Into the Woods (19 page)

an
investment."
"Investment? In what?"
"Our future." she said without a smile. Her tone was sterner, mare determined. "just do what I ask," she said. She put the roses into a vase and stepped back, admiring them. "Beautiful," she muttered, and then turned to me. "Aren't they?"
"Yes," I admitted.
She smiled again. "You'll set. You'll have a good time tomorrow, Grace, and you deserve that. honey. You deserve as much happiness as possible. and I'm going to be certain you will have it. I'll get ready to go out," she concluded before I could respond.
She returned to her bedroom.
I
looked at the flowers again, an explosion of color. opulent, overwhelming the modest condo. It was like putting a diamond ring on a homeless bag lady, I thought. Everything seemed so unreal to me, especially everything that had happened over the last week or so. My world was truly topsy-turvy, and to make sense out of any of it seemed impossible. I couldn't help but feel I was being swept along by some winds of fate.
Stop resisting Just accept, a voice inside me was urging. See to it that you restore laughter and smiles and do not make them painful or resent them. This
is
your heart giving you a direct order, Sailor Girl.
Aye, aye, I wanted to say.
And, of course. I wanted to salute.
Mommy really enjoyed our shopping. Cost didn't seem to matter at all, I was shocked at the price tags for the sailing outfits she had chosen for us, The blouses. jackets, shorts. and shoes totaled nearly eight hundred dollars because of the designer name,
"This is too extravagant. Mommy," I protested. "How often will I be wearing these clothes?"
"More often than you think." she insisted.
"Burt you have to work so long and hard to earn this much money,"
"Stop worrying so much. Grace. You'll get wrinkles in your forehead," she teased.
To
me it seemed she was tossing caution and reason cut the window. Was this all part of what happens to a grown woman after she has suffered so much tragedy and has had to change her life? Maybe she was having a different sort of nervous breakdown, I thought, The work. what happened at the restaurant. what happened with me at school. all of it was just too heavy for her fragile shoulders to bear on top of Daddy's tragic death.
After we had bought all the clothing, she decided she had to do something different with her hair, Unbeknownst to me she had already made an appointment with a beautician in Palm Beach, She insisted Igo along so I could walk Worth Avenue and "get a taste of the better life" I thought
I
might call Randy and have him meet me there. but Mommy said what I thought was a very strange thing for her to say.
"Don't get too close with anyone at your school. Grace. You know how hard it gets to be when you have to leave."
"But why would I leave. Mommy? We don't have Daddy the possibility of any transfer."
"Just take my advice." she said. sounding very cryptic. "Take a breath and step back. I don't want to see you have another minute of unhappiness."
"I
don't understand." I said.
"Trust me." she insisted, and we headed for Palm Beach.
"I
guess you're not going to work tonight then,"
I
said.
"No. Dallas will cover for me, Besides. it's time I spent more time on myself" She looked at me and added. "For both our sakes,"
Once again I felt there were forces and winds carrying me along. regardless of what I wanted,
.
I had never been to Palm Beach. All of our shopping and my school were in West Palm Beach. I didn't even understand that they were two separate entities, didn't understand until we crossed that bridge. My look of wonder began to rival Mommy's. It was as beautiful, as elegant, and as bright as she had described. I had never seen so many expensive automobiles and, when we were on Worth Avenue, sa many ritzy-looking people, especially the women. Even the dogs on jewel-studded leashes looked spoiled rotten.
Mommy parked the car and walked to the beauty salon as if she had been there many times. There was a luxurious waiting lounge with television sets, racks of magazines, and a cappuccino machine. The air was fragrant, not only with the aromas of hair sprays but with flowers. To me it was a little nauseating, and I made up my mind quickly to leave and wander about outside while she had her hair done.
As soon as Mommy gave the receptionist her name we were greeted by the owner of the salon himself, a man named Rene who had curly hair as black as licorice and a complexion close to alabaster.
I
was positive he was wearing makeup, even a little lipstick. He had long eyebrows and a gold stud earring. Dressed in a black silk shirt and white pants with a pair of leather sandals, he swung himself around a chair and strutted up to meet Mommy. He was wide in the hips, so he looked more as if he waddled, reminding me of Quack
^-
ie.
