Love and Other Things I'm Bad At (21 page)

12/16

Saw Grant for the first time this morning. Got so nervous, I tripped coming down the stairs. Not the impression I wanted to make. We hugged, then stood in the hallway for a minute or two. Very awkward. Still 100 percent attracted to Grant. Grant seems to think everything is A-okay between us, like isn’t it great I’m home and now we can spend the next 2–3 weeks together? I’m just confused.

We went out to lunch and talked nonstop about school, classes, exams, papers, anything but about us. Then out of the blue he said, “What do you want to do for our anniversary?”

Anniversary?

“Well, that won’t be until, um . . .” Until I figure out whether you can count the last month or not, since weren’t we technically not together???

“New Year’s,” Grant said. “Right? So do you want to go skiing at Breckenridge like last year, or . . .”

“Sure,” I said quickly. “Sure. Breckenridge. Sounds great.”

He gave me a funny look and then went ahead and ordered dessert. It was so good to be with him again, but I didn’t know if I could sit through an apple cobbler without crying. Also, I kept thinking that I had to tell him that I fell off the wagon, too, kissing WW III.

Kissing WW III. Yet
another
great name for a band.

Should probably give up pursuit of poli sci degree and go into band management.

This working-things-out thing is so tedious. No wonder Dad just left, moved out of the house, started a new relationship without patching things up with Mom. Perhaps I don’t give him enough credit for being smart.

12/18

Talked to Mom today about her perennial singleness. Kept tossing out names of potential suitors. “Whatever happened with that nice single guy you met at the awards ceremony? The father of that girl Bryan likes? You guys really hit it off. So why won’t you go out with him?”

She beat around the bush for like 20 minutes talking about Christmas week/tree trimming/dinner plans. Then she finally said, “But he drives a Saturn. Two-door.”

“So?”
I asked.

“Well, I’ve never liked anyone who drove a coupe. Man or woman.” She said this like it was logical.

Grrrr
. She’s going to spend the rest of her life all alone because she’d rather get involved with a sedan person? Or worse—another mini-van driver, to match her Caravan?

“So what
are
you looking for, Mom? An SUV?” I asked.

She wouldn’t answer. She got all offended.

“Mom, come on, I’m worried about you,” I said. “Alison and I are both in college, and Bryan’s going to be soon—”

“So what are you saying? I’m old? Yes, I know I’m old, thanks for pointing that out.”

“Mom, you’re only . . . what? Forty-three?”

“Forty-seven.”

“Oh.” That seems old, but I didn’t tell her that.

12/19

Totally embarrassing scene tonight.

Grant came over to get me so we could go Christmas shopping at the new giant mall in Broomfield. Went to our favorite stores but didn’t buy anything. Felt really uncomfortable. Whenever he took my hand to hold it, I started thinking horrible things about how I kissed Wittenauer and hadn’t ’fessed up yet. So there we were, strolling through the food court, when I heard someone yelling my name. Turned around and saw the Tom coming toward us. Agh! So humiliating. The last time I
saw
him was months ago, and the last time I talked to him, he was telling me how Grant and Beth hooked up. And like gloating about it.

The Tom came toward us doing his trademark saunter, like he didn’t really
care
if we were there or not, even though he was shouting my name sort of desperately a couple of seconds ago. He had 2 girls with him, of course—never travels without at least 2. They looked like they might be high-school sophomores. Maybe. So he gave me this hug that was verging on pornographic, the girls looked mad, Grant looked pissed, never mind there’s never been
anything
between me and Tom and never will be. Then he stood back and said “Hey, Superior,” and then he said, “So you
are
still together.” Sounded very shocked. Not that it takes much to puzzle the Tom, but still. Had he heard otherwise?

12/20

Stopped by T or D today to visit Gerry and bring him a block of Wisconsin brick cheese. Drove up to buffalo overlook first to visit old friends and prepare myself, just in case. Then I drove to Canyon Blvd. and sat outside in the car trying to establish that Beth was definitely not inside T or D, not in the storeroom, not in the bathroom, not out back smoking. . . . I must have been there 20 minutes. People kept going in and coming out with their smoothies and sundaes. They’d come back to their cars and see me sitting there, and I knew it was only a matter of time before 1 of them reported me for being a stalker.

Also I started to feel like a freak, sitting there parked outside my old workplace. Like I couldn’t move on or something. Hey, I have moved on. I don’t even live here anymore.

Finally got out of the car and went into the store. On the way in, checked out strip-mall sign that Beth had supposedly damaged. Looked fine to me. Went inside. Gerry wasn’t there. Place was very crowded. Out of control. Beth working. Very flustered. 1 woman was complaining about her sundae having the wrong syrup, a boy was demanding a cleaner spoon, etc. Meanwhile there were about 10 people waiting for smoothies and cones. Beth caught my eye and her face sort of brightened. Her hair was all askew and she had 10 different fruits splashed on her hemp apron. I just felt so
bad
. We’d been in this situation together so many times.

