A Mother to Embarrass Me (5 page)

“And that little boy whose parents just put in the tennis courts?”

“Yeah, I guess so. That's Kevin.” But he definitely is not a little boy. In fact, he is tall and skinny and has huge feet, something I couldn't help noticing in math class.

“The Cummingses are such good people,” Mom said. So now she was giving her stamp of
approval, was she? Suddenly I wished all my friends were people my mother wouldn't nod in acceptance over. Too bad at thirteen Kevin couldn't grow a long beard. That would make my mom hesitate before inviting him to my first boy-girl party.

I squinted and took in a deep breath. Beard for Kevin. Dreadlocks for Mary. Tattoo for Christian. Who else did Mom want to invite?

“Well, honey. Do you have any ideas?”

“You're doing fine,” I said. And she was, too. But
I
wanted to do it.

“How about six and six?”

“Six and six what?”

“Boys and girls.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I looked around Mom's office, pretending this was okay. Her statues were everywhere, decorating shelves, standing in corners, near the edge of her desk. Mom was a wonderful sculptor. That's what Gary Price had said. He's a really famous guy. He'd called Mom “up-and-coming” and said he thought she had a lot of natural talent.

I like Mom's stuff too, but today it was getting on my nerves. It was… I don't know, too goody-goody. I mean, everything in the room had something to do with family: a man and a woman near an empty cradle, a pregnant woman with a sweater draped over her shoulders, a butterfly sitting on a flower with a little girl kneeling nearby.

Everything matched what Mom felt was important.
Especially
the statue she was working on now.

You know what sculpture you should work on instead, Mom?
I thought.
The one of the mother making the party list for her daughter.
I wrinkled my forehead and looked down at my nails, which Mary's sister Karen had painted and even put decals on.

“Laura,” Mom said. “Laura, what is the matter with you? I am trying to make this easier for you. A girl's first party—”

“Mom,” I said, and the voice I used was not nice at all, but I couldn't stop it. “Mom, this is your party. Yours! You are inviting who you think I should have over here.”

Mom's mouth dropped open a bit and her face looked a little like I'd just punched her in the gut. “I…”

“I thought this was going to be
my
party. I thought… what I thought was that
I'd
be able to work it out with Mary, that she and
I
could come up with people. But just like everything else in my life, you have taken over.” This part wasn't the truth, and I was a little surprised when my mouth said it. But I didn't stop. In fact, I jumped to my feet and as I ran from Mom's office I shouted, “Just call me when you've taken care of the guest list.”

I ran out the front door, slamming it behind
me. Taking the stairs two at a time, I started for Mary's house, not even looking back when Mom called my name.

“Let her do the party,” I said as I ran. “Let her choose who she wants to come.” I could see my list in my head. This had to be added to it.

I ran the two blocks to my best friend's house, only to get there in time to see her leaving with her family.

“I'll be back in a couple of hours, Laura,” Mary called out her rolled-down window. “We're going to the mall.” For a moment I thought I might run after her. I didn't. Instead, I waved to her until their gray van was gone.

And then I thought I was going to start crying. Standing there near my best friend's house, I felt tears well up in my eyes, tears that seemed hotter than the summer air. “Come back,” I said.

A door slammed over at the Sumsions' house and Quinn walked outside. His hair was wet and smoothed down. My stomach lurched when I saw him. “You are the cutest guy I've ever seen in all my life,” I said, my voice lower than a whisper.

“Hey, Laura,” he called. He lifted his hand in a partial wave and smiled.

I sucked air in through my teeth and, without
meaning to, made a hissing noise. “Hi, Quinn.” My tears dried right up.

“Coming to play ball?”

Was he asking me? I looked around. I was alone.

I shrugged and walked toward him, passing the houses that separated us. “I'm planning a party,” I said. “My first boy-girl party.”

“Is that right?” Quinn looked over his shoulder, back toward the door.

“Yeah,” I said. “Wanna come?” What? What had my mouth just done? I was close enough that I could see his eyes get bigger.

“To your party?” Quinn asked, and his voice was full of surprise. “You're inviting me to your party?”

My face seemed to freeze up. I gave a sort of nod.

Right at that moment the side door of Quinn's house opened and out walked Christian and the most beautiful girl this side of my mother. She had dark hair that fell to her waist, and eyes so blue that even from where I stood I could see them. Her makeup was perfect, her body was perfect, even her nails were perfect. I hated her right away. If I was lucky, she'd have a voice like Mickey Mouse's.

“Quinn,” she said. Her voice was deep and smooth. “You ready to go?”

“Wait, Rebecca,” Quinn said. “Laura here has invited…”

“Don't,” I said, my voice soft. The sun seemed hotter than usual. It felt like it shone only on me, like I was in a spotlight.

“… me to her first boy-girl party. Are you jealous?”

For one moment I had been so happy to see Quinn that I didn't think anything could destroy it. I was, of course, wrong. This girl was with him. They were like perfect bookends or bronzes my mother might sculpt. And was Quinn making fun of me? Hot sun. Hot. Hot. Hot.

“A party?” Rebecca leaned toward me and I waited for biting words. But that didn't happen. She smiled. Quinn smiled too. “I love parties. And I remember my first one, too. It was so much fun.”

Christian moved over near me and I tried not to look at him. I was so embarrassed even my lips felt cooked.

“I just thought—” I started, but Quinn cut me off.

“Hey,” he said. He scooped Rebecca up in his arms. “I don't remember being invited to that.”

She tilted her head and said, “I left you out on purpose, Quinn.”