"
Enchante,
" he said, extending his hand as if he expected her to kiss it. He only offered his fingers to shake. which Mommy did. They were laden with rings, each a different precious stone. I was expecting her to laugh or to say something about his histrionics, but she simply stood there. glowing.
"Hello," Mommy said. "I'm sorry we called so late. but..."
"Oh, no, no, no, no," he replied, shaking his head so vigorously I thought he would rattle his brain. "I am so happy to be given the opportunity to do Mr. Montgomery a favor. Please," he added, stepping back so Mommy could enter the shop.
She turned to me. So Winston Montgomery had arranged this,
I
thought, a small detail she had forgotten to mention,
"Let me give you some money, Grace."
"I
still have the twenty you gave me two days ago," I said.
"'You might see something that costs a bit more here." she said. and Rene laughed. She handed me a fifty-dollar bill. I just stared at it. "Take it," she insisted, jerking it at me.
The receptionist watched with interest. I plucked the bill from Mommy's hand and shoved it into the pocket of my jeans.
Mommy smiled. "Explore," she said. "See for yourself how wonderful this place is.'
"Oh, how I wish
I
was a young girl just arriving in Palm Beach." Renee said, his eyes rolling like two green marbles in a dish.
You probably were,
I
wanted to say. but
I
left quickly instead. My nerves were so taut they were twanging like guitar strings. I just stood on the sidewalk, trying to calm myself. I wasn't looking at anything in particular. Cars floated by like magic carpets, glittering in the afternoon sunlight, a few driven by uniformed chauffeurs, their passengers poised like manikins in a store window.
"Excuse me,"
I
heard, and turned to my right.
An elderly lady with tightly styled blue-gray hair wanted me to step back so she could have more room for her and her dog to pass. To me the dog resembled a miniature hippopotamus. It had loose skin in thick wrinkled folds, especially on its forehead. The dog looked just as arrogant and as impatient as its owner. All she had to do was tighten up a bit on the leash, and she would have plenty of room to go by.
"There's plenty of room for you to go by." I told her.
She pulled her head back and threw me a hard look. Her witchlike face screwed into a tiny wrinkled prune. I heard her "Humph" as she struggled to get the ugly dog closer. Finally she was able to walk around me. "Tourists,"
I
heard her mutter disdainfully. The dog glanced back as if it understood and had the same disgust.
"You can get a ticket for that,"
I
heard, and turned to see a handsome young man sitting
comfortably in the driver's seat of a Mercedes convertible similar to the one Roger's mother owned. The man had a unique shade of gold-brown hair cut perfectly with a wave in the front. In the afternoon sunlight his cerulean eyes actually gleamed. He wore a light blue sports jacket with an open shirt collar. I could see his gold necklace,
"I
didn't do anything illegal." I told him.
You did here. You blocked the passage of a Chinese shar-pei. Grounds for arrest and
imprisonment.," he added with a small smile on his perfectly shaped lips.
"I
thought it was a baby hippo," I said, and he laughed.
He turned away quickly as a woman came out of the beauty salon.
"What's so funny. Kirby?" she asked.
"Nothing. Muffy," he said. I thought she looked old enough to be his mother, but he looked at her flirtatiously. You look ravishing."
"Think so?" she said, turning to catch her reflection in the window, "I let him darken my color and snip just a little more than usual."
"It's perfect," he said, and glanced at me. Something in his face told me he didn't mean a word of it. It was as if he and I shared a secret. He smiled and got out of the car quickly to open the door for her. As he came back around he looked at me again. "Remember, be careful." he teased.
When he got back into the car he leaned over to kiss the woman on the lips. Then he started the engine and drove off.
I continued down the sidewalk, looking in the windows of all the shops. Most of the clothing and shoes I saw on display had no price tags, but I could just smell how expensive everything was. I saw many different famous designer names. The people, mostly women. I saw emerging from these stores all seemed comfortable in their luxurious outfits, shoes, and jewelry, each one looking as if she was frying to outglitter the next.
