It's Not the End of the World (4 page)

ordered a Martini. You have to sit in that section if you're going to have a drink. It was pretty quiet in the dining room. Maybe because it was so early or maybe because it was Tuesday night. Monday and Wednesday are the Big Fish Fry and Big Chicken Fry nights, where you can eat all you want for $1.98.

I can't remember ever eating out with just Daddy and not Mom too. I think we all felt funny. I know I did. There I was with my own father and it was like I hadn't seen him for ages instead of just a few days. He looked the same. I didn't expect him not to. But I thought there'd be something different about him now. I don't know what. But something that would let people know he didn't live at home any more.

After we ordered, Daddy said, "I miss you all very much."

Me and Jeff mumbled that we missed him too.

Then Amy asked, "Do you miss Mommy?"

My father looked sad and said, "No, I don't."

"Are you getting a divorce?" Jeff asked.

"Yes," my father answered.

"I thought you were just thinking about it," I said. "I thought it wasn't definite yet."

."We're definitely getting a divorce," he said. "It's the only way."

"Do you love somebody else?" Jeff asked. "Or does Mom?"

I never even thought about that! I couldn't picture

my father with another woman or my mother with another man. That was disgusting! How could Jeff even think of such a thing? I took a sip of water and waited for my father to answer.

"No ... no ..." he said, "It's nothing like that. There's nobody else involved. Your mother and I just don't get along. We can't go on living together. It's making a mess of our lives."

"Suppose we don't want you to get a divorce?" I said.

"I'm sorry, Karen, but this is between your mother and me."

"I want to live with you, Daddy!" Amy said.,

"Don't be a jerk," Jeff told Amy. "The kids always live with the mother."

"Is that true?" I asked.

"Yes, usually," Daddy said. "Unless there's some reason why the mother shouldn't have the children."

"What about us?" I asked. "Where will we live?"

"With your mother."

"But where?"

"Right now you'll stay in the house."

"But for how long?" I asked.

"Karen . . . you're asking me questions I can't answer," Daddy said. "We haven't worked out any of the details yet. I'm seeing my lawyer tomorrow. You don't get divorced overnight."

"How long does it take?" Jeff asked.

"That depends. I guess about six months. Maybe more."

"Daddy. . ." Amy said, "please come home."

My father held Amy to him. Then he took off his glasses and started to clean them with his napkin. I think he had tears in his eyes. I didn't feel like eating anything.

After dinner Daddy took us into the motel to see his room. It has two beds and a TV. The bathroom is very small. "Are you going to live here forever?" I asked.

"No. Just until I find an apartment."

"Will we still see you?" I said.

"Of course you will. I'm your father and I'll always love you. Divorce has nothing to do with that."

After a few minutes Jeff said, "Well . . . I've got to get home. I have lots of homework to do." His voice broke on every word.

Nobody said much on the drive back to our house. When we got there Amy asked Daddy to come in and carry her up to bed like he always does. But Daddy said, "No, I'm not coming in."

Tuesday, March 2 Divorce . . . it's the end of the world.

In the middle of the night Amy shook me. I sat straight up in bed. "What's the matter?" I asked. -

"I'm afraid to go to sleep," she said.

"Why?"

"I'm afraid if I do you'll all be gone in the morning, just like Daddy."

"That's silly," I told her.

She threw her arms around me. She was shaking. I held her tight. "Can I sleep in here with you?" she , asked.

"I guess so," I said. But I really didn't want her to. I wanted to be alone. How could I cry with Amy in my other bed?

As soon as I tucked her in she fell asleep. But I tossed and turned for a long time. I wish I could talk to somebody about my parents. If only Debbie knew-I think I would feel better. I've got to figure out a way to tell her what's happening. She'll

be able to cheer me up. Besides making monkey faces, Debbie has a very good sense of humor. I guess that's why everybody likes her. She doesn't even mind laughing at herself. I'm really lucky to have her for a best friend, even though I don't always show it. I am sure just having her know the truth will help.

