‘He can’t be that important,’ said Julie, stopping at the corner of Wayne and 10th. ‘We don’t even know his name.’
Tully punched Julie lightly in the arm. ‘But we will. We will. Tonight.’ As an afterthought, Tully asked, ‘Is Tom coming with you?’
‘But of course,’ said Julie.
‘But of course,’ mimicked Tully. She rolled her eyes and snorted.
Julie leaned close to Tully. The girls were standing in the middle of the road, in the middle of Topeka, in the middle of America, in the middle of an Indian summer. ‘I’ll tell you a little secret, Tull. He doesn’t like you, either.’
‘What’s to like?’ said Tully.
What’s to like? thought Julie as she rushed to get ready. What’s to like? she thought as she walked down the stairs, unhappy as always with her Mexican face and her slightly rounded Mexican body. Tom wasn’t there yet, thank God, to hear her mother ‘Oh, conchita! Why, you so beautiful! What a beautiful dress, turn around, let me look at you, my, aren’t you growing up, your hair looks so lovely, you gonna be such a heartbreaker!’
Tom did hear her mother, though. Angela Martinez continued to gush well after he arrived. ‘Isn’t she beautiful, Tom, isn’t she lovely?’ Julie rolled her eyes, a gesture she borrowed directly from Tully. ‘Mom! Please!’
‘Yeah, she is,’ said Tom. ‘Now, let’s go.’
Angela came over and hugged Julie. ‘All right, Ma, all right,’ said Julie, hugging her back. ‘You’re messing up my hair.’
‘Julie! Julie!’ Vincent, the youngest of her four brothers, came running from the kitchen, his hands full of raw cookie dough, and grabbed her around the thighs. ‘Julie!’ whined three-year-old Vinnie. ‘I want to go with you!’ She screamed, peeling him off her. ‘Ma! Get him off my dress!’
‘Take me with you!’ repeated Vinnie.
Julie looked intently at her mother. Angela turned to her youngest boy. ‘But Vinnie, who’s gonna help Mama make cookies? Or did you eat all the dough already?’
Vinnie was torn, but stomach won over brotherly affection, and he bolted back into the kitchen after kissing Julie’s dress good-bye.
‘Your mother!’ said Tom when they were outside.
‘Yeah, I know,’ Julie nodded. ‘She only likes me ‘cause she’s got no other daughters.’ But though she said that, she felt a little defensive. Yeah, that’s my mother. Everyone should be so lucky to have a mother like mine. She glanced at Tom. He annoyed her sometimes. Oh, well, she thought. Being in the history club together is fun enough.
3
After Tully and Julie left, Jennifer sighed and went upstairs into her parents’ bedroom. Her mother, just out of the shower, was sitting on the bed, one hand on a towel, one on her cigarette.
Jennifer said, ‘Ma, did you know that Marlboro just patented a waterproof cigarette?’
‘Don’t start with me, Jen,’ said Lynn Mandolini.
‘I’m serious. I’ve seen the commercial. “Why not enjoy two pleasures at once? Wash your hair and inhale nicotine at the same time. You’ve always wanted to do it, and now you can. It costs a bit more, but it’s worth it.”’
‘Are you quite done?’ asked Lynn. Jennifer smiled.
No mother and daughter could have looked less alike. It was a running joke in the Mandolini household that Jennifer, Lynn and Tony’s only child, must have been born to a Norwegian family who got tired of all those fjords and came to landlocked Topeka, only to get tired of baby Jennifer. ‘But Mom, Dad,’ Jennifer would say. ‘Didn’t you tell me you found me in a cornfield where the sun made my hair blond?’
Jennifer was a tall, blond, busty girl, who had always battled with weight. At eighteen, she was still winning; just. But she had the kind of body that with time and kids and plenty of good cooking might get heavy around the middle. Big breasts, small behind, thin legs. She was the only one on the cheerleading squad with a chest larger than 34B. Tully was usually merciless when she described the mammary attributes of the rest of the team when compared with Jennifer, and Jennifer all too frequently had to point out that Tully herself fell into the 34B category. ‘Yes, but I don’t go around parading my tits in a low-cut costume while I dance,’ Tully would say. At this, Jennifer would raise her eyebrows, widen her eyes, and stare mutely at Tully, who’d say, ‘All right, all right. But never on a football field, and only very rarely with a pom-pom.’
Jennifer’s mother was as dark and thin as Jennifer was fair and robust, outwardly anxious as Jennifer was outwardly calm, elegant as Jennifer was casual.
‘Everything ready?’
‘More or less,’ replied Jennifer. ‘Tully ate all the dip.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Lynn smiled. Then, ‘You must be happy Tully was allowed to come tonight.’
Tully and Jack. Yes. I’m not unhappy. ‘Sure,’ Jennifer said. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘How’s she doing?’
‘Okay. Her guidance counselor’s giving her a hard time.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Lynn said absentmindedly. ‘Why?’
Jennifer did not want to talk about Tully at the moment. ‘Oh, you know,’ she said, rolling her eyes, a gesture she borrowed directly from Tully. ‘Guidance counselors.’ She plodded back downstairs into the living room, where all the furniture had been moved to the walls. Jennifer sat down on the carpet. Her thoughts ran to the calculus quiz she had failed earlier in the week and told no one about; thoughts ran to the calc quiz and passed onto cheerleader practice on Monday. Here the thoughts stopped. Jen, a cheerleader! The valedictorian of her middle school, a former president of the chess and math clubs, a cheerleader! Well, at least she wasn’t a very good cheerleader. It seemed every time she threw her pom-poms up, they fell to the ground instead of into her hands. She got up off the floor and lumbered into the kitchen.
Her mother came up close to her and touched Jennifer lightly on the cheek with her floured fingers. ‘My baby. My eighteen-year-old, grown-up, big, big baby.’
‘Mom, please,’ said Jennifer.
Lynn smiled and hugged her. Jennifer smelled Marlboro and mint, and did not pull away.
‘Are you enjoying your senior year?’ Lynn asked.
‘For sure,’ said Jennifer, remembering her father’s exact same question three days after senior year began. At least Mom waited a few weeks, Jennifer thought, patting her mother gently on the back.
Lynn let go of Jennifer and went to look for her bag. ‘What’s the matter, Mom?’ Jennifer said. ‘Too long without a cigarette?’
‘Don’t be fresh.’ Lynn lit up.
Jennifer silently sidled after her mother, watching her make pigs in a blanket and sprinkle a little cinnamon on the apple strudel. Jennifer loved apple strudel. She walked over to the counter and broke a piece off the end.
‘Jenny