Love and Other Things I'm Bad At (22 page)

12/25

Still haven’t heard from Grant since last night. I haven’t called him, either. Christmas Stalemate.

Mom is losing her mind. Wonder if she has that seasonal disorder, because it seems like every winter she goes a bit berserk. Spending way too much money on Christmas. Last year she got us all cell phones, but then decided they were no better than traditional phones and returned them. This year she got us all new iBooks because the Internet is her life and thinks it should be ours, too.

“Hey, no complaints, I’ll give my other computer to Mary Jo. But Mom. I’m sort of worried,” I said. It’s like she thinks this is her revenge against the phone company, to live through DSL. Not a life, I pointed out. Alison and I gave long lecture about perils of Instant Messaging with pedophiles. Or in her case, middle-age-o-philes.

There are always people on talk shows, where it’s a 25-year-old dude dating a 50-year-old mom he met through Internet. Lives rent-free, giant scam. Sorry Mom, but we’re the only ones allowed to live rent-free here.

We gave her a really hard time. We went on and on with endless examples of how she shouldn’t trust anybody. Ever. Needless to say, I led the crusade.

Then she told us the guy she’s going out with on New Year’s is the guy in town, from the awards ceremony. And could we please just shut up? She learned her lesson already about chat rooms, and was only trying to give us these computers so we’d have the best advantage in school, in the world . . . Oops.

Alison gave me a cool sweater, Bryan gave me CDs, Dad sent cash. Typical Christmas, really. I’m sort of glad Dad & Sophia & Angelina & Bellarina didn’t come, because last year it was so crowded. Grandma and Grandpa should get here tonight. I’m sure Grandpa will have a million questions about Cornball and I’ll have to put my game face on, tell him I love it.

Well, at least I don’t
hate
it anymore. There is that.

LATER . . .

Grant is back to being Superior.

I was sitting by the window, watching for Grandma and Grandpa, when I saw his car pull up. Nearly had a heart attack. Resisted urge to run upstairs and hide under comforter. Tried to be an adult and went to open the door. Grant came in. He started babbling apologies, and I started trying to counter each apology with one of my own. Then we just looked at each other and I started crying and we started hugging. Grant put his arms around my waist and started kissing my neck. And somehow everything was okay again. Like we’re even now or something.

Ditched waiting for my grandparents to show up and went over to Grant’s house. Very warm reception, parents and Grandmother Superior thrilled to see me. Then they disappeared upstairs so Grant and I could be alone. Christmas carols were playing softly on the stereo. We were holding hands, leaning against each other on sofa. Then suddenly Grant got up and kneeled down, on bended knee or however you say that.

I started panicking. He was going to propose! Mary Jo said we should get engaged if we were serious. But we’d only truly made up a couple of hours ago. What was I going to do, say, how should I react?

Then he scooted across the carpet. Turned out he was just getting down on the floor to pull my presents out from under the tree.

Gave me a new watch, very cool, with a note about counting minutes until we’re together this summer. Gave me a coupon book with all these coupons he’d designed for my favorite things, like: One Chauffeured Drive to Buffalo Overlook, One Hot Dog with the Works at Mustard’s Last Stand, etc.

Love Grant. Love love love him.

Am not going back to CFC for spring semester. Staying here, transferring to CU. Must stay with Grant. I could work full time. Make tons of money; ski every weekend; see Grant all the time. Beautiful plan.

12/26

“So you didn’t make the Dean’s List,” Grandpa said when I got up this morning and stumbled downstairs for coffee. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Um, well, I’m not sure yet, because I haven’t gotten my grades.” I did make Dean S.’s list of “People He’d Like to See Transfer from CFC.” Did that count?

Then he cleared his throat and said he heard about my little protest idea to change the CFC “image.” We got into a big debate, discussion, whatever. He said our idea was “needless nitpicking.”

“But it’s so simple,” I said. “They could add graduate programs and become Cornwall Falls University. CFU. That would work,” I said.

“Don’t you get it?” Grandma said. “Initials aren’t everything in this world, Courtney!”

This from the woman whose family gave me the middle initials V.D.!!!

Total cold war inside house now. He and Grandma are furious with me. Mom, however, is proud of me for being so involved. I guess she didn’t know that I was actually having an impact. Never gives me credit for having an impact on anything.

12/29

Told Alison and Bryan I am thinking about not going back to Wisconsin next week. They told me I’m crazy. Alison said that would be like taking a giant step backward, because my credits might not transfer and I’d be a freshman next fall, and wasn’t once enough? She had a billion arguments about how this would ruin my future academic life, my career, the possibility of me ever becoming Anybody.

