It's All in Your Mind (19 page)

"See
... if we stick together, we'd have each other for company
and
live a luxurious life. Let's start kicking," Joel said. "Maybe we can propel ourselves over there!"

"We'd have to be back in time to mow lawns tomorrow morning."

Joel let out an exaggerated sigh. "There's always
something
."

After that, we just floated and watched the sky. Occasionally a seagull drifted overhead. One dove into the water and flew off with a fish. A wispy cloud rolled by. I said it looked like a giraffe. Joel thought it looked like a gnu.

"A gnu?"

"You're supposed to ask, 'What's a gnu?'"

"Okay," I said. "What's a gnu?"

"Nothing. Whatsa new with you?"

I groaned.

"Ouch!" Joel yelled.

"Ouch?"

"I just smacked into a rock!"

I turned my head to look. "Yikes! We floated all the way to the jetty." The jetty where Nolan and I always went to sit and, uh, snuggle. "It must be getting late. We'd better get going." I swam for shore.

"What's your hurry?" Joel asked he followed me out of the water, then trotted to catch up with me.

"Um … my folks will be wondering where I am," I said.

Joel pulled even with me. "
There's a pay phone at the pavilion. We could call and let them know we're running late. Hey, we could even eat here tonight. I could really go for a basket of those fried clams—"

"No!" I quickened my pace. "Um
... I .... Mama's already fixed dinner."

"Oh.
Okay," Joel said quietly.

When we reached the pavi
lion, we couldn't remember exactly where we'd stashed our clothes. I immediately panicked, running from pillar to pillar, peering under the boardwalk. "Our thing are gone! We've been robbed!"

"Take it easy," Joel said. "Let's think." He pointed to his left. "We came out of the bathrooms over there, walked down that ramp. Then we went to the right, not too far." He led me to the spot. "Ah, ha!" he exclaimed, looking down at the sand as he stuck one finger in the air. "Your wardrobe, milady."

"Thank goodness!" I grabbed my things and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Hey, Wild Bill, wait for me!" Joel ran after me. "It can't be all that late. Look where the sun is."

I pulled my watch out of my dungarees pocket. "I'll have you know it's ... oh. Five thirty-seven. Well. Still. We need to get going."

I guess we were worn out from work, because on the way home neither of us said much. Joel didn't sing, not even when Mack the Knife came on the radio, although he did snap his fingers in time to the music.

When we got to my house, Joel helped me unload the truck. I was glad Papa was not in the back yard. I really didn't want him inviting Joel in for dinner. Nothing against Joel, I was just tired. 

"Well, uh, see you tomorrow?" Joel's usually lively eyes looked tired.

"Bright and early," I said. "Mr. Parton's junipers are due for a trim, and he has lots of junipers."

A half smile crossed Joel's face. "See ya in the morning."

After supper I decided to call Caprice and see if we could get together and talk. I showered and changed into shorts and a sleeveless blouse. I just placed my hand on the receiver to call Caprice, when the phone rang. I hoped it wasn't Mrs. Kukk wanting me to babysit at the last minute. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe!"

"Nolan!" My breath caught in my throat. I heard music and loud voices in the background.

"I just wanted to say I miss you."

"Oh! I miss you, too!"

"Tell me about your day."

"My day? Um. I worked all day at the Redfern estate in Westfield. Then I, uh, went for a swim. To cool off."

"Lucky you, going for a swim," Nolan said. "It's hot here in
Providence."

I hear
d laughter in the background. "Tell me about your—"

"I gotta go. Things are starting to happen," Nolan said.

"When will I see you?"

"I don't know. I'll see you when I see you."

"Oh."

"Love ya, babe."

"Oh, Nolan, I love you too—"

The line went dead.

Nolan probably had to get ready for his performance. After all, he was the opening act.

Just as I was about to dial Caprice's number, the phone rang again. I picked up, hoping it was Nolan. "Hello!" I said eagerly.

"Hi, it's me. Caprice. I need to get away from here. Can you pick me up?"

"Sure. I was just about to call you. I'd like to, uh, talk."

"How about Van Horn's? We can grab a quiet booth in the back."

"Great. I'll be there in five minutes."

When I got to Caprice's house, cars lined the street and filled her driveway. The sound of bongo drums and jarring laughter pounded across the otherwise calm night air. Through the front window I saw people packed into the small living room, talking, eating, drinking, dancing. I was wondering where to park, when I spotted Caprice sitting on the front step. I pressed the car horn.

Caprice jumped straight up and hotfooted it to the car. The instant she landed in the front seat she said, "Get me out of here!"

As I pulled away, I nodded toward the house. "Special occasion?"

"Pfft. Yeah. Right. Oh, I'm sure my mother has some reason. 'It's Thursday. Let's celebrate!' Or, 'The sun sets two minutes earlier tonight than last night. Let's party!' Or maybe she met some guy who looked at her twice. My mother can find any excuse for a bash." Caprice fished around in her purse and pulled out a linty roll of Necco Wafers. "Want one?"

"Uh, no thanks."

"I've gotta have something in my mouth," Caprice said. "Before he left
for Vietnam, Karl asked me to please give up cigarettes. But my mother and her parties are enough to drive me back to smoking."

I uttered some sympathetic murmurings. Caprice had a lot of freedom.  I wondered if it was because her mother was so busy with her parties and her men friends that she just didn't notice whether Caprice was home or not.

Van Horn's was tucked into a narrow building on Post Office Square. The few parking spots on the street were full, so I pulled into the lot in back of the cluster of stores. There were a lot of kids in Van Horn's, bunched around the jukebox and pinball machine, sipping sodas at the small round tables up front, filling the stools at the soda fountain. I could see there was no one we knew, just summer people. So even if Caprice and I couldn't find a booth in the back, no one here would know or care about anything we said.