He pretended a pout, then turned to me.

“Thanks for the invite, Laura, but I don't think
we can make it. Ask Christian in my place. And the two of you, no kissing. You know Mom's rule.” With that he planted a smacky kiss on Rebecca's lips. “Let's get going,” he said.

And they did.

I stood in the burning sun next to Christian without moving until he said, “Um, Laura. A party? Really?” He kicked at the sidewalk, then went over and got the basketball.

I was too embarrassed to look at him, so instead I stared at the hoop that was there at the edge of the driveway. “Yeah,” I said.

I heard the ball bounce three times.

Strike me dead
, I thought.
God, strike me dead right now.

We were silent a moment.

“Let's play some,” Christian said.

“Sure.”

Christian tossed me the ball, but for a moment I wasn't quite sure what to do.

“Hey. Did you just want Quinn, or am I invited too?” Christian asked. A bird twittered in a pine.

A bit of relief washed over me. “Yeah, I want you to be there,” I said. I looked over his shoulder 'cause I couldn't quite look him in the eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

And at that moment I really,
really
meant it.

A note waited for me on my bed when I came home. It was short and simple.

I stood still, holding the slip of paper like it was made of gold. I read it five times to make sure it said what I thought it said. “Please let me know what day you want the party.” It didn't say, “Who are you inviting?” or “What is the list of food?” or anything like that. She was letting me be in charge. Me.
I was the boss of my party.

My hands started trembling and I ran to the phone. Mary could help me plan it and… I wanted to let out a shout of excitement. Instead I called my best friend and we spent the next two hours making plans.

Four days later I waited at the door, so nervous I thought I was going to puke. Mary and I had decorated the game room, and now the lights were low and dance music filled the air. Our Ping-Pong table was covered with all different kinds of food, drinks and desserts.

Mary had been with me all morning, and now she peeked from Mom's office window with me, watching the driveway for people to show up. The lights were out in here. I mean, I didn't want people to see us looking so eager. That would be embarrassing.

Christian was the first to arrive. He and Spencer Miller.

“I love Spencer,” Mary said, and she squeezed my hand so hard it hurt.

Seeing Christian embarrassed me a little. I mean, I had made a fool of myself in front of him with his brother. The thought of Quinn with Rebecca made my heart ache. The thought of Christian trying to rescue me made my face warm. What in the world was the matter with me? All I ever did was feel embarrassed or angry
or frustrated. But there was no time to think about that now.

The bell rang, and Mary and I took our time walking the few feet to open the front door.

“Hey, you guys,” I said. “We're down in the game room. Mary will show you the way.” I felt a little like a hostess for something really important. And I guess I was, too. My first boy-girl party.

Mary, Christian and Spencer had barely left the room when Mom and Dad came in.

“Laura,” Mom said. She held her hands up like a shield, like maybe I was going to say something and she needed to stop me in advance. “I'm not trying to intrude.”

“What?” I rolled my eyes. I wasn't angry with her, not like I had been; I was too excited about the party for that. But I didn't want her to think I wanted her to hang around. No, things were good now, with Mom leaving me alone. I liked it this way and I wanted to keep it this way.

Mom saw my face, saw that I was unhappy with her, and avoided my eyes.

“I was just thinking,” she said. “I was just thinking that your dad and I would stay up here and usher people down for you. Then you could make sure things are going well with the party.”

My heart softened a half-inch. But I didn't let it show. Instead I paused, pretended to think about her suggestion and then said, “Oh, all
right.” I let out a sigh and started off to the game room, glad to be where the party would happen.

The thing is, even after everyone got there, the party didn't really get going. The guys kind of stood on one side of the room, and we girls stood on the other. I could hear Christian telling all the guys about Quinn and basketball. In slow motion I worked my way to that side of the room. Would he tell all these guys about how I had asked his twenty-something-year-old brother to come to my twelve-year-old party?

“Hey, Laura,” Christian said.

“Oops,” I said. I hurried back to my side of the room. I would not make a good detective, I decided as I got close to Mary.

After a little bit I suggested we eat, and for a moment the twelve of us mingled, at least in the food line. Then back to our separate sides of the room again.

“Now what?” I asked Mary.

She stood close to me, watching the guys, her shoulder touching mine. “We could dance, Laura,” she said in a loud voice. She looked straight at Spencer, who was drinking punch, when she said this.

“Dance?” I said.

And then Dad showed up.

“Halftime entertainment,” he said, coming into the room in the ugliest clothes I have ever seen in my life. A pair of blue jeans with silver
tacking going down the sides and a shiny purple shirt, both a little too small. I knew they were things he had been saving since he dated Mom, I could tell by looking at them. These were '80s clothes and I bet they scared everyone in the room. I know they scared me.

Dad had a CD in his hand, and as he came in he said, “We kind of noticed that things weren't cooking in here….”

Cooking?

“So, Laura, if we have your permission, your mom and I thought we'd do a few dance steps from our day and age.”

I shook my head. “No, Dad,” I said.

Everyone looked at me. Was I as wide-eyed as my friends were? “Better not,” I said.

There was a bit of an awkward silence, and then Christian said, “Sure, Mr. Stephan. We'd love to see you two dance.”

Dad didn't wait a second longer. Instead he threw back his head and hollered out, “No parking on the dance floor, baby!”

What? Discomfort washed over me like a hot liquid.

Mom came in then, dressed in clothes I think she wore when she was pregnant with me.

“Uh, wait,” I managed to say. I lifted a hand.