Outrageously Alice (12 page)

I moved quickly away, but I couldn’t resist one last peek. This time she was in his arms with her hands on his chest, his chin resting on top of her head. They were rocking slowly from side to side, as though dancing to some music only they could hear—the most gentle, loving embrace I’d ever seen.

I swallowed and wiped my eyes with two fingers.

“What’s the matter?” asked Les, hanging up the towel.

“Love,” I said, and sniffled.

*   *   *

On Monday, of course, Elizabeth and Pamela wanted all the details, and we were still talking about it when Mr. Everett was starting class.

“It’s fate,” said Elizabeth with certainty. “I think God planned it so that your dad would fall off the ladder on a day that Miss Summers would be home, so that they would end up in each other’s arms.”

“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Couldn’t God have thought up something a little less dangerous?”

“If it was less dangerous, Miss Summers wouldn’t have been so concerned, and she might have just visited him at the hospital, and that would be that,” said Elizabeth.

“Miss Price,” said Mr. Everett, “why is it that whenever I’m ready to start the class, you are not?”

That wasn’t exactly true. Most of the time, Elizabeth was more than ready. I guess even the best teachers are entitled to an off day now and then, but Elizabeth embarrasses easily, and her face turned as red as her notebook. This was the second time he’d singled her out. She sat with her eyes on her desk for half the period, and when the bell rang at last, and I apologized to her, telling her I was as much at fault as she was, she said, “Well, one good thing, anyway; I’m not in love with Mr. Everett anymore.”

*   *   *

The following Wednesday, I dressed in my best shiny black pants, a white rayon blouse, and a red-and-gold vest that my cousin Carol had sent me for Christmas. Crystal had said someone would pick me up at six for the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, so I watched out the window, my coat over my arm.

“It
does
seem a strange time for a wedding,” Dad said, walking through the rooms, emptying the wastebaskets. The rehearsal was the night before Thanksgiving, and the wedding was to be the day after, which meant everyone would pig out on the day in between—Thanksgiving. “The bride might eat so much, she won’t fit into her gown.”

“What are
we
doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked. Sometimes Dad makes a reservation at a restaurant and we all go out.

“Lester’s invited Marilyn, and I’ve asked Janice to join us,” Dad said. “Sylvia’s going to fly to her sister’s over the holidays. They haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

“Oh,” I said. Ever since Janice Sherman had her uterus removed, I think Dad’s felt a little sorry for her, and includes her when he can. But I don’t think a woman should go around using her hysterectomy to get special attention, and I still wished it was Miss Summers instead of Janice.

The phone rang. It was Patrick.

“Hi. Whatcha doing?”

“I’m dressed like you wouldn’t believe. The rehearsal dinner,” I told him. “Crystal’s getting married on Friday.”

“Oh, that,” said Patrick. “Wouldn’t it be weird if the minister forgot and pronounced them man and wife during the rehearsal, and they figured since they were already married they could just skip the wedding, so they went on their honeymoon two days early, and when people came to the wedding the bride and groom were gone?”

Had Patrick always been like that, I wondered, and I just hadn’t noticed?

“Yeah, that would be a scream,” I said as the doorbell rang. “Hold on a minute.”

I put the phone down and opened the front door. There was this handsome guy, and I knew right away it must be the groom’s younger brother.

“Alice, I presume?” he said.

I smiled. “Yes. Danny?”

“At your service,” he said. “Everybody was rushing around like mad back at the hotel, so Crystal asked if I’d pick you up.”

“I’m ready,” I said. Then I remembered Patrick. “Just a minute.” I picked up the phone again.

“Who’s that?” asked Patrick.

“Danny, brother of the groom. He’s driving me to the rehearsal. I’ve gotta go, Patrick.”

“Well, go! You’ve got a bathroom, haven’t you?” Patrick said, and laughed.

“I mean it.”

“What’s this guy look like? Tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Now that you mention it, yes. Listen, I really …”

“How old is he?”

“Patrick, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“What time will you be back?”

“I don’t know. Late. See you!” I said, and hung up.

“Boyfriend?” asked Danny as he helped me on with my coat.

