Into the Woods (28 page)

Maijorie looked at Sonya Wilhelm and smiled. "Maybe," she said, and the whole table laughed. What was so funny?
"I don't get it," I said.
Just at that moment. Sandy Marko, a boy in my math class, asked if I'd like to dance. He looked as if he had been threatened with being bailed in oil if he didn't. My moment of hesitation filled his eyes with hope I would say no. Was
I
so undesirable?
"Yes, I would,"
I
said, and he walked toward the dance floor like someone going to his own execution.
His eyes were everywhere but on me. He looked ner ous and afraid. The other students soon joined us, however, and we were all going at it, especially after the Renners upped the tempo. I saw Mommy looking very satisfied and sighed. Just do it, and try to look like you enjoy it, Grace, I told myself. For a few minutes I actually did. Even Sandy looked more relaxed. Maybe this would be a great party. After all. like Winston said, I didn't have to fall in love with anyone tonight, but that didn't mean I couldn't at least have some fun.
People were at the food tables. Wine was pouring like water. Mommy did look very beautiful and.
I
could set, was attracting the interest of a number of husbands. She was getting what she wanted.
I
thought. She was finding acceptance. Even Winston looked happier than I had seen him at any affair we had all attended previously. I started to sigh with relief when
I
noticed the kids around me had stopped dancing, even though the music continued. They were all turning toward the stairway down from the rear loggia, and none of them was speaking.
Sandy stopped dancing, too, and turned.
I
stepped around Bronson Simmons and looked.
There was Basil Furness wearing a bright blue blazer and a pair of white pants.
"He doesn't even know what season it is," Vanessa Waterman said, and others laughed.
The pause in activity drew the attention of more and more of the adults. Slowly, like a ripple across a lake, the pregnant silence traveled to be born in an audible gasp from Mommy's throat. She turned and looked at me. I shook my head. I had no idea why he was here.
He stepped down and immediately helped himself to a barbecued prawn. Slowly the silence was filled with chatter again.
"I
knew all your guests hadn't arrived." Marjorie said, and those around her laughed. "Aren't you going to ask him to dance?"
I looked from her to Basil and then at Mommy. who was walking toward me.
"What did you do?"
I
asked Marjorie.
"
Moi
? What could
I
have done?" she retorted, and they all went back to dancing while they kept an eye on Mommy and me.
"You went and invited that boy after what I told you," she began.
"I didn't. Mommy."
"Well, why would he be here? You'd better go find out immediately. Grace. Go," she ordered sharply. I winced and hurried toward Basil.
"Quite a little house party." he said before
I
could utter a word. "I wasn't going to come and decided at the last minute that I was hungry."
"You weren't invited." I said. amazed.
He raised his eyebrows and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Really? What, did your social secretary make a mistake?" he asked, and drew an invitation out of his jacket pocket. He handed it to me. and I looked at it.
It was obviously a reproduction.
I turned and looked back at the girls around Marjorie. They were all watching us and smiling.
It was someone's idea of a big joke. Basil." I said. "I'm sorry."
"Oh." he said. "I get it."
"You don't have to leave," I said.
"No." he said. "You've got it wrong. I don't have to stay."
He turned and walked back up the steps and through the rear loggia,
And
I
felt my heart had become a yo-yo on a string that had just broken.
Na matter how well the party went afterward. Mommy was deflated.
I
could see her growing more and more paranoid over every group that gathered and spoke quietly. In her mind, those who might have had a legitimate reason to leave early were leaving because of the Basil incident, and nothing I or Winston could have said would change that interpretation.
After what they had done
I
couldn't make myself available to say good night to the students invited and thank them for corning. There were those who did look ashamed and embarrassed at what Marjorie and the others had concocted, but it was all too little and too late. Someone could have had the decency to warn me. I thought, but no one had.
I'll always be an outsider here.
I went up to my room before the last of the guests left. I could hear the band packing up, and scan the noise and the voices died away. By the time Mommy and Winston retired for the evening. I was already in bed, dozing off. I heard her walk down the corridor and waited to see if she was going to stop by. A few moments later the door was opened slowly, and she peeked in. I kept my eyes closed. It was painful for me to ignore her. but I didn't want to talk about the party and its purpose any more this night.
She closed the door softly, and all was dark and quiet. "Welcome to Palm Beach, Mommy," I whispered.

