The Orange Blossom Special (32 page)

Hedda came from a wealthy suburb in Chicago, Lake Forest. The youngest of two, she had an older sister who was a beauty and parents who mistook her tentativeness for vapidity. Her straight brown bangs covered as much of her pale face as possible; the rest, she tried to hide behind her hands. She had an apologetic slouch and a baby whisper voice. When she spoke up in class, which was rarely, she never took her eyes off the floor. But Hedda was smart. She was the kind of unassuming girl that is wildly successful twenty years after graduation, yet none of her classmates ever remember her. But she was completely devoted to Dinah.

Dinah recognized that in this relationship, she was the brazen and
outgoing one and Hedda was the one always following behind. It emboldened her to play Crystal to Hedda's Dinah. She hadn't bothered to tell Hedda that Crystal was another reason she didn't want to contact Charlie. Like her brother, Crystal had gone away. Dinah doubted that Crystal ever gave her a second thought. Many times over the past years, Dinah had written letters to Crystal and to Charlie, and inevitably, after reassuring herself that they sounded friendly and not too lonely, she'd rip them up.

Dinah had trained herself to push away sad memories. When she was younger, she would do it by counting the steps between school and home or the minutes until she could get into bed. Now, alphabetizing her books and arranging her books according to color gave her the same comfort. She thought about what Hedda had said: “You're not who you were then, and neither is he.” It reminded her of when Barone called, just before she broke up with Charlie, and how she babbled over the phone to him. Good ol' Señor Swanky, he always took her seriously. “Everything is changing,” he had told her. “But you'll always be somebody's daughter. That will never change.”

Later that night she called Tessie. “Do you want a date for dinner tomorrow tonight?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Tessie, trying to keep the gratitude out of her voice.

“I'm available.”

“Great. My place or yours? Oh, I guess they're both the same, aren't they?”

“That's funny, Mom,” Dinah said with a laugh. “See you tomorrow.”

Probably it was a reach to think that Dinah's laughter was a sign from Jerry, but after a month of not hearing from him, Tessie was hard pressed not to think so.

Tessie fussed over dinner. She bought some creamed spinach and cut up potatoes to make french fries. She made sure to cook the lamb chops the way Dinah liked them: crusty, brown, and flavorless. She
even bought syrup for Cherry Cokes. It felt ridiculous to be nervous about having your own daughter to dinner, but Tessie believed that how she heard the news about the baby the first time would color how she felt about it forever after.

The next night, Dinah walked the mile and a half to the other side of town where her mother lived. The sky was black and starless, and by the time she got there the light from her mother's kitchen shone like a yellow rectangle in the darkness. It reminded her of coming home late from school when they still lived in Carbondale. Seeing the lights from the house shining in the cold dark night and knowing that soon she'd be there too, warm and together with her family, gave her a feeling of safety then that she never thought she'd feel again.

Tessie stood waiting for her on the front porch. She wore a forgiving red muu muu over black pants “Hi sweetheart,” she said. “I'm so happy to see you.” As they walked through the door together, Dinah could smell the lamb chops and the creamed spinach cooking on the stove.

“Yeah,” said Dinah. “It's nice to be here.”

As they ate, Dinah told Tessie about school, about Hedda. They talked about what she might do when she graduated and how Gainesville had changed in the years since they'd been here.

“Do you think you'll want to move away from here when you graduate?” asked Tessie.

“It depends on who I end up marrying,” said Dinah.

Tessie did a doubletake. She had treaded so carefully around the subject of boys and dating, not wanting to pry. “Hmm, do you have anyone in mind?” she asked.

“No. Everyone I go out with turns out to be a jerk in some way. But can I ask you something? You know Charlie Landy's come home, right?”

“Yes. Victoria was just talking about him the other day. Seems he has real hearing problems. She says he barely speaks to anyone, is really down and moody.”

“I was thinking of paying him a visit. You know, just to say hello. Is that crazy?”

“No, it would be a very kind thing to do. I'd say, just what the doctor ordered.”