On Wednesday afternoons Debbie and I walk to Girl Scouts together. Our troop meets at Willow Grove Church. That's just a few blocks from school. Then either Debbie's mother or mine picks us up. I used to love my Girl Scout uniform. But I am thinking of quitting after this year. So is Debbie. We are both sick of selling cookies and calendars to the same people year after year. If we had a good leader it would be different. But ours is a bore. If I was ever going to be a Girl Scout leader I would think up interesting activities for my group to do. And if they made a lot of noise I wouldn't yell that they give me a headache.

I planned to tell Debbie about my parents while we were walking to our meeting. But by three o'clock I was so mad at Mrs. Singer I couldn't think of anything else! Because this afternoon she called me up to her desk to discuss this month's book report. It was due last Monday. I scribbled mine out Sunday night before I went to sleep. I never even read the book. I just copied some stuff off the inside flap of

the jacket. I've never done that before, but some kids in my class do it all the time.

Mrs. Singer said, "Did you enjoy the book you read this month, Karen?"

I said, "It was all right."

"Your book report wasn't nearly as good as usual."

"I was very busy," I told her. "I had to do it in a hurry."

"What did you think about the ending?"

"It was all right."

"Were you surprised by it?"

"A little," I said. I could tell that Mrs. Singer knew I hadn't read the book. Just as the bell rang she handed me my book report. I got a D-my first bad mark in school.

I could feel my face turn red as I walked to the back of the room to get my coat. Debbie waited for me at her desk. I picked up my books and marched out into the hall. Debbie called, "Good-by, Mrs. Singer," as she followed me.

Mrs. Singer called back, "Good-by, girls."

I didn't answer her.

When we were out of the building Debbie asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"What'd Mrs. Singer want to see you for?"

"Don't mention that witch's name! I hate her!"

"What'd she do?"

"Gave me a D on my book report!"

"She did?"

"Yes. There's something about me that Mrs. Singer can't stand. This proves it!"

"She hardly ever gives out D's for book reports," Debbie said, "unless she thinks you didn't read the book."

I glared at Debbie, then I pulled my scarf up around my face. The wind was howling and it was really cold. We hurried along not saying anything for a while.

We only had one more block to go when Debbie said, "I heard about your parents . . . and I'm sorry."

"Heard what?" I asked, biting my lip.

"You know."

"Know what?"

"Oh, come on, Karen. That your parents are getting a divorce."

Well, there it was. Out in the open. But not the way I'd planned it. / was the one who was going to tell Debbie. And she was the one who was going to make me feel better. "Who told you?" I asked.

"Your aunt met my mother in Food Town and she told her."

"Oh," I said. I always knew Aunt Ruth had a big mouth. It must have to do with her rabbit teeth. She's just like Amy.

"How come you didn't tell me?" Debbie asked when we got to the church.

"It wasn't definite." We went inside and jumped around a little to get warm. Then we hung up our coats.

"What's it like?" Debbie asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What's it feel like?"

How could she ask such a dumb question! "How do you think it feels?" I said, running for the bathroom.

"Hey, Karen. . . wait up!" Debbie caught me before I got inside. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it would be so bad."

"Well, it is."

"Are they going to have a fight over you and Jeff and Amy?"

"What kind of fight?"

"You know . . . about who gets the kids."

"No. We stay with our mother."

"Doesn't your father want you?"

"I don't know. He said we'll live with our mother." Now I was getting all mixed up. Why did she ask if Daddy wanted us? Did Aunt Ruth know something else? Did she tell Mrs. Bartell something that Debbie knows? Oh ... I hate everybody! I must have been crazy to think Debbie could cheer me up.

9.

I have only one grandparent and that's Daddy's father. We call him Garfa because Jeff couldn't say "Grandpa" when he was a baby. When you are twelve you feel pretty stupid calling somebody Garfa, especially in public. So whenever I talk about him in school or to my friends I say "my grandfather." Only Debbie knows he is Garfa.

Garfa started Newman's furniture store when he was young, in the olden days. Daddy took it over thirteen years ago when Grandma died and Garfa retired. I never knew my grandmother but everybody says I look like her. I've seen some pictures though and I don't think there is any resemblance between us at all. But you can't argue about something like that with your family. Once they make up their minds that you look like somebody special, that's it.