15
A Man Like Winston Montgomery
.
"I guess what those kids did was as cruel to that

boy as it was to us," Mommy admitted the fallowing morning at brunch. After so late a night none of us rose early enough to have breakfast. I had given Mommy the obviously duplicated party invitation Basil had received, and now there wasn't going to be much of an excited party review, despite the high marks the Carriage sisters gave Mommy on her arrangements, most of which they had had a hand in.

What the incident with Basil did do was put an end to Mommy's trying to get me accepted into the socalled Palm Beach in crowd represented by the privileged students at EJW. She now agreed with Winston that I should be left to find my own way at the school, find my own friends, my own
relationships. I had even less interest in doing that at EJW than
I
previously had. Instead
I
bore down on my schoolwork, became a confirmed loner, and spent my weekends doing more and more with Winston or with Winston and Mommy.

Winston did try to get me into a younger social scene, making sure
I
attended whatever charity events or affairs were sponsored or frequented by a younger crowd. He even went so far as to arrange for me to go yachting with the son of a friend of his who was visiting from Germany. Joachim Walter, He was a nice enough young man, soft-spoken and goodlooking, but there was no spark between us, and after a pleasant day we parted company forever. Both of us knew it would be that way, and neither of us showed any regret.

Winston and I continued our sailing lessons every possible weekend until he declared I was capable of taking the boat out myself any time I wished. I knew both he and Mommy were hoping
I
would invite someone, preferably a nice young man, to join me.
I
did sail as often as I could but never with anyone else along. I truly began to enjoy my solitude. It was comfortable and safe, even though
I
knew it wasn't something Mommy enjoyed seeing. One evening after dinner I overheard her complaining to Winston about me. Maybe she wanted me to overhear.

