One or Two Things I Learned About Love (25 page)

What
a day! I suppose I could’ve gotten sick or something and refused to do the filming, but just to prove how difficult people can be – even your very own self – part of me actually wanted to go. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. You know, sneaking off to see another boy. I was sneaking off to spend the day with a carrot. So why should I sit at home letting Zelda beat me at checkers or whatever when I could be doing constructive street theatre and having fun? And anyway I’m getting used to feeling guilty. And I’m getting pretty used to being devious too. I didn’t want the D’Angelos to see me leaving with Louie (and dressed as a head of lettuce) in case they said something to Connor, so I told Louie to pick me up at my gran’s because I had to go over to her house first thing. Of course, I didn’t want my gran seeing me (dressed as a head of lettuce) leaving with Louie either because she might say something to my parents. So I put my costume on in that little copse up the road from Gran’s and then I waited for Louie on her corner, standing on the road side of the Langtree Bakery truck so if she looked out of her window or went out on her lawn she wouldn’t see me. Mr Langtree saw me but he didn’t recognize me. He wanted to know what I thought I was doing. I said I thought I was waiting for my friend. He said to act like a lettuce and leave. So I started walking in the direction I hoped Louie was coming from. A couple of people came out on their porches to watch me, and the chocolate Lab from the house with the bathtub in the front yard started following me. I was just wishing I’d brought my phone so I could see where Louie was when he pulled up beside me. He leaned out of the window and shouted, “Going my way?” Big morning for comedians.

It must be really awful to be a fugitive whose life is nothing but one long lie and complicated deception. If you’re hiding from the FBI or the Mafia or something like that. Even if you change your name and move to another town or another country, what good does it do you? Every time there’s a knock on the door your heart must go into toxic shock. Every time you turn a corner or an aisle in the supermarket you must hold your breath. Just in case. Just in case the person on the other side of the door is a special investigator or a hit man. Just in case the person reading the ingredients on a box of cereal is someone who knows who you really are and is about to start screaming like that woman in
Marathon Man
when she sees the Nazi torturer strolling through Midtown Manhattan looking like a businessman on his lunch hour. Just in case the person at the door or around that corner is your boyfriend. So even though we were MILES from where Connor’s game was, I was a wreck for the first couple of hours. My heart did that freezing-like-a-deer-in-headlights thing every time I saw a red car or a boy wearing a green baseball cap. And I did a lot of jumping into doorways and behind trucks. (It’s pretty epic how popular red cars and green baseball caps are in Apple Creek.) There must’ve been a really big sale on them a while ago. Ely didn’t seem to notice how jiggy I was. But Louie kept giving me looks. When Ely went to get some water Louie wanted to know what was wrong with me. He said I was like a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I said he was letting his imagination carry him over the farthest hill and into a magical land of illusion as usual. I just wasn’t used to being in the middle of a town dressed as a lettuce. Eventually, when none of the cars or caps turned out to be attached to Connor, I relaxed a little. I wouldn’t say I had as much fun as Mrs Claws does with a crumpled ball of paper, but I had patches when I enjoyed myself so much I forgot about him for minutes at a time. And I relaxed so much that when Louie asked if he was driving me home or if I wanted to be dropped off in some stranger’s driveway I said of course I wanted him to drive me home. But I slouched down in my seat. Louie said, “You know, if you want you can ride in the trunk and I’ll let you out when we get there.” I said I had no idea what he was talking about. I was just tired. But I was pretty glad when we pulled into Lebanon Road. I’d done it! My nose might be moving into the Middle East but I’d spent the day with Louie and Ely, and Connor hadn’t found out. That bubble of relief lasted for as long as it took me to get out of the car and walk up to the house. Because the second I stepped through the door, Zelda said Grandma wanted me to call her. Right away. I said, “
Grandma
?
Grandma
called
me
?” I had a really bad feeling. Up until then the President of the United States had called me as many times as my grandmother. And he never sounded urgent. I phoned her right back. Gran said she figured I’d want to know that Connor had called her about half an hour ago wanting to talk to me. You know, because I told him that was where I’d be. OHMYGOD. My life was over. My dreams were ashes blown out to a cold and unforgiving sea. I was going to have to join some cloistered religious order and devote my life to good works to make up for all the hurt I caused. And then my gran said, “I told him you’d just left.” I said you did? She said, “I trust you even if other people don’t.” If she hadn’t been on the other end of a piece of plastic I would’ve kissed her. Vicki D’Angelo, World’s Number One Grandmother.

Connor said I gave him my gran’s phone number. I said no I didn’t. He said yes you did. Don’t you remember? How could I remember when I didn’t give it to him? He said yes you did, Hildy. Did I? Am I really and truly losing my mind? Because if you think about it, I must’ve given it to him. She’s not listed. How else would he get it? And why? I mean if he wanted her number, he’d ask me. So I am losing my mind. Or this is very early senility creeping in?

If there is a Hell, am I going to go there for being a person whose grandmother lies for her? Will I be the sinner there with the longest nose?

Max
got back from the world of arts and crafts and mosquito bites on Saturday. Cristina says he looks exactly the same except darker and with a scar where he got hit by an arrow. She was really glad to see him. And vice versa. I said wasn’t he worried that you might date somebody else while he was away? She said no. I said and you weren’t worried that he might date somebody else while he was away? She said no. I said why not? Cristina said why bother worrying about what might happen? It wouldn’t stop it from happening. All it would do is make her unhappy. And then she’d make him unhappy. And then he probably would start looking around. Cristina said and anyway, if Max did cheat on her,
then
there’d be plenty of time to be miserable. And to make him feel really, really bad.