I did go into Saks and look at some clothing. After that I wandered around, looking at the ritzy hotels, garden restaurants, and designer shops, circling until I found my way back to the salon. Mommy wasn't finished yet, so I sat and thumbed through some magazines. Finally I heard her laugh and looked up. My breath caught, and for
a
moment I couldn't speak. She had permitted Rene to cut her hair shorter than
I
had ever seen it. I almost didn't recognize her.
Mommy's hair was always something Daddy loved. Because of that.
I
resisted cutting my own. He even enjoyed it when she tied it in a French knot or, for fun, wove two pigtails. He often told her that her hair was like woven silk. Many times I saw him run his fingers through it with such pleasure on his face.
"How do you like it?" she asked me, turning so I could see it from every angle.
It
was clipped to just above the nape of her neck, and the sides were drawn up sharply, curling. The style resembled some of the ones I had seen on other women in the shops and on the sidewalks of Worth Avenue.
I shook my head. "It's awful," I said.
Everyone around her stopped chaffing. Rene raised his eyebrows.
"It's the latest style, honey." she explained. "I'm too old now to wear my hair the way I was wearing it. It's all right for a teenager, but..."
"You told Daddy you would never cut your hair," I reminded her. "I heard you."
"Daddy's gone, honey," she said softly.
"Not to me." I fired back at her, and charged out of the salon. I didn't know where I was going. I just walked quickly up the sidewalk, my arms folded under my breasts, my head down. I nearly walked into two women busily chatting and not watching where they were going. They gasped. and I shifted on my right foot in time to avoid slamming into them.
"My God!" one of them shouted after me. "Can't you watch where you're walking? Young people today," she muttered.
I paused at a fountain and caught my breath to stare at the half-moon-shaped tiled trough with a silver spigot that provided fresh water. A moment later an elderly man brought his poodle to it. and I watched the dog drink. The man smiled at me.
"Nothing too good for my baby." he said.
Expensive dogs were obviously very important to people in Palm Beach. I thought.
When the dog was satisfied, it tugged on the leash, and the man obediently continued his walk,
"What do you think you're doing. Grace?" I heard, and turned to see Mommy in our car. She had driven up and pulled to the curb. "Get in." she ordered.
I did, and she started away.
"I think I've been quite lenient and
understanding when it has come to your moods, your emotional trauma, and your needs. Grace.
I
also think you are old enough and smart enough to treat me as fairly and as understandingly as I have treated you. What you did back there was very embarrassing for me. You behaved like a petulant child, a spoiled brat," she continued, her voice harder than ever.
"Yes," she went on. "I did wear my hair the way your father liked it. I did everything I could to please him. Many times when you were younger and I had to rip us up out of one home and go to another, I swallowed my own tears and anxiety. I did what I had to do to keep my marriage and to keep your father from having too much worry and burden. We loved each other more than most people who marry love each other, and I don't regret a moment. but I am in a different world now, a different state of existence. and
I
can't live in the past or in memories.
I
have our welfare to think about and our futures to consider.
"I'm not going to be the same person I was. That person died with your father. Grace. If I don't let go.
I
can't go on. and I have no right to wallow in selfpity. That was why I chose to move and to take the job and start in a completely different sort of environment in the first place.
"I
need you to be just as grown-up and as realistic as I have to be." She looked at me. "There is just no more time to waste in mourning and feeling sorry for ourselves. I'm not going to permit it. but I can't do it without your full cooperation. Will I have it or won't I? Will you grow with me or not?"
She looked ahead at the bridge we were going to cross again, her eyes narrowing. "There are many bridges to cross in this life, and this just happens to be another, but it's a possible bridge to a better life for us."
Her lips trembled. She brought her hand to her eyes and wiped away tears. "I wish more than you know that this was all a nightmare and we would bath wake up and your daddy would be coming home to us again, but he's not He's not! Damn this world, he's not!" she cried, and pulled over and stopped the vehicle.
I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. I barely got out the words. "I'm sorry. Mommy."
She reached for me, and we hugged and held each other. We were like that so long a police patrol car came up behind us, and a policeman approached.