Confessions of the Sullivan Sisters (6 page)

“How did you meet?” Carmen asked.

“In a class at Hopkins,” I said.

“Oh? Do you go to Hopkins?”

“No.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

“What is this, an interrogation?” Robbie asked.

“I’m just curious about your new friend, Robbie,” Carmen said.

Robbie scowled. An electric current ran between them—some history I didn’t know about. I’d been hoping to pass as a Hopkins undergrad, but I got the feeling Carmen already knew my true story. She just wanted to hear it from me. So I’d know she knew, and Robbie would know she knew.

“It’s a night class.” I hesitated to add the humiliation—not even a night class in, say, Existential Philosophy or Particle Physics but, “Speed Reading.”

“Speed Reading! You must both be whizzes at it by now. As I remember, Robbie already reads pretty quickly.”

“I wanted to go even faster,” Robbie explained.

“I’m sure you did,” Carmen said. “More wine?” She topped off our glasses. “Robbie, what’s the name of that girl Josh is with, do you remember? Shawn, or Sinead, or something?”

Robbie gave me away. “Norrie knows her. What’s her name?”

“Shea.”

Carmen’s wolf grin was wide and triumphant. “You sure get around for someone I’ve never met before. Did you meet Shea in Speed Reading too?”

“We go to school together,” I said. “We’re not friends or anything. I hardly know her.”

“Isn’t that interesting. Don’t be a snob, Norrie. You have more in common with Shea than you do with anyone else in this room.” She rose quickly with the bottle of wine and offered to refill someone else’s glass.

“Sorry about Carmen,” Robbie said. “She can be kind of a bitch.”

I got up to go to the bathroom. Shea and Josh came out of the bathroom together, rubbing their noses. At the sight of me Shea brightened and got friendly.

“Norrie! What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Shea. Same thing as you, I guess.”

“Your boyfriend is cute! Josh says he’s supposed to be very smart.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, exactly—”

“What do you mean? I saw him sitting with his arm around you. What are you doing here with him if he’s not—” A memory flickered across her face. “Wait—Brooks. You were at Gornick’s party with Brooks, and now you’re here with this guy….”

For as long as I’ve known her—and I’ve known her since seventh grade—I’d never seen Shea so talkative. At school she’s always chewing gum and hiding behind her hair and slouching around as if she doesn’t want anyone to see her. At parties, with boys, she’s all body language. But here, suddenly, in this exotic
world of grown-up people who intimidated me, she was chirpy and cute.
No wonder she likes being with older guys,
I thought,
if she feels more animated around them.

“I’m just hanging out with Robbie,” I said.

“You know what? I really want some wine,” Shea said. She tottered off to the kitchen counter where the wine was. Josh followed in her wake.

By the time Carmen’s homemade spice cookies were served, the music was louder, the windows were open, and people were dancing lazily in one corner of the room. Shea and Josh were planted at one end of the long orange couch, making out as if they’d forgotten they were in a room full of people. The next time I glanced in their direction, they were gone. I thought they’d left, but about half an hour later I saw Josh back on the couch, talking to Katya.

“I’m working on keeping my mind here and now, and not letting it drift, you know?” Josh said. Katya nodded absently, her eyes wandering around the room. “I’m in a constant struggle with my ego. I’m always trying to tamp it down but it pops back up by itself.”

“Maybe that’s just human nature,” Katya said.

“Josh is lying to Katya,” Robbie whispered to me. “See how he’s smiling with his mouth but not with his eyes?”

“Yeah…,” I said. Robbie was right—Josh’s smile looked stiff. “So you mean he’s not in a constant struggle with his ego?”

“I think he let his ego win a long time ago,” Robbie said. We snickered.

“Human nature is no excuse.” Josh stretched, then rested his hands on the waist of his pants.

“Look!” Robbie whispered. “He just made two classic flirting signals!”

“But she doesn’t like him,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m just getting a vibe.”

“Her legs are pointed away from him,” Robbie whispered. “That’s a signal she doesn’t like him. You picked up on it unconsciously.”

“I keep reminding myself in meditation: Other people don’t matter,” Josh said. “My consciousness is the universe.”

