changed your mind?"

Nancy said, "My dear, did you ever wonder why you were named for a movie star?"

"Not really," I said. "It's just my name. I thought you named me after that lady because she was your idol."

"She was. But there's another reason. I was all set to give you up for adoption. The papers had been signed, the parents chosen. But I had insisted that I get to name you. I chose the name Cyd Charisse because I wanted to be able to find you, later, and I wanted you to have a name so distinct there could be no mistaking you when I found you. But then, after the birth, they gave you to me to hold, and I couldn't let go. I just couldn't. I knew that whatever it took, I would find a way for us to be together, to be a family."

Just when I thought my tears had run their course, I found a fresh set streaming down my cheeks. I said, "Mom, we don't always get along, but I'm glad you're my mom. I wouldn't want anybody else but you."

She took my hand and rubbed it along her smooth cheek. "That means more to me than anything you could say," she said.

Later, when Sid-dad came back to the hotel room, he found me lying on the sofa, with my head in Nancy's lap. She was stroking my hair and massaging my scalp as I rested. Sid-dad took one look at us then looked up at the room number to make sure he was in the right room.

167

"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes!" he said.

"Aren't
you!"
I said. I leapt up to give him a hug. "Little hellion," I added.

Nancy went into the bathroom, I think to have a good cry in private.

I sat down with Sid-dad and said, "What was I like as a little girl?"

He said, "Fun, and sweet, and rambunctious and naughty."

"Like Ash and Josh?" I said.

"Yes," he answered. "Just not so loud."

When Nancy had said she knew she would do whatever it took to make us a family, I realized she meant Sid-dad. I told him, "I musta really needed a dad."

Sid-dad gave me one of those looks like in those commercials where the dad sends his daughter off to college and the moment is like so proud and bittersweet at the same time. "You know," he said, "I needed a daughter just as much."

168

Thirty-seven

On my last
evening in New York, after Sid and Nancy had returned to San Francisco, the whole bio-fam Frank clan got together for dinner at a very fancy restaurant. I got to wear my special new-old, perfect-fit dress that belonged to lisBETH and Danny's Grandma Molly (mine too, I guess), and we got to see what we would be like as a real family.

Boring, is the first word that comes to mind.

Lots of, "So, Cyd, what's the first thing you'll do back in San Francisco?" and, 'Are you looking forward to going back to school?" You know, the usual deal: lame questions when people really have nothing to say to each other but don't really have anything against each other either, which I guess is something, for this family at least. Watching lisBETH try not to make eyes at Aaron was pretty trippy, and watching Frank try to be discreet checking out all the ladies in fancy dresses and Danny sneak knowing kicks at me under the table, well, it was all cute and good, but my mind was elsewhere: about three thousand miles away in the city where people leave their hearts.

I was busy thinking about my visit with Sid and Nancy, how we had spent a whole day together and not fought, but had talked about the future. Sid didn't get mad when I said I wasn't interested in college and that I wanted to be a barista, at least for a while, maybe own my own cafe some day, like Java and Danny. I told them really I wouldn't mind skipping out of my senior year of high school entirely

169

and just have a job. Sid-dad said no way, no day, but we did work out a compromise. I will go to school for half a day on a work-study arrangement, and then I will spend three afternoons a week in the business office of his company cafeteria, learning about budgets and inventories, and the other two afternoons volunteering at Sugar Pie's nursing home. We all agreed that if I ended up at junior college, it would not be considered to be a tragedy by any of the relevant parties, but we would revisit the issue after Christmas. Nancy agreed that I can take the bus and not have a driver, but both Sid and Nancy said I cannot tease Fernando about Sugar Pie. Good help is hard to find, they said. Plus, they consider him to be a friend. I said I did too but please not to tell him that because we didn't want his broody head to get too big.

The most interesting part of our day had been when they told me about Shrimp. They said he had come to the house right after I left for New York. They said he'd known from Sugar Pie that I was in New York, and he had come to set the record straight with Sid and Nancy. He said he was sorry and that he accepted full responsibility and that he hoped they wouldn't hold the fact that we were young and stupid against us. Nancy tried not to laugh when she related that last part, and she actually called him "Shrimp" instead of
that boy
. I said does this mean Shrimp and I are off probation, and Nancy said "We'll see," but behind her back, Sid-dad nodded yes.

On the cab ride back from dinner with bio-fam, I asked Frank, could we please stop at Miss Loretta's House of Great Eats. He did not look uncomfortable and said, sure, why not. When we got there, I ran inside and found Miss

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Loretta. She pointed to the empty shelf. "You and Gingerbread ready to part ways?" she asked me.

I shook my head. I said, "Naw. Gingerbread is not just a childhood doll. She is as much a part of me as my arms, my legs, my heart. We just wanted to come by and say bye and, like, thanks for the legacy and all."

Miss Loretta twinkle-smiled. "I understand," she said. I think she really did. That is why Gingerbread and I so totally dug Miss Loretta.

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