The first couple of booths were filled, but we found a small one in the corner that was empty and immediately grabbed it. As soon as we plopped ourselves down, the waitress, Millie, appeared. She was a short doughy woman in her forties. She smiled, handed us a couple of menus and set two glasses of water on the table. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order."

Caprice picked up her menu. "I am so starved. My mother may think pretzels, popcorn, chips and dips, and wine and beer are a meal, but I do not."

I loved Van Horn's milkshakes, so all I had to do was choose which kind I wanted. I decided on chocolate. While Caprice was oohing and aahing over every possible burger combo on the menu, I traced my finger around the squiggly black boomerang pattern on the pink tabletop

Millie returned, pulled an order pad from her apron pocket and a stubby pencil from behind her ear. I ordered my shake. Caprice ordered "a cheeseburger with ketchup, brown mustard, lettuce, onion, and tomato, a small salad with oil and vinegar, and a cherry Coke." After Millie left, she said, "I just wanted to escape the fun and games at home. You said you wanted to talk. So ... what do you want to talk about?"

"Oh
... nothing much." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Just ... love, life, guys."

"Is that all?" Caprice rested her chin on her hand. "Did you want a general discussion, or is there something specific?"

"Well ...." I thought about plunging into my entire history with Nolan, but that suddenly seemed too complicated, and, besides, it would take half the night. But before I could even gather my thoughts, Caprice went into gear.

"Well,
if you're my mother, if you and the guy are breathing hard, you think it must be love."

"Oh...?" I twisted my hands in my lap.

"Yeah, my mother romanticizes everything. She thinks that if she gets hot with some guy, it means he feels about her the way she feels about him. It's amazing how she can fantasize about someone without bothering to question whether they're really on the same wavelength." Caprice fished a piece of ice out of her glass of water and popped it in her mouth. She crunched it a few times, then went on. "My mother 'loves' just about every guy she meets. If he has blue eyes, she's 'in love.' If he writes poetry, she's 'in love.' If he drives a cool car, she's 'in love.' What a role model."

"Well, um, er
... what about you? You and Karl? How did you know ...?"

Millie arrived at our table. "Here ya go, girls."

She had barely placed the food in front of us, when Caprice picked up her burger and took a huge bite. She closed her eyes and practically purred. "Mmm ...."

"Can I getcha anything else?" Millie asked.

Caprice seemed to be off in hamburger heaven, so I answered, "We're fine, thanks."

"Okay. Just let me know if ya want anything else," Millie said, and then she was gone.

It looked as if Caprice was going to be distracted by her food for a while, so I slid the wrapper off my straw and sank it into my milkshake. The silky, creamy chocolate slipped down my throat so easily it was as if I didn't even have to swallow. If only life would go so smoothly.

After Caprice chomped down half her burger, and some of her salad, she took a long pull on her cherry Coke. "Ah! Now that I am no longer starving, where were we?"

"Well—"

"Oh, yeah. Me and Karl." Caprice drummed her fingers on the table. "Okay, so the first time I saw him, I was crazy about his looks. And his cute accent. When I saw him shooting baskets in your driveway, I was wowed."

"So ...," I said, remembering how I felt the first time I saw Nolan, "that's when you knew?"

"That's when I knew I wanted to
know him better." Caprice took a bite of her hamburger. "I guess I haven't really analyzed this before. Okay ... my heart skipped a beat whenever I was around him. But it was the way he treated me that ... that made him special."

"But he used to always tease the two of us!"

"Sure he did. But he was never mean. Think about it. He was sweet ... affectionate."

"Tugging on our hair and calling us 'The Bobbs
ey Twins' was sweet?"

"I thought so. I don't know. Maybe I just appreciated the attention." Caprice picked up her napkin and wiped a speck of mustard off her chin. "To me, the way a guy treats you is key."

"The way a guy treats you ...?"

"Yes. Karl treats me like gold."

"Gold?"

"Is there an echo in here?" Caprice twisted in her seat. "Look, I'm no expert. All I can say is, I've learned from my mother to avoid falling for a guy for all the wrong reasons. Think about what
you
want in a guy, then find that kind of a guy. You get what you ask for."

"You make it sound so simple.
"

Caprice laughed. "I never said it was simple. I dated some frogs the last couple of years. But that's okay. It just made me realize what I should avoid and what I should be looking for." She slurped up the rest of her cherry Coke. "Really, when it comes to finding the right guy, I can't tell you exactly what to look for. You're your own expert."

Expert? In my case, amateur was more like it.

Chapter
Thirteen

The next morning as I was loading the truck, Joel arrived. He parked in his usual shady spot, but sat for a moment. I heard him singing "Lonely Boy" along with Paul Anka on the car radio. When the song ended, he hopped out and helped me load mowers onto the truck, all the while whistling in smooth, sweet, silvery tones.

"Joel, I didn't know you could whistle so beautifully," I said as I closed the tailgate.

Joel wriggled his eyebrows, twirled an imaginary mustache, and cackled. "There's a lot you don't know about this mysterious man of many talents, my pretty."

I laughed. "I'll bet!"

Joel must have had a good night's sleep because he was back to his old lively self. On the way over to Monroe he sang along with every song on the radio. Before I knew it, we were at Mr. Parton's house. First thing, we unloaded the big mower.

"The junipers Mr. Parton wants trimmed are around back," I said, handing Joel the clippers. "I'll show you where." When we got to the rows of junipers lining the back property line, and part of the side, I said, "He likes them trimmed, but not sculpted. He doesn't want it to be obvious that they've just been trimmed."