Hurricane Days (28 page)

Chapter Fifty

The holiday break wouldn’t have been complete without a surprise visit from Marc. He arrived unannounced one morning, wearing a black overcoat and holding a small wrapped gift.

“Marc!” Mom exclaimed with arms outstretched. “Come in from the cold right this minute!” She treated him like a son. “Robin! You have a visitor!”

Just the way she announced him—I knew who it was. I took a deep breath in front of my stereo, where I was still working on Adrienne’s tape.

I came downstairs in a simple cranberry turtleneck and jeans. “Hi,” I said.

Marc raised his face to see me on the staircase. He looked as though I was a leading lady in the movie of his life. It was far too much pressure. Only now I understood what he felt, why he kissed me the way he did. And I knew with certainty that I couldn’t return those feelings.

“I’ll leave you kids alone.” Mom scurried down the hall. She was even more excited to see Marc, I think, after the previous dinner conversation.

“Hi,” he said, gazing at me.

I came over to him, but I kept a safe distance between us. I was uncomfortable with the way he stared. I stuffed my hands into my pockets to give my arms something to do. After a moment, he presented me with a Christmas gift. I hadn’t gotten him anything, and my face burned red-hot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I’d see you.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. It probably wasn’t okay.

I unwrapped a small box and pulled up a silver bracelet with a charm that had our initials engraved in it. “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

“You think so?” His voice was suddenly hard and businesslike.

“Yeah. Thank you.” I reached up to kiss his cheek, but he turned, and my lips bumped his chin. It was awkward, as I expected it to be, especially knowing that I’d spent all of last night working on a music tape for my roommate.

“You don’t write or call,” he said.

“Neither did you.”

“I asked your mom in church for your address. She said she’d get it and forgot to give it to me.”

“Oh.” I held my head in shame. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t even think about seein’ me over break. You really think it feels like we’re in a relationship?”

I exhaled in frustration. Nervously stroking the top of Dad’s velvet chair, I finally decided to let the pretense go. He wasn’t a fool. It was time to stop treating him like one.

“No, it doesn’t,” I answered. “But we knew things would be different when we went to college. I’m sure you’ve met other girls.”

“I’ve met some,” he said. “But they aren’t you. So I guess you found another guy?”

“Not exactly.”

He threw his hands in the air. “What does that mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I care about you,” I exclaimed. “I really do. But I think we should let each other experience life. I don’t want you to feel committed to me.”

“Thing is,” he muttered, “I want to be. I love you.”

I couldn’t say it back. He started for the door. “Enjoy the bracelet,” he said bitterly and left.

Hearing the door, Mom rushed back into the foyer.

“Robin,” Mom scolded. “You didn’t even offer to take his coat? Or invite him to stay for cheesecake?”

“Trust me, Mom. It wouldn’t have been a good idea.”

“I realized I forgot to get your address for him. Every time I saw him in church, I said to myself, ‘I need to get that.’ But I forgot.” She was blaming herself for us breaking up, which I was sure she heard from eavesdropping in the kitchen.

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” I said. “It really isn’t.”

* * *

The last night before going back, I spent a lot of time in my room, even though I knew my parents wanted more time to visit with me. I didn’t want to answer more questions. Dad wanted me to pledge a sorority, but I thought they were weird. The first week of school was Rush Week, where all the new pledges chose, and were chosen by, a sorority. I saw all these girls crying in the arms of total strangers because they were now wearing the same letters on their shirts. It was too weird for me. I told Dad I’d consider it, but I wasn’t going to.

There was a knock on my door. “It’s Ken.”

“Come in.” I sat up, surprised to hear his voice. He’d gone home after Christmas to take care of his sick girlfriend. I was glad he came back.

“Hey, Robbie,” he said. His face was warm and familiar. He closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed. “Mom and Dad wanted me to check on you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because I’m in my room?”

He nodded. “You know them. They want to make sure you’re not…whatever they saw on a talk show.” He ran through the list. “Teenage depression, pregnancy…”

“No chance of that,” I laughed. “If they only knew…” It slipped out before I could censor myself.