“That’s how you tamp down your ego?” Katya said.

Carmen ran out of her bedroom screaming in disgust.

“Josh! Where’s Josh?” She zeroed in on him. “Josh! That little lush you brought over puked in my bed! Right on my pillow!”

“Shit,” Josh muttered as Carmen dragged him back into her bedroom to show him the damage.

A few minutes later Josh pulled a stumbling Shea toward the door. Her eyes were heavy-lidded. She burped. “I’ve got to take her home. Sorry, Carmen.”

“What? You’re not going to clean up after her?”

“What do you want me to do? She’s in bad shape. I’ll make it up to you. Send me the laundry bill or whatever.”

“She’s never coming here again, do you hear me?” Carmen pushed them out the door. “That’s what you get for fooling around with little baby sluts.”
Slam!
She whacked the door shut.

A few people glanced in my direction.

Carmen turned her fury on me. “Maybe you should go too, Robbie, before something else happens. I don’t want to be responsible for corrupting a minor. You want to be a glorified babysitter, that’s your business.”

“Norrie’s fine, Carmen,” Robbie protested. “I—”

“Don’t worry, Robbie, I get it,” Carmen said. “I was too much for you, and since you can’t handle a real woman, you go for a high school girl. Nice and dumb and easy to scam. Right, Robbie?”

My face was flaming hot. I wanted to defend myself, but what could I say? Besides, it was obvious now that the electricity I’d noticed between Robbie and Carmen was an ex-girlfriend vibe.

“Norrie isn’t like Shea,” Robbie said. “Just because they’re the same age—”

“—and go to the same school—” Carmen said.

“—doesn’t mean they’re the same kind of person,” Robbie finished. “Norrie is not dumb and nobody’s scamming anybody. You want to see a real scam artist, look in the mirror.”

“I’m so grateful we broke up!” Carmen said. “It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Robbie grabbed my hand and we flew out of there. She slammed the door behind us too. “How dare she talk to you that way?” he said. “Or to me? Or to anybody?” He kicked open the door to the stairwell and raced down a few feet ahead of me. When we got outside in the cold night air he said, “I didn’t mean for things to turn out that way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her before?” I asked.

“We broke up months ago. Maybe she isn’t as over it as I thought.”

It was after midnight. The city was quieting down. A gang of boys watched us from across the street.

“Now what?” Robbie said. “We walked all the way down here. I left my car up near the gallery. How am I going to get you home?” He had figured on one of his friends driving us back to the car, but he hadn’t counted on making such a speedy and humiliating exit.

“Maybe we can catch a taxi,” I said. We weren’t far from the Ritz, and I knew we could probably find one there if we didn’t hail one on the street.

As it turned out, a cab drove by as we headed for the hotel. We flagged him down and he drove us up Charles Street to Robbie’s car. We were quiet as we drove north through the city. The glasphalt sparkled like a street of stars. When he pulled up in front of the house, he laughed and said, “Look at this place! So you really
are
part of that evil family on the website.”

The light was on in the Tower. “That’s us all right—the evil family.”

I waited for him to kiss me good night, but he hesitated. Maybe Carmen’s words were echoing in his head, especially “babysitter.” They were definitely banging around in
my
head.

“There’s a big difference between you and Shea, you know,” he said. “I mean, people don’t respect Shea. She’s always wasted and she doesn’t know what she’s doing half the time. She just lets things happen to her.”

“People don’t respect me either,” I said. “At least, your friends don’t.”

“They don’t know you.” He leaned toward me and brushed my cheek with his lips. “I’m just trying to say don’t worry about what my jealous ex-girlfriend thinks. She’s only trying to make me mad. Okay?”

I wasn’t convinced, but I said, “Okay.”

I opened the car door. Robbie didn’t get out to open it for me the way Brooks would have. But I didn’t mind. I was perfectly capable of opening it myself.

“I’ll wait till you get inside,” he said. “See you in class on Tuesday.”

“See you in class.”

I ran inside the house and waved from the front door. He waved back and drove away.

Upstairs in my room, Jane and Sassy waited.