"She's becoming so introverted," she told him. "It frightens me,"
Winston tried to make it seem like nothing, "When she's ready she'll indulge in everything young people her age indulge in. Jackie. You'll see." he promised. "Give her time. There have been so many dramatic changes in her life."
Nevertheless
a
pall crept in and over our otherwise perfect existence at Jaya del Mar. I could see it in Mommy's worried frown when
I
returned from school and went directly up to my room or out to the beach to walk alone. On the other hand, she continued to socialize as much as she could or, more accurately, to participate in as much as she was invited to participate in. The novelty of being Winston Montgomery's new wife began to show tarnish. Every once in a while she would discover she had been left out of some event or another, and even if it was just a so-called power lunch during which a group of Palm Beach women would plan some major event, she was emotionally wounded. She would moan and complain about how hard it was to make friends with some of these people in Palm Beach, haw unfair the other women could be.
Poor Winston bore the brunt of it all on his narrow shoulders. He was always trying to find things for me to do, places for me to go, and he was continually providing excuses or explanations for one social snub or another to soothe Mommy's often bruised new ego. When summer came and we were going off to spend time abroad at the villa he and Mommy had discovered during their honeymoon.
I
felt as if we were truly in retreat.
The villa was as beautiful as the pictures and descriptions had suggested. We had a pool almost as big as the one in Palm Beach. Mommy, Winston. and
I
spent a great deal of time visiting famous coastal places like Cannes. Nice. and Saint-Tropez, as well as inland villages like Saint-Paul-de-Vence and even took a week in Paris so Mommy could see the newest fashions. We ate at the top of the Eiffel Tower and looked out over Paris at night, fully understanding why
it
was called the City of Lights. While Mommy slept late Winston took me to the Louvre Museum and then on to Notre Dame. In the afternoon we took Mommy to a Left Bank cafe for lunch, and at night we went to Montmartre for dinner, and both Mommy and I had our portraits done by street artists. Before we left Paris to return to our villa we went to see the palace at Versailles.
The summer seemed to fly by because of all our traveling and activity.
I
was actually unhappy about returning home. On the airplane Winston and I talked about my future, and he agreed with my idea to seek early graduation and perhaps start at one of the nearby junior colleges this year. He told Mommy
I
might just be too mature for the students at EJW, and it was probably
a
good idea to jump-start my higher education. She didn't object to anything She had settled comfortably in an attitude of
que Sera, sera.
"Whatever's best for her," was her standard reply to anything Winston and I discussed and decided about my activities or my future these days. Having a new and what
I
thought smarter objective to my education helped me return with a better attitude to ETW for my senior year. which
I
expected would be an abbreviated one. I was more relaxed, and as a result I even didn't mind sitting and listening to the others brag about their wonderful summers, Now I could interject stories of my own if I liked. I didn't really. I quickly settled into my separate world again, did my work and my additional home study, and took my high school diploma examinations when I had planned.
Mommy, Winston. and
I
celebrated my excellent results by taking a weekend in Bermuda. where Winston and
I
did some sailing and even talked Mommy into coming along for an hour or so. Winston and I had been visiting some area junior colleges, and we had settled on one in Jupiter Beach.
I
registered for the spring semester and, just like that, found myself studying and associating with older students, most of whom were not from super-wealthy Palm Beach families,
I liked my philosophy professor the most and even recognized that
I
was developing a heavy crush an him. His name was Dr. Berger, He was married and had two young children, whose pictures were on his desk. His son had his flaxen gold hair and his perfect nose and strong mouth. His daughter, two years younger, looked more like his wife, who I had to admit was very attractive. I took advantage of every opportunity I had to be alone with Dr. Berger, even if it was merely to discuss some philosopher.
I
even went so far as to pretend not to understand things just to justify a tutorial. He wasn't mechanical or cold, but he was very careful about how personal he was with his students. Rarely did he inquire about anything in my private life and always kept his greetings in the corridors or in class to a quick, soft smile or a nod and a simple "Hello."
It was almost as if he recognized his own vulnerability around so many attractive and flirtatious female students, not that I was ever obvious about how I felt. At least not that I knew of. I had to admit to myself that
I
wasn't looking into any mirror or seeing myself as others might. and I could very well be coming off as a lovesick teenager.
I knew that Mommy, despite her apparent aloofness, expected
I
would soon announce
a
date or some social relationship. She looked for it almost every day I returned from college and even began asking me in not so subtle terms about the boys at the school. Maybe my fixation on Dr. Berger kept me from returning interested looks coming my way or encouraging conversations with the male students. Most of them seemed so immature to me.
I
guess I had an impatient and steely mariner about me that put them off. but I didn't seem to care, and that began to build as a sour note in Mommy's increasingly strident tone whenever she talked to me about my school life and how I was missing out on all the fun.
Winston desperately tried to keep the static out of our lives. finding something new for him and me to do every weekend. Except for my fantasizing about Dr. Berger. I didn't enjoy being with anyone more than I enjoyed being with Winston. One night, when Winston revealed he had tickets to an upcoming concert at the West Palm Beach Auditorium. Mommy finally exploded.
"You've got to stop being her social director. Winston!" she cried.
"Excuse me?"
During all the time they had been married I had never witnessed truly hard words between them. Winston seemed incapable of losing his temper with her, no matter what she did or said. He would just shake his head and move aside or bend with the hard. heavy winds of potential conflict.
"You're part of the reason she doesn't socialize with people her own age. Winston. Every weekend practically you have something for her to do with you or with me. How is any young man expected to compete or attract her interest? What does he have to do, book her two months in advance?"
He looked at me. and I looked down at the dish in front of me.