“If they only knew what?” His face was relaxed. He didn’t have the same expressions of my parents, who always seemed to be moments from needing a padded cell.

I looked at him intensely. If only I could unburden myself, share my secret with someone I trusted.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Well…” He mussed my hair and got me to laugh. Then he looked at me seriously and imitated something our high school counselor used to say: “Now remember, dorms are for studying, not sexual relations.”

I slapped him playfully. Of course his joke was aimed at my goody-two-shoes reputation. He’d gone to college for a semester, but decided it wasn’t right for him. Again, he managed to tell my parents, who were very disappointed. I thought I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with hot pokers than disappoint them. But he switched to a vocational school, and they were eventually okay with that.

“Ken?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

“Sure you do. What is it?” He could always see through me.

In his face I saw the boy I climbed trees with, went to Sunday school with, all those things that had once made sense. If I revealed myself, it would make me a stranger to him. What if he looked at me like Mom and Dad did?

“If I told you something, could you keep it secret from Mom and Dad?” I smiled awkwardly.

“Of course. You never told them mine.”

“Huh?”

“They still don’t know about the tattoo on my ass.”

“That’s right!” I remembered. Now I had some leverage. I laughed. When he was in high school, he went to a friend’s party and got drunk. He came home with a tattoo of a cross on his right butt cheek, but couldn’t remember how it got there. Since it wasn’t in a spot where our parents were likely to see it, no one had to know. He was kind of proud of it, although I’d never seen him as the tattoo type. He wanted to tell me, though, and I swore I’d never reveal his secret. “So you kind of owe me, don’t you?” I smiled playfully.

“This better be good.” He lay across the bed with hands folded.

There was so much heaviness on my face, and I knew he could see it. I was carrying not only the weight of the world, but the universe and whatever other matter existed out there too.

“Hey,” he coaxed. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh yes, it can.” I got up to check the hallway, making sure no one was nearby. Then I locked the door. I came back to the head of my bed and took a deep breath. “It’s my roommate.”

He nodded. I could tell from his blank stare, he had no idea where I was going with this.

“I think…” I couldn’t look at him and say it at the same time. So I looked at the floor. “I have a crush on her.” I practically whispered it.

He looked surprised, but not in a horrified way, as Mom and Dad would have. “Wow.” That was all he could say.

“That’s it?” I snapped. “
Wow
?”

“Well…” He considered the situation thoughtfully. “You’re not the kind of person I’d expect to…you don’t seem like you’ve ever had a wild thought in your life. Remember when I’d want to go exploring some barn, and you’d say it was trespassing, and we’d get in trouble? That’s how I see you, I guess. So…wow. What’re you gonna do?”

“I already did.” I looked away.

I heard a quiet chuckle. Maybe he was merely impressed that I’d done something wild.

“You…slept with her?” His eyes were wide with surprise.

“Yeah, but just once. Swear you won’t say anything.”

“I won’t.” After a pause, “Cool.”

“No, this isn’t some male fantasy thing. I think it’s the real thing.”

He looked strangely at me. “Does this mean you’re queer?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what it means. But you can’t say anything. Ever.”

He crossed his heart. “I’ll take it to the grave.” As he started for the door, my throat swelled as if I’d soon cry. He turned around and said, “Whatever you are, you know I love you no matter what. You’re my sister.”

I jumped up and gave him the biggest hug. This was unusual for him. Kenneth had never been one for long or important conversations. Usually he’d grunt and I knew what he meant. I assumed most boys weren’t big talkers until I met Marc. But I hadn’t been around Ken in so long, maybe his girlfriend Sheila had forced him to talk more.

“I won’t say a word, but you know,” he continued. “It wouldn’t kill Mom and Dad to wake up a little. I know a girl who got pretty pissed at something Dad said about unwed mothers. It was in the newspaper.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s…so scary.” Before he could leave, I said, “Give my best to Sheila.”

“Uh, since we’re tellin’ secrets…” He seemed awkward, as he came closer. “I kinda said she was sick so Mom and Dad wouldn’t get all…you know how they get.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“We’ve been havin’ some problems. We’re havin’ a separation for a while. But we’re not broken up or anything.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He wouldn’t look at me.