So the next thing I knew I was dashing behind the counter, grabbing the apron covered with the Holstein cow pattern. “Don’t you hate these balmy December days where everyone feels they just
have
to get out and enjoy frozen food products?” I muttered to Beth as I quickly washed my hands.

We got to work really quickly and didn’t speak much for the next half hour. When I looked up and there was no line, I knew we’d have to talk. Busied myself making my own smoothie while I stalled. My old favorite, a CFS. That’s CF for Coconut Fantasy, not Cornwall Falls. Not to be confused. Ever.

Beth came over to stand beside me. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. How did you know Gerry ran out for supplies right
before
the after-lunch rush?”

“I didn’t.” Because if I had, I wouldn’t have come in here, I thought. But I had to be more “mat-oor” about all this. “Um, I just thought we should talk,” I said.

“So, when did you get home?” she asked.

“Saturday,” I said. “Well, Friday, but late.” We made small talk for a while, about Jane, about Christmas plans, about exams. Then there was this gulf that opened up. I wanted her to bring up the Grant thing. I wanted a customer to come in and order 10,000 smoothies, so neither one of us would have to bring it up. But it was good to see her, even if my stomach was bubbling like overcooked hot fudge. You know when you take it off the burner but it keeps cooking. Like that.

“You never answered any of my emails,” she finally said. “And that’s okay. But I just—well, it’s been killing me.”

“Me, too,” I said.

“I don’t know, Court,” she said. “I don’t think you should forgive me. But if you could . . . that would be so great.”

Just then Gerry barreled through the door carrying packages of napkins and a tower of boxes of plastic silverware. He was panting and out of breath. He stared at me, did a double take, and then dropped one of the boxes. It opened as it fell, and 100 plastic forks spilled onto the tile floor.

“Now, what am I going to do with a hundred forks?” he muttered. “I can’t believe I grabbed forks by mistake. Courtney? I don’t know why you have an apron on, but a little help? Please?”

I went over and started collecting them into a heap. “You’re going to have to wash these now, you realize.”

“Not to mention come up with menu items requiring forks.” He laughed. “How are you? When did you get into town?”

“A few days ago,” I said. “I came by to bring you something, and, well. You know. The after-lunch rush was happening.”

He stood up and brushed some chocolate sprinkles off his knees. “Well, I guess I didn’t need to rush back. You guys have everything covered, as usual.”

I helped him carry the stuff into the storeroom while Beth waited on customers. After we put the spoons and napkins on shelves, he stood there and stared at me for a few seconds, doing his typical Gerry “let me analyze you because I used to do this for a living” gaze.

“Your hair . . . you’re different,” he said. I had sort of forgotten about my haircut. Least of my problems lately. Also, I keep forgetting that I have these 2 separate lives now—home and school.

“Everything’s going all right at school?” he asked.

“Um, sure,” I said. “I mean, as well as can be expected.”

That scared him. “You’re not flunking out, are you?”

“No, of course not,” I said.

“And you and Grant, you’re doing well?” he asked.

“As well as can be expected,” I said again. Trying to give him an answer without really answering. Only way to deal with prying questions.

“So. Everything going all right with, you know?” He tried to make a sly little head gesture toward Beth, who was still up front.

“Sure,” I said. “I mean . . . as well as can be expected.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to all my questions from now on?” he asked, giving me the old G.C. look.

“Pretty much,” I said.

Left with the promise to call Beth tomorrow and possibly meet her and Jane, who gets in tonight after trip to see new bf’s band perform in Chicago.

I hope Beth and I can put this behind us and move on and be friends again. I have really missed her. Am crossing my fingers as I write this. With my other hand, dummy.

12/21

Spent a hilarious afternoon at Jane’s house. Jane and I were telling Wisconsin stories to Beth, exaggerating maybe a little, but mostly true. Talked about stupid things we’d done at parties and said in class. Reminisced about senior year. I described seeing the Tom at the mall. Started telling Tom stories. We started giggling and couldn’t stop. Perhaps it was because we were splitting beers stolen from the giant Nakamura beer fridge in the basement, while Jane played a tape of her new bf’s music. I kept suggesting new names for his band but she wasn’t impressed. I think maybe Brat Virgin stands a chance, though.

At one point I looked at Beth and realized I have to forgive her. Or I have already forgiven her. Like today. We have this connection. We have a history. It has nothing to do with Grant. Started thinking of how Mary Jo chose me over Joe, and how that talk show guest chose ho’s over bro’s.

And anyway, Beth spent like half an hour describing new guy she’s seeing. So that helped.

I got home really late and Bryan said Grant had stopped by and called a couple of times and was looking kind of worried. We were supposed to go to dinner tonight. We were?