“
JANE, WHAT THE F
—?”
I THREW MY BAG ON THE DRESSER
,
pulled my sweater over my head, and cursed her out. I was warm from climbing the stairs and being kissed and feeling annoyed. “My Evil Family? Dot com?”

Jane grinned. “How did you find out? Is it famous yet?”

“In a way,” I said. “One of Robbie’s friends showed it to me. She recognized my last name and asked me if I was one of
those
Sullivans. I wish I wasn’t.”

“It’s just a little thing I started,” Jane said. “Bridget has one too. Hers is called bridget2nowhere.com.”

“Very clever,” I snapped. “But why?”

“Because everybody looks up to us,” Jane said. “And we’re shrouded in mystery and mythology. Almighty spreads these stories about our ancestors and how great they were. I thought people should know the truth. Anyway, I haven’t written anything about you…yet.”

“You better not.”

“How was the opening?” Sassy asked.

“Crowded,” I said. “And guess who was there? Ginger and Daddy-o.”

Sassy gasped and Jane laughed. “You’re kidding! Did they meet Robbie?”

“Yes. They were very polite.”

“What did Robbie think of them?” Jane asked.

“He thought they were charming.”

“Everybody always says that,” Sassy said.

“Yeah, if they only knew the truth,” Jane said. “That’s exactly why I’m writing this blog—”

“Please,” I said. “Like you know the truth about anything.”

Sassy tried to keep the peace. “Where’d you go after the opening?”

“To a party at this girl Carmen’s house—and she turned out to be Robbie’s ex-girlfriend.”

“Holy crap.”

“Yeah. Shea Donovan was there too. It was one of those nights when you can’t go anywhere without running into somebody.”

“You mean, like, every night?” Jane said.

“Shea got wasted and threw up in Carmen’s bed.”

Jane cracked up. “Poor Shea,” Sassy said.

I put on my nightgown and nudged Jane over to make room for me on the bed. Sassy picked up a hunk of my hair, twirled it around in her hand, and let it drop. She likes to play with my hair.

“The thing is,” I said, “I keep thinking about Shea, and me, and what it means that we’re, I don’t know, in the same world. If we’re both dating these older guys, does that make me…like her?”

Sassy twirled my hair some more. Jane thought this over.

“You mean, are you a slut like Shea? The answer is definitely yes.”

I bumped her with my hip so hard she almost fell off the bed. “Really. I can see what people think of Shea. The girls at the party were putting her down. But what do they say about me? And how does Robbie think about me? Do you think he sees me as a malleable little high school girl he can use and then dump? Like I’m too young to know what he’s up to? I mean, why is he with me? Why really?”

I didn’t really expect them to have any answers. I wish I had an older sister.

“You have two choices,” Jane said. “You can play it safe, break up with him right now, and you won’t get fooled and you won’t get hurt. Or you can keep seeing him and find out what happens. It might be good, it might be bad.”

“What do you think I should do, Sass?”

She stopped playing with my hair and stretched her legs out from under her nightgown. “I think you should give him a chance. Keep your eyes open. If you chicken out, won’t you always wonder what would have happened?”

I noticed a brown spot on Sassy thigh, about the size of a quarter. “Where’d you get this bruise?” I touched it lightly.

She flinched but said, “It doesn’t hurt.”

“How’d you get it?”

“I got hit by a car,” she said.

“Again?” I said.

“Sassy, what’s wrong with you?” Jane said. “Don’t you ever watch where you’re going?”

“I do,” she said, looking sheepish. “They just come out of nowhere. It’s like I have a magnet inside me that attracts cars.”

“Did you hit your head? Are you hurt anywhere else?” I asked.

“No. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

I looked at Jane, who shook her head.

“Really, I’m fine,” Sassy said. “Cars can’t hurt me.”

“Sassy, no.”

“Not that immortality stuff again.”

“How else do you explain it?” she said. “I fell through a hole in the space-time continuum, and in this parallel universe I can’t be hurt. I’m unkillable.”

“You’re un-sane,” Jane said.

“Sassy, please don’t think you can just walk in front of moving cars and be okay,” I pleaded. “You’re just as killable as the rest of us.”