Kenneth and Sheila had been in a relationship since high school. It was hard to imagine them not together.

“I don’t know if she’s the right one. But don’t say a word.” His intense plea was understandable. Sheila’s family had a lot of money, and they were considered a perfect match as far as our parents were concerned. So I could see why he was reluctant to share this with them. “We’ll probably get back together soon.”

“Don’t do it,” I replied. “Not unless you really want her. I mean, this is your life. You had no trouble telling Dad you didn’t want to stay at the farm.”

“This is a little different.”

“Make sure you’re really happy, or don’t do it,” I repeated.

He nodded in a way that I could tell he wasn’t really going to pay attention. I worried for him. I stared at the closed door a while after he left. A sinking, anxious feeling overcame me. School would be starting in a few days. I wondered if, living in the same world of limitations and expectations, Ken or I could do what our hearts really wanted.

I settled back into my pillows. I could hear the agitated voices of my parents downstairs, especially my father’s because it was the loudest. The cold, hopeless sensation returned to my stomach. It was a nice dream while it lasted.

Chapter Fifty-One

Ann DeMarco was too sharp a reporter to let go of a story when her instincts told her it was good. No doubt rumors had been flying that Adrienne paid a visit to the Georgia state capitol right before Governor Sanders’ somewhat strange press conference. Robin suspected that Ann would be investigating more than anyone, to see if this affair was a misunderstanding as Adrienne Austen had portrayed it or if it was something more—a real love story.

As Robin rehearsed for the debate, she caught the end of a nightly news program with Ann DeMarco. Ann ended the broadcast with the teaser: “Did Governor Sanders come clean about her alleged college affair? Contact us on the ‘Tweet Line’ anytime. We’d love to get your tips. We’d especially like to hear from former college friends who can tell us if there’s more to this story than meets the eye. Until then, have a great night.”

Ann flipped a page on her desk and smiled a twinkling smile.

Robin was angry. Of all the top news reporters, Ann had never pandered to the ratings machine. This “Tweet Line” tip line was a new thing, however, and everyone on her network had begun to promote it. They were trying to be “more interactive.” So Ann may have had no choice. Even so, Robin believed she had no friends in the media. They were all wild animals, looking to make their next kill.

Then in one loud exhale, Robin said, “Carol.” She was the first person to come into Robin’s mind, especially with her lack of a censor switch and habitually rude bluntness. There was no way to predict what Carol would say if reporters got to her before Robin had a chance to talk with her.

* * *

Lara accompanied the governor to a small psychiatric facility in Montgomery, Alabama.

“What are you not saying?” Robin asked after an unusually long silence on the private plane.

“I’m not saying that I think you’re overreacting,” Lara said. “I’m not saying that I think you’re making everything too goddamn personal and that it’s going to affect your standing in the polls. And I’m especially not saying that you should be focused on the biggest debate of your life in just a few fucking days. Not saying!” She held up her hands.

“They’re sniffing around where they shouldn’t,” Robin snapped. “Carol hasn’t done anything to anyone. She’s in an institution, for God’s sake. How dare they!”

“They haven’t,” Lara said.

“Not
yet
,” Robin corrected.

Robin felt very protective of Carol. She was saddened that her career as a public figure could compromise the privacy of all her former friends.

“Honey,” Lara said, “you’ve got to get your priorities straight. You of all people know it gets ugly at this stage.”

“Not if I can help it.” She heard how naïve she sounded, but for a moment, she remembered the spark of idealism she had when she first sought a career in public service. She smiled bitterly to herself. She used to think that her soul was a small price to pay in order to do some good.

* * *

Once inside the facility, Robin was left alone to visit her old friend in her room. She was first shocked at Carol’s appearance—her unkempt, long and frizzy gray hair, cascading down her shoulders like a sixties’ folk singer. She still had a nose ring, but no makeup. Her tired eyes had deep bags under them, and her dramatic weight loss left her cheeks slightly sunken and her arms like twigs. She knew that Carol’s medications had terrible side effects, and her appearance was probably the result of years of those drugs. Even so, she felt a heaviness in her heart at the circumstances.