12/23

Alison got home yesterday. Very excited to see her. Spent all day and night talking. She has many valuable insights into . . . everything.

Why am I the only child in the family without insights? Is it because I’m the middle child? I’m too busy trying to convince everyone to get along to have insights. Despite insightful natures, however, Alison has only been home 24 hours and she and Bryan have already had 3 fights re: fabric softener sheets, folding stuff left in the dryer, and the lint screen.

Got a big package in the mail this afternoon. I thought it was from Mary Jo because of the return address, and I was completely shocked because we sort of exchanged little gifts before we left. But it wasn’t from her. It was from Ed.

Grant happened to come over to get me just as I was opening the box and pulling out little red and green boxes with gold ribbons. (Really need to send those gifts back without opening them, but I wonder what they are.)

Grant looked very shocked. Stunned, actually.

“Who’s
Ed
?” he asked in this really unhappy voice.

“Oh, just this guy,” I said. “Mary Jo’s brother.”

“What? I don’t believe you,” Grant said.

“Look.” I showed him the postmark and for a split second thought fondly of Mary Jo’s bio mother, stamping the package. Pictured all the Johannsens, pictured the house, remembered the cows.

Grant misinterpreted my thoughtful moment as wistful pining. “Is that why you went to her house for Thanksgiving?” he asked. “So you could spend time with her brother Ed?”

“What?” I laughed. “No!” I started to describe how Ed and I got to know each other during Parents Weekend—

“You never mentioned that,” Grant said. “You never said anything about Ed.”

Then I realized how dangerously close we were getting to the WW III discussion, so I told him Ed was not important to me, it was a harmless crush, and that we’d better get going if we wanted to see the Wildlights at the Zoo.

Last year we kissed for the first time, okay actually sort of made out, at Wildlights. This year we stomped around in the cold with Grant not in a good mood, and I finally dragged it out of him that he found out he did not get all A’s and actually got one B. Not even in his major, so who cares? But Grant cares. Obsessing about it. Tried to distract him with kisses. Was like kissing one of the metal giraffe statues.

12/24

’Twas the night before Christmas

And all through the house

Courtney was in big trouble

No more parties.
Really
. I mean it this time.

The big party was tonight. The Lebeau Mansion.

Last year I panicked and kissed the Tom. This year was even worse. Started out sort of fun, and also funny, because ex Dave showed up, home for Christmas. Gave him a huge hug and he looked confused. Didn’t want to tell him he was right about LDRs being impossible, but he was. Not going to tell him that due to the rude way he dropped the bomb on me seconds before leaving town last year, that it was all over between us. Would never do that to anyone.

Anyway, here’s what happened after that. Had some punch with Jane and Beth. Bryan and Alison were mingling. Grant and I then sat by the fire on this giant velvet sofa. Should have been very romantic but my mind kept wandering. I kept thinking about the fireplace at Dean S.’s house, our Fun-Times Funders party, and then I started thinking about Wittenauer, and my guilt about kissing him, and our trustee meeting coming up. Kept slugging punch. Grant and I went to refill our cups, and there was the Tom, hanging out with Beth. The Tom said something like, “Here comes the happy couple, back together again!” Beth looked like she wanted to die, and bolted for the front door. Didn’t faze the Tom. He started teasing me all about how I was the forgiving type, and just his luck, he never got to go out with
those
kinds of girls. Then I told him that was because he only went out with idiot skanks.

Ran outside onto the terrace. Grant came outside after me. I threw my cup of punch over the cute brick wall and told him that I wasn’t over what happened, was never going to get over it, couldn’t stand that he kissed Beth and that I kissed Wittenauer and—

“What?”
Grant said. “Who’s Wittenauer?”

“His name’s Walter, okay? And he’s also Corny. And he’s also a three,” I said. “And let’s face it. He just doesn’t sound as good as he is in person.”

“What?” Grant cried again. “Courtney, who is this guy? Are you serious about him?”

“No! We’re friends, that’s all,” I said. “And it didn’t mean anything, we just got carried away by a Badicals project and we were at this party and he walked me home and it just
happened
.”

“You’ve been home for a week, and you’re just telling me now?” Grant went into furious mode. “Court, I called you the next day after Beth and I . . . you know. And that’s only because I was waiting until it was a decent hour—”

“Like there’s a decent hour to tell me that you and my best friend—”

“It was nothing! Nothing nothing nothing!” Grant insisted.

We got into this competition of whose slip-up/kiss error was worse, mine or his. Practically screaming. Completely ridiculous.

Went inside and got Bryan and insisted he take me home right away. The Tom overheard and volunteered to drive me.

“I have enough problems, okay? I don’t need you mauling me in the car,” I said.

“Like I would,” the Tom said.

Not
this
again.