Buoyed by the intimacy of their conversation, Tessie felt now was as good a time as ever to bring up her little bit of news.

“Speaking of things that are crazy,” said Tessie, already wishing she could rephrase her opening sentence. “I have something to tell you.”

Dinah took another lamb chop and seemed distracted.

“Are you ready?” asked Tessie, trying to get her attention.

“Yeah, sure. What is it?”

“Well, I might as well just say what it is. I'm pregnant.”

Dinah put down her chop and stared at Tessie. “That's a joke, right?”

“Nope, I'm two months and then some pregnant.”

“Mom, aren't you the one who's supposed to be telling me not to get knocked up and not the other way around?”

“Do you go around saying things like ‘knocked up'?”

“I may say it, but at least I don't do it!” said Dinah. “Are you going to keep it?”

“Why does everyone ask me that?” asked Tessie impatiently. “Yes, I'm going to keep it.”

“It's Señor Swanky's kid, isn't it?”

“Of course it's his. Do you think I just sleep around?”

“Why not,” shrugged Dinah. “You're just full of surprises. Are you going to marry him?”

“He wants to, but no, I don't think I will. He's got his life down
there and I'm here. You're here. Besides,” she said glancing at her Jerry Box, “I've already been married once, I don't need to do it again.”

They looked at each other as if each knew what the other was thinking.

“What do you think Daddy would say if he knew?” said Dinah.

“I've given that a lot of thought,” said Tessie. “I think he would say that we've both lived with the dead for so long that having a new life among us is a blessing. He'd also say that I'd better name it after him.”

“What if it's a girl? And what about Barone's dead wife, Fran? Won't he want to name it after her?”

“We haven't had that conversation yet,” said Tessie.

Dinah reminded her mother about the first time she met Barone. They were in the car on the way back from Eddie Fingers' funeral and he was sitting in the driver's seat muttering to himself, “A fine pickle, a fine pickle.”

“He always says that,” said Tessie. “Everything's ‘a fine pickle' to him.”

Tessie giggled then placed her finger over her mouth. It was the coquettish gesture, the side that was somebody's girlfriend that Dinah had never seen. It occurred to Dinah that she must be scared about this new baby, even though she was determined to go ahead with it by herself.

“You know, Mom, this baby thing could be fun,” she said, suddenly wanting to reassure her. “I'll help out with little Fran or Jerry or Ferry or whatever you call it.”

“It's nice that our little family is growing, isn't it?” said Tessie, lighting a cigarette. “Now if I can only figure out how to break the news to the Glenns.”

Dinah smiled at the realization that her mother worried about things the same way she did.

“What do you think I should say to Charlie?”

“About the baby?”

“No, you know, I haven't talked to him in all these years.”

Tessie took a long drag on her Marlboro. “You know that whatever you plan to say isn't what's going to come out anyhow. Besides, you and Charlie never had problems in the talking department.”

Dinah left her mother's house that night with too many thought fragments bobbing in her head. She grew up having imaginary conversations with people; a lifetime of being an only child necessitated that. Lately she'd been practicing what she'd say if she ever ran into Crystal. Sometimes, she would even conjure up things people said about her when she wasn't there. Dinah could get lost in her thoughts that way. So it was inevitable that by the time she actually went to see Charlie Landy, she'd scripted their conversation dozens of ways.

It was the week before Thanksgiving when she finally got the nerve to call. Ella answered the phone and seemed genuinely happy to hear from her. After some small talk, Dinah said, “I was wondering how Charlie was doing.”

“To tell the truth, I'm worried sick about him. He stays to himself. He barely talks to anyone, doesn't eat a thing. I've cooked all his favorite foods, and he just says to me, ‘Ella, let's take it slow. A little at a time.' I tell you, it's a hard thing to watch.”

Dinah could feel her heart squeeze. “I'd like to visit him. Unless you think it's a bad idea.”

“Miss Lockhart, if there is anything that can bring the sunshine back into that boy's eyes, you're it. When would you like to come?”