Bryan took different tack. He said not to make any decisions based on love. (Has obviously been watching too many relationship experts on
Oprah
, which Mom
tapes
and watches during dinner, exposing her only son to dangerous airborne chemical: talk shows.) (I watch enough to know how they suck you in and ruin your own personal ozone layer.) He said I’d always feel I made a big sacrifice for Grant, and how I’d never be happy.

Hey, I can
be
happy, with or without Grant.

Wait a second. What am I saying?

12/30

Was being stupid and paranoid today and called Grant to ask him if our anniversary ski date is still on. Of course it is, and then he got mad at me for doubting the date, doubting him, me, etc.

“Okay, so I was thinking about moving back here for you, and you’re going to get mad at me now?” I asked.

“What?” he said. “You were going to . . . ?”

“Never mind,” I said. “See you tomorrow, okay?”

“How can you move back
here
when I’m planning to drive you back
there
?” Grant asked.

“What? You are?” (Is he trying to get rid of me?)

We discussed the plan—to leave on Tuesday, get there early in the morning on Wednesday. He doesn’t have to come back until Saturday, so that will give us 3 days together. Plus he can be there for the trustee meeting.

So sweet of him.

But the idea makes me very very nervous. Like TV movie of the week:
Grant in Wauzataukie: When 2 Worlds Collide!

12/31

Spent the day trying to convince Jane to drive back with me and Grant instead of waiting for silly first-class flight in a week.

“No way, I’m not going back yet!” Jane said. “Are you crazy?”

“But you do love Madison,” I reminded her. “And Charles is there, right?”

“No, he’s home with his family, too,” she said.

“Oh. Well, aren’t you getting tired of living under your parents’ roof? I mean, it’s driving
me
crazy, because I’m not used to having my mom watch my every move, you know?”

“My parents are cool. They sort of let me live my own life,” Jane said. She took off her little rectangular glasses to clean them. “What’s really going on here, Courtney?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing. I just thought it would be fun, that’s all. Road trip. Loud music. Windows down.”

“It’s winter,” she said. “And you’re still not telling me what’s at the root of your question.”

Does she
have
to major in psych? “I don’t know what you mean,” I said. When in doubt, feign ignorance.

“Why do you want me there? Don’t you want to be alone with Grant?” Jane asked.

Busted. I twirled around on the kitchen stool. “Well, actually, um,
no
.”

“Courtney, you have to be alone with him sooner or later,” Jane said. “He’s coming to college to stay with you for a few days. Do you really think you can delay it by having me in the backseat? And anyway, what’s wrong? Why can’t you face spending sixteen hours in a car with him? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

So I told her about our big fight, and how I cheated with Wittenauer by kissing him. She was really excited about it, for some reason. “I don’t understand. I thought you liked Grant,” I said.

“I do!” she said. “But this means you’ve
individuated
. Which is what you have to do in order to move on and grow by yourself.”

Don’t know what she was talking about. I told her how we’ve worked through the problems and patched things up, but now I feel like one of those old roads with too many patched potholes. More patch than road.

She said I was being pessimistic, and that every relationship has problems, and the key is to get beyond the superficial problems (kissing others) to the root of the problem (mother issues). Well, sure. Anyone named Mrs. Superior is
going
to have issues. But does Grant have issues with that? Do I? Do I want to marry someone and be known to the world as Courtney Superior?

Wait a second. We are not discussing marriage, we are discussing a boring car trip on interstates. And anyway, Jane’s had like 2 courses and thinks she can diagnose us?

“Okay,” she said when I protested. “So what do you think? Is being exclusive going to work for you this semester any better than it did last semester?”

Did she have to ask that?

He’s coming to pick me up soon to go out to dinner. I should really think about getting dressed up.

1/1

Grant and I had a great day skiing. Last night we went out for an expensive dinner in LoDo with our Christmas money. Very nice, but that’s not the big story. The big story is
Mom’s first date in 5 years
!!!

This guy, Bryan’s girlfriend’s dad (easier to just say “Michael”), came to pick Mom up last night. In dreaded Saturn coupe. It was dark, so maybe Mom was more inclined to overlook his car choice. Mom was more dressed up than I’ve seen her since my high-school graduation. Looked beautiful. I took pictures like it was prom.

She got home
after
me, for once. (Grant and I came home pre-midnight and watched the ball drop on TV; he left as soon as she got home because it was 1
A.M.
). Her face was shiny and happy. She started telling me about the place they went for dinner and how nice it was, and how Michael was really interesting, funny, devoted to his 2 daughters, etc. Then she burst out crying.