“Okay,” she said. But I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

“Who’s the boy, Norrie?” Ginger asked.

I went downstairs at 10:30 the next morning. Takey had finished his cereal hours earlier and was already out with Miss Maura at a soccer game. Sassy, Ginger, and Daddy-o were quietly eating eggs and bacon. Jane followed me downstairs a few minutes later.

“What boy?” I said like an idiot.

Ginger sighed dramatically and rattled the charm bracelet on her freckled arm. “The boy you were with at the gallery. He was
terribly good-looking. Though I’d like him better with a haircut.”

“Oh, him? That was Robbie.”

“I remember his name, darling. That’s not what I’m asking.”

“I thought he seemed like a very nice young man,” Daddy-o said. “Refined.”

“You could tell that just by looking at him?” Jane asked.

“Of course, lovey. How else?”

“What is it with boys and crazy hair these days?” Ginger shuddered.

“I’d think you’d like that crazy long hair,” Daddy-o said. “Reminds you of your own youthful adventures.”

Ginger and Daddy-o can easily lose the thread of a conversation and go off on some tangent like “Hair Styles of 1977.” But not this time.

“It reminds me of my youth a little too much,” Ginger said. “So—? What school does he go to?”

“School?” I said.

“Yes, Pie. You know, that place where you go to learn nine months a year?”

I had a feeling that Ginger and Daddy-o would like Robbie just fine, as long as they didn’t find out too much about him.

“Well…he goes to Hopkins.”

“College boy, eh?” Daddy-o said. “What’s he studying?”

“Film,” I said.

“Film?” Ginger said. “That sounds like a perfect waste of time. But wasting time is what college is for, I suppose.”

As long as they accepted the information they had so far and probed no further, I might be all right. Leave it to Sassy to spill the dirt.

“I want to meet him,” Sassy said. “I can’t imagine going out with a boy who’s older than St. John.”

Daddy-o slapped the newspaper on his plate, and Ginger let her bracelet clank on the table. “Older than St. John? What are you talking about?”

“Ha-ha,” Jane gloated. “There are no secrets in this family—anymore.”

I glared at Sassy, but immediately felt guilty about it, because I knew she felt sorry and didn’t mean to be such a blabbermouth. Jane, on the other hand, was going to get it.

“I thought you said he was a college boy,” Daddy-o said.

“He must be pretty stupid if he’s older than St. John and hasn’t finished his degree yet,” Ginger sniffed. “Is it a learning disability or does he take a lot of drugs?”

“He’s in graduate school,” I explained.

“Exactly how old is this gentleman?” Daddy-o asked.

“Twenty-five.”

Daddy-o frowned, pondering this. “That’s quite a bit older than you, Norrie.”

“Where did he go to high school?” Ginger asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “He’s from New York.”

“New York!” Ginger got up and threw herself onto the chaise longue. You know the green one by the breakfast nook? We keep it there in case she’s seized with an urge to lie down. “A twenty-five-year-old film student from New York…with a learning
disability…who takes drugs. Oh, darling, how awful. What kind of future could he possibly have?” The age difference in and of itself didn’t bother her. It was the slackerish nature of his chosen profession. And maybe the drugs, which were a figment of her imagination but now would be stuck in her mind forever.

“What about St. John?” I said. “Who’s hiring philosopher poets?”

“St. John comes from money,” Ginger said. “There’s always a future in money. Does this Robinson Pepper have money?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I doubted it, and I didn’t care.

“At least he lives the life of the mind,” Daddy-o said. “That’s something.” But I could tell by the way he picked at a nonexistent crumb on his chin that he felt uncomfortable with the situation.

“What if you end up marrying him?” Ginger said, off on her own tangent. “You don’t want your last name to be ‘Pepper’…Norris Pepper…It’s too…
redolent
.”

“I could keep my own name.”

“It’s annoying when women do that,” Daddy-o said. “It makes everything so complicated.”

I slurped my cooling coffee. “We’re not getting married. I just met him a few weeks ago.”

“You hardly know him,” Daddy-o said.

“He’s already having a bad influence on you,” Ginger said. “Since
when
do you slurp your coffee that way?”