"I
was just trying..."
"I
know you're trying. but stop trying!" she cried. and reached out to seize the tickets from his hand.
I
looked up as she tore them into pieces. "No more. If she doesn't find things to do, young people with whom to socialize, let her sit at home. We don't do half the things we should be doing on weekends because you're so worried she'll be bored going to them or she won't have anything to do."
"I
would expect that to be your concern as well. Jackie, even more so." he shot back, his face finally turning somewhat crimson.
Mommy sighed so deeply
I
thought her heart would shatter in her chest.
"It
has been. Winston. but I'm tired of it. I don't sleep at night thinking about her... her damn retreat from what should be the most exciting time in her life. It was for me and for just about any other woman I know."
I looked up at her. my eyes so glassed over with tears I could barely see the tightness in her lips and the frustration in her eyes.
"I'm a freak. Mommy,"
I
cried. "I'm just a freak, is that it?"
"Of course not. but Daddy Winston." she said out of the right corner of her mouth. "isn't helping you doing the things he's doing. I don't know what will help you anymore," she added before Winston could offer a defense. "I buy you everything to make you attractive and keep you up with the latest styles. I arranged for you to have the best hairdressers, the best cosmeticians. We've bought you a beautiful new car. You have all this to share with anyone you like: a private beach, a magnificent swimming pool, a sailboat," she said, waving at the house and the grounds. "And what do you do, you sit in your room
and
read or take long walks alone on the beach or go sailing far hours and hours by yourself!
"How can you enjoy being by yourself so much. Grace?" she asked with a pinched, pained expression.
"Maybe I'm a multiple personality,"
I
cried through my tears. "and I'm not alone."
"What?"
I jumped up and ran out of the dining roam and up to my suite where I buried my face in my pillow to smother my tears and sobs. Although their voices were quite muffled. I could hear
Winston and Mommy having their first hard, loud argument below. Soon afterward I heard Mommy crying and her footsteps on the stairway. A. door slammed, and then all was quiet.
I turned over and looked up at the ceiling. Was I
a
freak? Was there something wrong with me? Shouldn't I want a boyfriend, someone to be with, more than
I
did? Did I place too much emphasis on school and not enough on a social life? Maybe
I
should have been more like the girls at E.TW after all or been more like Phoebe Tremont.
I
should learn how to niggle more, roll my eyes, turn my shoulders, and stop showing up the boys in my classes. Maybe I should stop fighting what I had come to think of as the Love Game.
Winston didn't come to my room afterward, and neither did Mommy. All of us withdrew to our own private cocoons and the next day tried to pretend none of it had happened. Winston retreated from me somewhat over the next few months and didn't suggest any social activity. He and Mommy returned to a more normal Palm Beach social life, relying mostly on his contacts now. I went sailing only once and then, almost like someone agreeing to take castor oil, encouraged and accepted an invitation to go to dinner with a boy
at
the junior college. Charlie Packard.
In her eyes I could see that Mommy couldn't have designed a better first college date for me. Charlie had light brown hair and Wedgwood blue eyes and was
a
firm, six-foot-two-inch young man who happened to be one of the school's basketball stars. I had helped him with a research paper in English. I really didn't think he had any other interest in me even though I was warm and maybe somewhat overly friendly. Even so. I was surprised when he asked me on a date. Just from casual observance of the social scene on campus. I knew he had dated a few other girls. I assumed his failure to develop a longterm relationship with any of them meant he was looking for someone more substantial. As it turned out my assumption was drawn from my well of innocence, inexperience, and expectations that were far too high.
Mommy practically fell over herself welcoming him when he came to pick me up. He wasn't from a family anywhere nearly as wealthy as we were. I could see the look of surprise and astonishment in his eves. Confronted with such affluence, he looked at me through different eyes. I could practically hear his questions forming and anticipated each one.
"How come you're going to this junior college and not one of those fancy ones up north or
something?"
"I chose it because it had the programs I wanted and it was close to my home," I told him.
He shook his head. 'How old are you really?"
He was happy to know I was over eighteen, but why, he wondered, wasn't I off studying in Paris or something? Why wasn't
I
going out with a prince or the son of a corporate giant? How come I was so modest at school?
"I'm
just me, Charlie," I told him.
"I
don't think I'm some sort of royalty."
I could see he was actually embarrassed by the choice of restaurant he had made for our dinner.
"I
guess this is like slumming for you. huh?"
"It's fine," I kept telling him. I even said I was tired of eating in stuffy places where you see the same people all the time. I could see he thought I was just trying to be nice. Finally I said. "Really. I'm no princess. Charlie. I'm actually a Navy brat." He didn't understand. so I gave him a quick summary of our lives, which seemed to relax him. After dinner he suggested we drop in on a house party one of the players on the school's team was having.
A number of students from school were there. I could see some surprised faces when I walked in with Charlie. It was a nice house with a good-size living room. but Charlie muttered that the whole house could fit in my living room. Before the night was over he would be telling everyone about me.
I
thought, and whatever anonymity
I
had enjoyed at school would soon be blown away.
Apparently there was an understanding between Charlie and his teammate that the upstairs guest bedroom was reserved for him and his date.
I
even heard his friend say. "Your room awaits." Everyone was drinking. In the kitchen some were snorting coke. Charlie used the scene as a reason for us to get somewhere private. "away from all this immature behavior." I couldn't have agreed more. but
I
wasn't so sure about fleeing to a strange bedroom.
I kept thinking about how disappointed Mommy was going to be if my date was
a
failure, so
I
went up with Charlie, and he sprawled out on the bed and began to talk about all the jerks downstairs and all the girls he knew who didn't have "the longterm view of things." I wasn't sure what he meant, but he kept assuring me I had it.
"You're not only very pretty," he said. "but you're very smart and a lot more mature." Mature seemed to be his catchall word for everyone and everything. "I would have sworn you were at least twenty."