“Something like that,” I said, and felt guilty. Patrick might act immature sometimes, but he was still one of the nicest guys I knew. Not that I’d known all that many, of course.

Dad walked in from the dining room.

“Oh, Dad, this is Danny … uh …”

“Carey,” said the boy. “That’s French. Just kidding.”

Dad smiled wryly. “You the driver?”

“Yes, sir! Want to see my license?” Danny made as though to take out his wallet.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take your word for it if
you promise to get my daughter there and back safely. You won’t be drinking, I trust?”

I was embarrassed that Dad was treating me like his precious little daughter and, at the same time, pleased that I
was
precious to him.

“No, sir! Your designated driver,” Danny said, turning to me.

We went out to his car, and Danny opened the door for me, then went around and got in on the driver’s side. “Better fasten your seat belt,” he said. “Your dad’s watching from the window.”

I laughed.

He asked what kind of music I liked, and I said, “Any kind,” so he turned on the radio and got some jazz. The church wasn’t very far away, maybe twenty minutes from our house, so we didn’t have to make conversation for long. He said he was a senior in high school in New Jersey and had applied to seven different colleges. He wanted to go into engineering.

“Are you thinking about a career yet, or is eighth grade a little soon?” he asked.

“Oh, no, it’s not too early to think about that,” I said. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, actually. I’m planning to become a psychiatrist.”

“Really!” he said, and glanced over at me to see if I was joking. “Well! Interesting choice! Interesting people make interesting choices, so you must be fascinating.”

“Very,” I said, and we laughed.

Crystal’s mother was orchestrating the rehearsal, and she wanted everything to go perfectly, so it made me a little nervous when I realized I’d be the first bridesmaid down the aisle. I kept reminding myself what Patrick had said, about the bride and groom getting married accidentally during the rehearsal and taking off, just to keep my sense of humor.

As I was standing at the altar, though, in the V shape Mrs. Harkins had arranged us in, I could see both Crystal and Peter and the pews for the congregation, and it seemed as though we were rehearsing not just for Crystal’s wedding but for life: going through our paces, thinking about the “for better or worse.” Nobody knew what would happen tomorrow even, much less ten years from now. Life suddenly seemed more serious than it had before. But the rehearsal dinner was fun. Everyone piled into cars again and headed for a restaurant. By the time we’d all helped ourselves at the buffet table, I’d met about a dozen different people.

“
Where
did you say you’d met Crystal?” Danny’s mother
asked me as we both took a chocolate-covered strawberry at the same time.

“Just an old family friend,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask more. I popped another strawberry in my mouth, and I guess she figured I was in no condition to answer more questions, because she started talking to someone else.

Mr. Carey drove me home afterward. I guess I was a little disappointed. I was hoping I could see more of Danny. Dad was relieved simply to see
me
.

“I’m glad you’re home safe, honey,” he said. “I’ll have to admit I’m not looking forward to the time your friends have driver’s licenses and you’re out riding around.”

I kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve got two and a half years before that happens,” I said, and went upstairs to change. I was thinking how Danny had perked up when I said I was going to be a psychiatrist. Like here was a girl who knew where she was going. Here was a girl with smarts. I wondered what he’d think if he knew I’d gone to school a few weeks ago with my hair in green spikes.

I guess that the kind of person you really are will win out in the end; it’s not something, like green mousse, you can just apply. Everyone will know it’s phony. Like Danny said, interesting people do interesting things, and I guess the way not to be boring was not to be bored myself.

I stood in front of my mirror to admire myself one more time before I took off my fancy clothes. I thought about mom’s three miscarriages and how very much she and Dad had wanted me. Who was this girl I was looking at? I wondered. A future wife? A mother? A psychiatrist? All three?

IT WAS A STRANGE THANKSGIVING. FOR
me, anyway. I suppose that for everyone else it was a great Thanksgiving. But for me the “big day” would arrive the day after.

Janice Sherman came bringing everything, practically, but the turkey and pies. It looked as though she had cleaned out her refrigerator. Marilyn brought the pies and rolls.

Sitting across from Marilyn and looking around the table, I wondered what everyone was thinking. Dad, I knew, was missing Miss Summers, but he’d rather she was with her sister than with Mr. Sorringer, that’s for sure.

