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“Hey, Gale.” Collin’s tone was softer. Sweet. Supremely disappointing to me. It appeared my pleasurable little popcorn moment was over, goddamn it. Why couldn’t these two WASPs just go for it and deliver the drama we all craved as chaotic human beings? Ah, well. I had better get used to it. That was the life I was signing up for, and while painfully dull, I knew it would be worth it in the end. I could no longer see what was happening. I had to hide elsewhere with Gale on the move, but I listened closely. I imagined she turned around to look at him, hope in her eyes, wondering if he had changed his mind.
“Yes, Collin?” Gale said his name, almost breathless.
“I’m going to ask Bea to marry me this weekend. I thought you should hear it from me first.”
Ears all the way up! Well done, Collin Case, my futurehusband. Way to stick the landing with the surprisingly understated final stake to her heart. A slow burn that truly paid off. A kindness in Gale’s direction, laced with poison, at least from her point of view. How I yearned to see the astonishment on her face. I wanted to scream at the news with unbridled enthusiasm. Naturally, I bit my lip and stayed put, but on the inside I was soaring. Flying high, just hours away from an unprecedented victory. Sweet relief, utter joy and rarer still, some well-deserved peace in my heart. I did it.
Ifuckingdid it!
Gale didn’t say anything in response to the information, leaving the scene to return to the guest room she shared with her employee. Hopefully whatever she paid “Luke Dunne” included intercourse of some kind because she’d be in dire need to shake off the embarrassment of the evening.
We didn’t see Gale or Luke for the rest of the weekend. Collin never told me what had gone on between the two of them that night. He said that Gale and her beau probably had other plans in town, butthat we’d all see each other back in the city soon enough. Collin did indeed propose to me that Sunday night. We were out on the lawn at the romantic restaurant of the Castle Hill Inn. Fellow diners applauded, genuine smiles across their faces; it’s always fun to see someone get engaged. The best champagne was sent to the table and popped with delight. The bubbles were crisp and festive. And the sparkler in that red velvet Cartier box was so enormous, so positively gargantuan, that the white diamond solitaire covered the entire area of my ring finger below the knuckle.
Well, Mother, I must have done somethingright.
DEAN
SAUSALITO, CALIFORNIA
MY BEDROOM ATDean’s house feels like it was given to me by mistake. I perch every night in an ivory canopy bed, the room itself taking up the whole of the turret, accessible only by a single winding staircase from the end of the hallway, away from the rest of the house, away from her, with views of the whole city and the Golden Gate Bridge from the bay window, stacked with fluffy pillows atop a built-in bookshelf of young adult books. AndThe Runaway Bunny, but I tuck it away, spine facing in, not out. I want to throw it out the window, but I can’t. She told me she loved it so I keep it for her sake.
I don’t understand how I can be so lucky, not that I would ever share such a thing out loud. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I’m already sad to leave and it isn’t even time to go yet.
I read constantly, anything I can get my hands on in the library at school, now that I’m in school again, but I let Dean read to me because he seems to enjoy it so much. He’ll read anything I ask him to, evenSweet Valley High, my latest discovery from a bygone era that makes me wish I had a twin of my own. Dean does their voices to make me laugh out loud and it works every time. Elizabeth’s is prim, Jessica’s is wild, both hilariously too deep because Dean is a grown man, enormous really, with puffy hair, big cheeks and a broad smile. Tall and wide. He could be mistaken for a football player even though he’s in tech finance or something; I don’t know the specifics of his work, that’s Mother’s job. To me, he’s an in-house comedian who’s nice to me and lives for getting our laughs. Even Mother laughs at Dean’s jokes and over-the-top theatrics, with this crazy snort I’ve never heard before, so I think it might be genuine. I don’t think Mother would snort otherwise; the behavior is unbecoming.
Maybe she really likes Dean, too. I don’t want to jinx that either, but everything is just better when Mother’s married.
The only thing Dean loves more than cracking jokes is eating rich food. Though he’s a self-proclaimed master of the grill, he doesn’t bother cooking much, since he has the private chef come in pretty regularly. Her name is Beth and she wears pearls and talks to Dean about the Giants. Sometimes she cooks for some of the players. Mother doesn’t cook. She eats like a little bird, tasting everything, only swallowing the smallest amounts of the decadence on the table, and I follow suit, mimicking her every bite, but I always want more. So much more.
“Go on then. Another scoop. Boys like a little meat on a girl’s bones,” Dean booms at me, and he winks at Beth the Chef to put a little more food on my plate. Mother clears her throat, objecting as passively as possible. “Come on, Denise, lighten up,” Dean says. “She’s still growing. You don’t want to give her a complex.”
Dean has just told Mother to lighten up and I slink down in mychair, making myself smaller, excited to see what might happen next. The look on Mother’s face can’t possibly match how she feels inside. She pretends to take it in stride, forcing a thin-lipped smile in Dean’s direction as he chews with a grin of his own, completely unaware of who he married. I’m jealous of how Dean can be himself around Mother. While he still can, anyway.
“But she’s not that hungry.” Mother makes her stance known once more.
She’s talking to Dean, but the message is for me.
I am actually starving, but my body’s used to it by now. Dean doesn’t see that I already have the complex in question, by virtue of being her daughter.
“Oh, knock it off.” Dean chuckles. “There’s truffle in this. Get your money’s worth, kid.” Dean winks at me and I want to please him, so I take a few more luxurious bites of Beth’s truffled potatoes. I don’t even know what truffle is, but I like it.
Mother grimaces at the sight.
“Attagirl, Dani,” Dean praises me.
•••
“DON’T DO THATagain. You’ll get as big as a house and then what? We’re a team, aren’t we? Or must I do everything myself forever?” Mother calls to me later, watching me head down the hallway to my winding staircase. She’s never said anything to me like that before and I feel my cheeks get really hot. I don’t dare say anything back. I wish Dean heard it, but he’s in his office. I imagine him scolding her like he did at dinner. So free to speak his mind in front of Mother. He stands up for me. Like he wants to protect me.
It makes me want to protect him, too.
•••
DEAN’S FUN ANDhe likes to go out on the weekends, “go on adventures” he calls it and, when appropriate, he insists on taking me with the two of them all over the Bay Area. I’m sure he adores having Mother on his arm, to show her off, but I believe he’s just as tickled to be in my company, too. I can tell that he likes that I’m precocious, in the same way that my teachers seem to appreciate it, using that word specifically.
I’m a novelty to them and I don’t mind the role.
“You’re a real hoot, Danielle,” Dean says. “I get a kick out of you.” He sings the last part because, well, he’s Dean. “Get two scoops of the chocolate,” he urges me at the ice cream parlor. “It’s the best. You’re still a kid, you know,” he reminds me. “Enjoy yourself.” He grins, but I shake my head at him politely. Mother waits outside to see what decision I’ll make without her physically looking over my shoulder, but it doesn’t matter where she is because she’s always in my head. Yes, I want the chocolate ice cream with hot fudge and rainbow sprinkles, like a normal girl, but I want Mother’s approval more. I want her to want me on her team.