As soon as they got home from work, I went over to give Louie’s parents the frame I got them for their anniversary. I had a terrific picture of Louie, Scorsese and Hitchcock all sitting in Mr Masiado’s chair (Scorsese and Hitchcock are wearing Santa hats and Louie’s wearing antlers) so I put that in it. They loved it. Mr Masiado held it up and said, “Who would’ve thought when I asked Rose if she wanted to go to the movies she’d someday give birth to Bambi?” Louie and Mrs Masiado both groaned and rolled their eyes. I asked them what they think the secret of their long and happy marriage is. Mr Masiado said Mrs Masiado. Mrs Masiado said she figured she married the right man. Louie said, “You see? They can’t even agree on that!” They were going out for dinner but Louie’d baked them a cake and they insisted I have a piece with them. We were all sitting in the living room, tucking into our slices, when this face suddenly appeared pressing against the screen door like something out of a horror movie. Mr Masiado screamed and dropped his plate. It was Connor. He wanted to know if I forgot he was picking me up. I said of course not. Didn’t my mom tell him that I wanted to give the Masiados their anniversary present before we went out? He said yes, but not loudly. So I had to take my cake with me. I thought it was going to be one of those Connor-impersonates-a-brick-wall nights but instead he said he was sorry for scaring Mr Masiado. He’d forgotten about the anniversary. When my mother said I was across the street he’d thought I was hanging out with Louie. Connor said, “You know how I get. I can’t help it.” But he is getting better. He apologized. And he wasn’t mad at me. You see? Love will save the day!

On
Saturday, Mr Donnegal, the Dashers’ coach, is having a mighty end-of-summer party for them. Everybody’s invited. Including me. All the guys are bringing dates. Connor says he can’t wait to show me off. What am I going to wear? I don’t have a clue!

It was kind of quiet on the stand today. Ely and I did some juggling and talked. Just about regular stuff. Yakyakyak. He was really funny about some disaster dates he’s had. I guess I get a little nervous sometimes when I’m talking to Connor in case I say the wrong thing so it was nice just to say whatever came into my head. Until some evil spirit rose up from the general pollution and infected my brain because all of a sudden I heard myself asking Ely if he’d ever been jealous. I couldn’t believe I said that. Talk about having a big mouth. Why did I ask him that? He said jealous of what? I said oh you know. Just in general. He said you mean jealous of people who don’t drive 15-year-old pick-up trucks? Or of people who are under seven feet tall? I said forget it. He said are we talking about Connor? I said of course not. Connor doesn’t have a jealous corpuscle in his whole body. He’s caring, loving and protective, but he’s definitely not jealous. Ely cocked his head to one side like he wanted to see me from a different angle. He said, “So are we talking about
you
? You go around reading Connor’s emails and checking his phone messages? I had no idea you counted espionage among your many talents, Hildy.” I said yeah. And when I have nothing else to do I put on a blonde wig and a false nose and I go to Café Olé! to see who he’s talking to. Ely said I guess he’d recognize you if you went as a lettuce. We couldn’t stop laughing. But later I remembered what Ely had said and I wondered if that’s what Connor does. Not the blonde wig and the nose. The emails and messages. Is that how he knew where Gran lives? And then I couldn’t believe I’d thought that. Now who’s being paranoid? I wonder when I’m going to start becoming a better person.

Connor
says not to worry about what I’m wearing to the party. He says I always look good, no matter what. I said you’ve never seen me with terminal bedhead or when I’ve had the flu or you wouldn’t say that. And I look kind of jaundiced in anything yellow. He said I could wear dungarees and waders and my hair could look like it’s been electrocuted and I’d still look great to him. (How sweet is that?) Nomi doesn’t believe him. She said she once answered the door to Jax when she was hennaing her hair (she thought he was her mother), and he didn’t say, “Oh my darling Nomi you still look beautiful to me even with what looks like blood dripping down your face and a GAP bag over your head.” He screamed.

I’ve come up with a new theory. I call it the There’ll Be Another Train In A Few Seconds Theory Of Worry. Because as soon as I stopped worrying about how to convince Gus to lend me that peach silk shirt for the party, I thought of a couple of things I might want to worry about even more. I mean, it is a party. I’ve never been in a really big group of people with Connor before, but I don’t have a good feeling about it. Everybody’s going to be shining like sparklers. Laughing. Dancing. Fooling around. Flirting. Even if they’re not
really
flirting they’ll look like they are. Connor says it doesn’t matter what I wear, but I BEG TO DIFFER. All the girls are going to be dressed up like birthday cakes. Only I can’t wear some filmy top or skimpy skirt like everybody else. Connor’ll think I’m trying to attract other boys. Especially if he sees anybody actually looking at me. And I can’t possibly talk to people. Not in a party kind of way. Especially not boy people. With boys I have to stick to hi. And I can’t look at them. Not for more than a second or two. But the place will be full of boys. How can I not look at them? How can I not talk to them? What am I going to do? Sit next to Connor wearing baggy jeans and a sweatshirt and looking at the floor? I can’t spend the night in the bathroom. Can I? Would that even be possible?