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"Maybe, but I doubt it," she said, but neither Mommy nor I could ever realize how prophetic her statement was.
It took me most of the remainder of the afternoon and much of the evening to make a dent in the pile of gifts I had received. I wanted to get my thank-you cards out as quickly as I could. Jefferson was rather cute, sitting beside me on the floor in the living room announcing each gift and who had given it. I had received some very expensive gifts which included clothing, jewelry, perfume and other toiletries, as well as things for my room.
When Mommy insisted Jefferson get ready for bed, I stopped but promised him I wouldn't continue until he could help me tomorrow after school. I was quite tired myself and retired to my room, mainly to await anxiously Gavin's promised phone call. My eyes fell on Aunt Fern's tightly wrapped gift. It was one I didn't want to open in front of Jefferson or anyone else for that matter, especially Daddy. But I couldn't help but be curious.
I opened it slowly and then casually turned the pages. Why was Aunt Fern so determined I read this story? I wondered, and recalled her final coy comment about chapter ten. I scanned the pages and discovered why. Of course, I had read and seen things more revealing, but somehow, maybe because it had come from Aunt Fern whom I had witnessed doing these sexual things, it all seemed that much more forbidden, and what they said about forbidden fruit would always be true. I couldn't take my eyes from the words describing the lovemaking. As I read on, I began to imagine myself and Gavin. I was so deeply involved in the chapter, I didn't hear the phone's first ring. When it rang a second time, I scooped it up quickly and slammed the book closed.
"Hi," Gavin said. Hearing his voice after imagining ourselves together made me blush with guilt. "Hi. How was your trip?" I asked quickly.
"Just as long. No, longer since I was going away from Cutler's Cove."
"Just Cutler's Cove?"
"And you," he said. "Things quiet down?" "Yes. Jefferson and I went through some of the pile of gifts. I got so many nice things."
"I bet."
"Tomorrow's our last day of school. Mommy's afraid of what Jefferson's report card will look like."
"Mine wasn't too good at his age either," Gavin said. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your party and, especially, our private dance."
"Me too," I said. "Thanks again for the wonderful gift."
We were both silent for a moment.
"I'll write you every day this week," I promised. He laughed. "I will."
"Great. Well, I'd better hang up. I can't wait to see you again," he said. "Sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite."
"Good night, Gavin." I held the phone in my hand for a long moment after he had cradled his receiver. It was as though mine still contained his voice, still promised the warmth it had brought. "Good night," I whispered into it again and then hung it up.
I looked down at the copy of Lady Chatterley s Lover and thought about Aunt Fern giving it to me. She didn't do it because she wanted me to learn about love and how it could be warm and wonderful; she wanted to tease me. She probably hoped I would become like her.
Well I would never become like her, I vowed. I took her present and shoved it into the rear of my closet. Someday I might read it again, I thought, but not as forbidden fruit, not as something evil from Aunt Fern.
I crawled into bed and closed my eyes and fell asleep dreaming of the upcoming summer and Gavin's return.
Jefferson wasn't as eager to get up the next morning, knowing we were going to school to get our end-of-the-year report cards. Mommy had to shake him out of bed and he tried to take forever to eat his breakfast. From the look on his face, I assumed his teacher had already indicated some of the bad things that would be put on his report card.
Unless there was some conflict with guests arriving or going, Julius took all of us to school in the hotel limousine. He always picked us up and brought us home.
As usual Richard and Melanie wore the same color, he in a jacket, slacks and tie and she in a dress. He was the only seventh grader who went to public school dressed so formally, but I couldn't imagine him dressing any other way. Today, the last day of class, he looked even more prim and proper with his hair brushed and slicked down neatly, his tie knotted even tighter, his shoes polished perfectly, and the handkerchief in his top pocket creased so sharply into a point, it looked like it could be used as a knife.
Today, Jefferson was unusually subdued when he finally crawled into the back seat with me and sat across from Richard and Melanie.
"Couldn't you be ready even on the last day?" Richard asked dryly.
"We've never been late for school, Richard," I replied just as dryly.
"Only because Julius drives faster. The school bus children always get there before we do," he added as if that were something terrible.
"And I never have enough time to talk to my friends before homeroom," Melanie added to bolster Richard's complaint.
"Well, today's the last day of the school year, so you won't have to put up with it again until next fall," I told her.
"Jefferson probably will still be in the same class." Richard said, a cruel smile on his face. Jefferson looked up sharply.
"No, I won't," he snapped.