Janice was delighted to find that Miss Summers was out of town, and must have felt she had a chance with Dad, because she wore a wool dress that clung to her body like a wet T-shirt. Marilyn and Lester and I were probably the only ones at the table who were thinking about Crystal.

Marilyn was chatty and sparkly, and took second helpings of everything. She looked as though she were ready to conquer the world—Lester, anyway—now that the competition was out of the way.

Les was quiet. He was serious and polite and acted about ten years older. Where would we all be and what would we be doing the
following
Thanksgiving? I wondered.

Marilyn left early because both she and Lester had papers to write over the weekend, and Les had a big exam coming up. But Janice hung around till every last piece of food was put away, the turkey carcass was picked over and plunked in the trash bag, and the dishes done. Once you let Janice Sherman in your house, she doesn’t stop till the place is organized, and I was afraid she’d tackle our closets next. Dad tried to get her to sit down in the living room for a while.

“Are you sure there’s nothing more I can do?” she asked.

“Only sit and watch this old man fall asleep,” he joked.
“Alice and I have a big day tomorrow, and I hate to admit it, but I’m tired.”

“Well, it was a wonderful Thanksgiving, Ben. I loved being a part of your family,” she said.

That was a proposal if I ever heard one, but Dad just gave her a squeeze, helped her on with her coat, and carried her dishes and containers out to the car.

“She’s not, is she?” I asked him as soon as he came back inside.

“Who’s not what?”

“A part of our family?”

“Not unless we adopt her or something.”

“Dad, please don’t marry Janice Sherman.”

“Good grief, it never entered my head.”

“Then let’s keep it that way,” I said.

As I passed Lester’s room later, I saw him sitting at his desk with tablets and textbooks all around him. He stopped to stretch, tipping his head way back, and saw me standing in the doorway.

“What’s this? A spy?”

I walked on in and leaned against his closet door.

“Could I ask a personal question?” I said.

“If I can answer it in thirty seconds.” He took a drink of Pepsi from the can on his desk.

“Are you real upset you didn’t get an invitation to Crystal’s wedding?”

For once, he didn’t try to turn one of my questions into a joke.

“In a way,” he said. “I guess I’ll have to look at Crystal as a lovely chapter in my life, and that’s all. I’ve got the memories, and I really hope she and Peter are happy. He seems nice enough, from what I’ve heard.”

“Good,” I said. “And you’re not the least bit sorry she made the choice for you, and that it’s Marilyn you’ve ended up with, not Crystal?” Maybe I
would
make a great psychiatrist.

“Hello? Did I miss something here? Is Marilyn the last woman on earth?”

“No … I just thought … with Crystal out of the picture, maybe …”

“Cut it out, Al. And don’t go putting ideas in Marilyn’s head, either. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said.

Elizabeth and Pamela both came over the next day to help me put on my bridesmaid’s dress and specially dyed shoes to match, and the string of fake pearls and the earrings.

“I’ll powder your back,” said Elizabeth after I’d put on the slip and strapless bra.

“Powder my
back
?” I said. “Why?”

“So it doesn’t shine,” she said. “Women are always supposed to powder themselves when they wear backless dresses so their skin doesn’t shine.”

I don’t know where Elizabeth gets this stuff. Her mother
looks
normal enough. “Elizabeth, tell me,” I said. “I really want to know. What’s wrong with a shiny back?”

Even Pamela had never heard that one.

“It shows she’s perspiring,” said Elizabeth.

“So?”

“So she’s sweating! Women aren’t supposed to sweat.”

I guessed it would be breathing, next.

“Elizabeth,
everyone
sweats. What do you suppose our bodies do when we play volleyball? Leak?”

“Well, in the olden days,” Elizabeth informed us, “they referred to it as ‘glowing.’ If a woman sweat, it meant she did manual labor, and if she did manual labor, she was no lady.”

“We’ve come a long way, baby!” said Pamela, and we laughed, even Elizabeth.

Nevertheless, my back was powdered, my fingernails
polished, my hair curled, my eyebrows plucked, my makeup applied, my panty hose untwisted, and finally the beautiful jade green gown was slipped over my head. I looked like Cinderella. Dad took a picture.