Jane burst out laughing and slurped hers too.

“My slurping my coffee has nothing to do with him.” I slurped again. “Anyway, you have nothing to worry about because I’m not going to marry anyone.”

“Me neither,” Jane said.

“Nonsense, darling, you’ll marry someone lovely and suitable,” Ginger said. “You too, Jane. Sassy, thank you for not making such a ridiculous declaration in the first place.”

“I didn’t have time to,” Sassy said. “I might not get married, who knows? And what’s suitable?”

“Suitable is like Brooks Overbeck,” Jane said, clearly trying to cause mischief.

“Exactly,” Ginger said. “Norrie, this Pepper person isn’t a boy, he’s a grown man. He’ll either toy with you and toss you aside—”

“Oh, he had better not do that,” Daddy-o said, his jowls shaking.

“—or he’ll want to get serious with you. You don’t want to get all wrapped up with someone like this now, Norrie. You’ll miss out on all the marvelous boys your own age, like Brooks. You’ll have plenty of time in your twenties to date aimless losers who think they’re creative and can’t make a living. And besides, who are you going to take to all the debutante parties this year? Not some crazy-haired grad student from out of town. He doesn’t even own a proper seersucker suit, does he? I’m assuming he doesn’t.”

Jane smirked, triumphant because this conversation fed so beautifully into her theory that our family is evil.

“I have no idea what kind of clothes he’s got hanging in his closet,” I said. “For all I know he’s got a Starfleet captain’s uniform hidden in there. If he wants to wear it to a debutante party, that’s up to him.”

Ginger was really pissing me off. Daddy-o less so, because I could tell he was seriously thinking this over, until his brain got
tired and he wished it away. But Ginger was putting all kinds of obstacles in my path, silly obstacles that were all about her and what she wanted.

“End it now, darling. That’s my advice. This little adventure of yours isn’t going to go anywhere.”

“I agree,” Daddy-o said. “This situation makes me very uncomfortable. I don’t like thinking of you with a man who’s older than my oldest son.” He picked up his newspaper and gazed into its depths, ready to wash his hands of this whole affair and go back to his absentminded preoccupations. “I don’t want to forbid you to see him, Norrie—one can’t legislate one’s heart’s desires, after all—but I certainly wish you’d stop so our lives can go on again as usual. Thank you, dear.”

Ginger studied me for a long time. At last she said, “Norrie is just trying to get some attention, that’s all. To worry us and rebel a little. Aren’t you, darling? You haven’t been a bit rebellious until now, and everyone’s entitled at your age.”

She turned her face away and closed her eyes. “And, girls—this goes for all three of you, and you too, Al—I hope this won’t get back to Almighty. She doesn’t need to hear the sordid details of your love life, Norrie. It would only upset her, and no one wants that.”

“Certainly not. No one wants that,” Daddy-o chimed in.

See how we keep things from you, Almighty? But now I’m telling you everything. I’m not leaving anything out.

Conversation over. Daddy-o was buried in his newspaper, and Ginger covered her eyes with her forearm as if she had a terrible headache. Sassy shrugged and looked sheepish. Jane grinned
mischievously. I pointed at the ceiling—universal code for “My room, now”—and the three of us went upstairs for a Tower Meeting.

“This isn’t over, is it?” Sassy said on the stairs.

“No, it isn’t,” I said. “And, Jane, this had better not end up on that stupid blog of yours.”

“Freedom of speech. You can’t tell me what I can and can’t write about, Mussolini.”

I pressed her against the wall and said in my most threatening voice, “I’m your sister. If you care about my happiness and well-being, you will not write about my private problems in your blog.”

“Understood,” Jane said. “Unless it becomes a public matter. Then it’s out of my hands.”

“Make sure it doesn’t become a public matter,” I said between clenched teeth.

“Will do, Mildew.”

“Think of it this way, Jane,” Sassy said. “If you spill Norrie’s secrets, she won’t confide in you anymore. How would you like that?”

She tried to hide it, but I saw a flash of horror cross Jane’s face. She hates to be left out. I gave Sassy a grateful smile. Sometimes she knows exactly the right thing to say.