They arranged that she'd come to the house at three the following afternoon. It happened that Reggie was taking inventory at the store and Victoria was home. When Dinah rang the bell, it was Victoria who answered. She hadn't counted on the lioness at the gate.

“As I live and breathe, it's Dinah Lockhart, daughter of the blessed virgin Tessie Lockhart.” Victoria sure knew how to crack herself up. Dinah suddenly remembered why Crystal chose to live with her and Tessie for all those years. When she finally stopped laughing long enough to invite Dinah inside, she gave her the once-over. “You have turned into one pretty thing. Mia Farrow. That's who you look like, Mia Farrow with a little fat on her bones. You sure as hell are not here to see me, are you? The warrior is in his room. Have a seat, I'll tell him you're here.”

One of the virtues of Victoria Landy was that you never had to worry about what to say to her: more than likely, she'd have the whole conversation for you. Dinah wondered, as she had so many times in the past, how Crystal and Charlie managed to be pretty normal, despite their mother. She noticed that the living room had been newly decorated in the current mod style, and thought about how the saloon business must be booming. How should she talk to someone with a severe hearing impairment. Should she yell or exaggerate the way she moved her lips? Before she could figure it out, she heard the sound of Charlie's footsteps. They were lighter now. “Hello Dinah,” he said, standing before her. “It's really nice to see you again.”

It made Dinah sad, the way he smiled apologetically.

“Hi Charlie, it's so good to see you, too.”

The conversation might have frozen there had it not been for Victoria, who was bouncing around the living room like a moth off a lamp. “You two need to get the hell out of here and go off by yourselves. Charlie honey, take the car,” she said shoving the keys into his hand. “Reg will be back with the other one soon enough.”

They were barely out the front door when Charlie broke into a smile. “Don't ask me what the ‘Reg' business is all about, I have no idea. My mother, what a piece of work!”

“Well at least your mother isn't about to start a serious relationship with ‘Captain Kangaroo'!” said Dinah. “Can you imagine?”

They stood in front of the car: Victoria's behemoth Oldsmobile 88. Something passed across Charlie's face as he handed the keys to Dinah. “Will you please drive? That way, I can watch your face and understand what you're saying.” Dinah took the keys and pretended that it was no big deal. “Sure thing, I'd love to drive this little beauty.” But it broke her heart to think that if Charlie were the old Charlie, he'd hear the catch of sadness in her voice.

It would have been natural for them to go to the lake but neither of them mentioned it. “If you don't mind, I'd like to just drive around,” said Charlie. “So much has changed, I'm still getting used to it.”

They drove in silence until Dinah said, “It's true, everything is different than when you were here last. Does it feel different?” He studied her face, squinting to read her lips.

“You have no idea. I feel as if I left the world altogether.”

“Where did you go?” she asked, wondering if articulating her words so carefully would ever feel normal.

“I don't know,” he said. “I could never see it. All I saw was mud and vines and the jungle, and I knew if I ever stood still too long, it would grow around me and in me and eventually strangle me.”

“Do I take that to mean you're glad to be back?” asked Dinah, as they drove by the new mall at the edge of town. She could tell he missed that completely. She spoke louder: “Oh, look in there, there's this gigantic fountain in there shaped like a seahorse. It's what Crystal and I would have called the Nausea Seahorse Fountain, it's so ugly.”

Charlie understood that she was trying to lighten up the mood.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't mean to be melodramatic. You're the first person I've spoken to about any of it.”

“It's hard, isn't it?”

Charlie shook his head. “My mother, even Ella, they just stare at me waiting for me to say something. They mean well. Ella's cooking everything I've ever said I liked. Even my mother, in her own imbecilic way, is trying to be nice. The other day she offered to take me shopping now that I have—and these are her words—a new physique.”

“What would you like them, us, to do?”

“Time. I need time. Don't expect me to come home and be me right away. Eight weeks ago, I was there. Then, like in some science fiction comic, there's this great KABOOM! My body flies through the air, and the next thing I know it's three years later and I'm sitting in my mother's car with my old girlfriend. I've got a lot of catching up to do.”