Garfa lives in Las Vegas. The dry climate is supposed to be good for his health. But I have heard that

he likes gambling. This is not something that the family talks about much. Last year Garfa got married again. His new wife's name is Mattie and she is sixty-five years old. Imagine getting married when you are sixty-five!

Garfa and Mattie visited us over the summer. The only thing wrong with Mattie is she doesn't like cats. She more than doesn't like them-she is terrified of them. So Debbie kept Mew at her house for two whole weeks.

I just found out that Garfa is going to pay us a visit this weekend, but Mattie is staying home in Las Vegas. Daddy called to tell him about the divorce, which is why he is coming.

On Saturday, Garfa came into our house alone. Daddy just dropped him off. The first thing Garfa said after he kissed us and gave us the once-over was, "Well, Ellie, there hasn't ever been a divorce in our family. Not even way back. When the Newmans get married they get married for keeps. Or until one of them dies."

My mother didn't say anything. She just shook her head. I didn't think Garfa should discuss the divorce in front of Amy. But of course he didn't know she was so afraid at night.

"Listen, Ellie . . . everybody has problems," Garfa said. "Even me and Mattie have problems. But we're willing to work them out. That's what

you have to do. Work out your problems with Bill."

"We can't," my mother said.

"Dammit, Ellie! Don't give me that! Of course you can. That's why I came. I want you and Bill to get away for a little while. All you need is a vacation. And it's on me."

"Oh, Garfa . . ." Mom said. "Thank you for trying but it's just no use. A vacation isn't going to solve anything. Don't you see. . . ." Mom ran upstairs.

Later, after Daddy picked up Garfa, my mother drove downtown to get a box of Kentucky Fried Chicken for supper. Daddy can't stand that stuff. Well, now he'll never have to eat it.

I set the table while Mom cut up the salad. I didn't put out our regular paper napkins. I went into the den and came back with some of the cocktail napkins that say Ellie and Bill. I folded them up and put one at each place.

My mother called Jeff and Amy for supper. She didn't see the napkins until we were all seated. Then she looked at me and said, "I don't think this is very funny, Karen."

"I wasn't trying to be funny," I said.

"Then why did you use these?"

"Because there isn't going to be any more Ellie and Bill and I thought we might as well use them up now."

Mom collected the napkins and mashed them into

a ball. She got up from the table and threw them away. "Where's the rest of the box?" she asked me.

"In the den, by the bar."

"Okay . . . after dinner get it and put it in the garbage."

"Boy, are you stupid!" Jeff whispered to me.

My mother didn't eat any chicken. I don't think she's been eating anything lately. She is getting very skinny. If she is so miserable without Daddy and he is so miserable away from us then why are they getting divorced? I don't understand.

On Sunday night Daddy took us out to dinner. We went to The Towers Steak House, which is my all-time favorite restaurant. I have never eaten out as much as in the week my parents have been separated.

During dinner Garfa tried to persuade Daddy to take a vacation with Mom. But it didn't work. Daddy said that was out of the question.

I could see how disappointed Garfa was at not being able to get my parents back together, so when we were alone for a minute I said, "Don't worry, Garfa." I thought of telling him about that TV show where the little boy got kidnapped. But I didn't. Because those things never happen in real life, do they?

"I can't help it, Karen," Garfa said. "I was so sure I'd be able to straighten everything out."

"Do you think I should try too?" I asked.

Garfa smiled at me. "It can't hurt."

Before he flew home to Las Vegas, Garfa told me to keep him posted on whatever was going on. "You're the most dependable person in this family, Karen. You're just like your Grandmother Newman. And you know something? You look more like her every time I see you."

"Oh, Garfa!" was all I could think to say.

Petey Mansfield seems to have moved into our house. He is Jeff's new best friend. They're always locked up inside Jeff's hideaway.

I don't know if Petey Mansfield is normal or not. He doesn't talk at all. Sometimes if you ask him a question he'll grunt at you, but otherwise, forget it. How does he manage in school? I wonder. His brother Brian is in my class. He never shuts up. Mrs. Singer is always yelling at him. Maybe that's why Petey doesn't talk. Maybe he doesn't ever get a chance.