“Mom, what is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t explain,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Just like Bryan! Assuming I won’t get it, when truth is I get
everything
, and more.

“What happened?” I asked. “Did he say something? Was the coupe too small? Did he kiss wrong?”

She shook her head and ran for a Kleenex box. “It was all perfect. It was great. I had a really good time.”

I just stood there next to her for a minute, waiting for my brain to figure out what there was to cry about. Is Mom just sort of . . . unbalanced? Allergic to happiness?

“Tonight I realized what I’ve been missing,” she finally said. “And it’s wonderful. And it’s horrible at the same time. You know?”

Agh! Why do relationships have to be so painful to everyone, like, all the time?

Why have one at all?

Tonight we are having a big family dinner: I leave tomorrow, Alison leaves Wednesday. Beth is coming over with Jane.

1/2

Sitting beside Grant in the car. Halfway back to WI. Landscape desolate and cold. We left at 6
A.M.
so we can get there by midnight or so. Very hard saying good-bye to everyone last night. But not as hard as it was in August. It’s better, I think, to know what you’re about to get yourself back into than to get into it the first time. Like cold lake water.

Speaking of Lake Superior, I keep glancing over at Grant and smiling. I am so glad he’s doing this with me? But in some ways, Mom was an easier traveling companion. Sad but true.

1/3

Agh! Disaster.

Grant and I slept late. We were finally heading out when suddenly Mary Jo arrived. She came back early to get a jump on her classes—of course. It was so nice to see her. We gave each other a big hug, and I was introducing her to Grant, and they were of course instantly hitting it off, laughing about his 2 trips out here, commiserating over each getting one B (tragedy).

So we were chatting outside our room as Mary Jo stood there with a suitcase in one hand and a new, horrid framed print in the other hand (a kitten and a puppy having tea) when Ed came down the hallway. At the moment, Grant was teasing me about something, like how I described this place as being
so
bad, but it was all I talked about while I was home, so he was sort of like pretending to give me a giant squeeze.

Before I knew what was happening, Ed ran up and punched Grant in the jaw! God. What a mess. Grant’s already got one half-broken tooth. I could just picture another flying out of his mouth, and then I would be dating a hockey player.

Ed misunderstood the situation and told Grant to get his hands off of me. He told Grant he wasn’t a real man because of what he did to me. (!) (Have never thought of Grant as “real man”—don’t even know what that
means
.) Meanwhile Grant pushed him against the wall and was demanding to know why Ed was sending me gifts and what right he had to interfere, and Ed spat back that it was his right ever since I showed up at their house after Grant abandoned me.

The few girls on the floor who are already back came running out of their rooms to see what was going on. Mary Jo was shrieking at Ed to stop hurting Grant. I was yelling at both of them to just shut up, the whole time thinking: This
isn’t
my life. Guys
don’t
fight over me.

Some guys from downstairs, including R.A. Kevin, overheard, came running upstairs to break up the fight. Kevin made Ed and Grant shake hands and asked if they couldn’t just talk it out, or maybe they should go back to their dorms or to a conflict resolution workshop at the housing office—

At which point Grant and Ed both said at the same time, “Hey, I don’t even
go
here.”

And that was sort of funny so it broke the ice. So we all went inside and sat in the room and made small talk. Still very awkward. Ed was sad because I tried to return his Christmas gifts; he wouldn’t take them; said I should keep them and think of him from time to time. (Sounded like a country song.) Then he left to drive home.

Grant was upset that his jaw is bruised, and upset that Ed feels that possessive of me, and made me explain 10 times that Ed means nothing to me. Mary Jo helped by explaining this habit of crushes Ed has. Mary Jo, Grant, and I went to Brat W. for dinner. Someone working there actually
recognized
Grant. Mary Jo and Grant really did have a ton to talk about. And every once in a while I’d catch myself feeling jealous and suspicious, and then I’d just hate myself for it. But I couldn’t stop.

Mary Jo is being sweet and spending the night down the hall in Tricia’s room. Tricia’s back early because “I got like three Incompletes? And they want me to finish them before classes start on Monday?”

Tricia was very impressed with Grant, I could tell. Wonders how someone “so on the fringe” could have hottie bf. I didn’t
used
to be on the fringe. Or maybe there were just more of us on it back home and I didn’t notice. Crowded Fringe.

Yes, another great band name.

Good night. I shouldn’t be writing in here so much with Grant here, anyway, but he has been reading a textbook since 10, so who cares?