My Former Self (5 page)

“So are you dating anyone, Ton?” And there it is, like everyone else, she too wants to know. It’s the question of the century.

“Not really, no. Are you still going to the gym?” I try to change the subject.

“You know, I understand better than anyone that it’s good to be cautious, but I think you’re being too picky. I mean, there are a lot of good guys out there. What about that Jake or Jason guy you were seeing?” She won’t bite on my question.

Jason was a guy I had made up to get out of going to my cousin’s wedding. I had said we were attending his high school reunion in London and had already booked a flight and hotel. I don’t usually lie to Sandy, but it was more a lie for everyone—my whole family, extended included.

“Oh, things didn’t work out. He was nice enough, but we just didn’t really have a whole lot in common.” I hate lying.

“I think you need to be a little easier on these guys or else you’ll never find someone,” she warns, as though being alone is not an option.

“I know, Sandy. I wish people would just leave me be. I’ll date when I’m ready. It’s really nobody’s business.” I regret it once I say it.

“Can we head home? I need to shower before dinner,” she asks, and I can tell that she’s hurt. I know she cares about me and just wants me to have someone special in my life, but after the day I had yesterday—and the night before, with Rosanna—I am frustrated. But I let it go. I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, so why bring it up again?

We get ready for dinner and I pour us each a glass of wine. Once we’re ready we sit down on the couch to figure out where we’ll go. We decide on Vietnamese.
There’s a quaint little restaurant within walking distance. There aren’t many people in the restaurant, so grabbing a table isn’t a problem. We settle down, order a half litre of wine, and peruse the menu. The decor in the restaurant is what you’d find in many Asian restaurants here: pictures of Asian women gardening, paper fans on the walls, and fake plastic roses in vases at each table. I wonder if these “flowers” have ever been washed, because I notice dust on the leaves and a splash of some sort of sauce on the petals.

At the table next to us is a couple with a baby who is only a few months old. The baby is fussing and the parents are doing everything they can to console their child. I have to wonder why on earth they’d come out to dinner on a Saturday night with a newborn. Do they miss their old life so much that they feel the necessity to cling to some semblance of the good old days? In the meantime, everyone around them is annoyed by the crying, and although the waitress says how cute the baby is, it’s obvious that she too is irritated.

The thought of caring for a baby is so foreign to me. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do to console a newborn. I remember when Sandy first had her baby, she was insulted that I didn’t want to hold Anna more than I did. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my niece; I just had no idea how to hold a baby and it felt unnatural to me. My sister eventually came to understand that it was nothing personal.

I am nudged back to my table when my sister speaks. “So, have you spoken to Dad lately?”

“Not since his birthday, you?” I feel guilty when I realize that his birthday was over a month and a half ago.

“Yeah, I spoke to him a few days ago,” she says. “He’s doing all right. He signed up for two classes at the community centre. One is a computer course, which he definitely needs. I think it’ll be good for him to get out—that is, if he goes. Remember when he signed up for that wine-tasting course and went once and never again? I think it was too soon for him. Now, he seems to be ready to go out and meet new people.”

“I hope so. I should call him.”

“Uncle Jack has been really good. He always tries to get Dad out. Have you seen him at all?”

“No, I haven’t.” I reach for my wine and end up knocking over Sandy’s glass. Her wine spills onto her lap. I leap up.

“Oh my God! I am so sorry, Sandy.”

“That’s okay. My napkin absorbed most of it. Luckily, it was white.” The waitress comes up with a cloth to wipe the table. She asks us if we’d like more wine. I say of course, before my sister has a chance to respond.

We spend the next few hours eating and drinking and talking. We reminisce about the family vacations we went on when we were small and all together. I am not sure if it is the wine or the memories or both, but we end the night with tears in our eyes.

Summer 1989

I
am awakened by the sound of a dog sniffing my things. I look around and remember that I am at Kaitlyn’s. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like a desert. I need some water. The water here tastes disgusting, as Kaitlyn’s mom lives just outside of town and is on a well system. I have no idea what they put in their water, but it’s yellow, it smells, and it doesn’t taste like water. I look at the bed beside me—Kaitlyn’s still sleeping. I get up to get a drink in the kitchen. Kaitlyn’s mom must already be at work. The kitchen is a mess and there are dirty dishes everywhere. Her dog, Buddy, follows me to the kitchen as though he anticipates me feeding him. I see his bowl is empty and look around for his
food. I check out every cupboard, but I can’t find where they keep the food. I suppose Buddy will just have to wait until Kaitlyn wakes up.

I have to find something to drink. I check the fridge and there is only milk, which I hate. I look in the cupboards for a packet of Kool-Aid or something that I can use to flavour the water, but if I can’t find dog food, I’m sure I’m not going to find that. I do find Coke, but after the rye and Cokes I had last night—some guy referred to as “Tiff ” made me some really strong drinks—that’s the last thing I’d want to drink. So my options are: bad-tasting water, Coke, or cream. Hmmm. My mouth is pasty and needs something. I finally notice a pot of coffee. Kaitlyn’s mom probably made it this morning before work and forgot to turn it off. I fix it with cream and a lot of sugar so that it’s drinkable. I start to sip it and find that because I am so thirsty I can’t stop gulping it, even though it’s hot. Within seconds, it’s gone.

“Morning.” It’s Amanda; she slept in the spare room. She looks tired and hung-over, and I’m sure I look the same.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Not great, you?”

“I’m a little nauseated and my head is pounding,” I say. “Do you want to wake up Kait or should we just call my brother to come and get us?”

“Let’s call Jer. I don’t want to spend my day here.”

So I call my brother and ask him to pick us up. We leave Kaitlyn a note. She’ll probably sleep until noon anyway.

I know that Amanda and I are going to talk, in detail, about last night’s events, but we both wait until we’re at my place. That way we can sit down, uninterrupted, and chat. Once we say hello to my mom, we head into my room.

I start. “So, how do you feel? Any different?”

“No, not really.”

“Did it hurt?”

“A little bit. It was better than I thought it’d be. He was gentle.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess. Are you guys dating now?”

“We didn’t really say. He said he’d call me today, though. I probably should get home just in case he wants to hang out.”

“Oh, okay.” I am taken aback. I thought she’d spend the day here, which is often what we do together after a night out. “Is someone at your house to pick you up?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Trish.”

When her sister arrives, she says she’ll call me later and keep me posted.

Maybe eating something will make me feel better. My sister is in the kitchen, and offers to make something for me. At the beginning of the summer, she made a ‘menu’ that anyone in the family could order from. Her ‘restaurant’ is called
Sandy’s Café
and the menu items include sandwiches, soup, salad, and cereal. There is no cooking involved, but with the way I am feeling, I will pay the seventy-five cents to be served some Mini-Wheats.

“Are you packed for the cottage?” she asks me as she brings over my order.

Every summer we rent a cottage on Trout Lake for two weeks. I used to love going swimming, hiking, boating, but now I would rather just stay here with my friends. My parents love our cottage time together before they have to go back to work. They only get three weeks off a year, so they cherish these two weeks. We play lots of board games and cards, and even hang out with the people from the cottages around us. Uncle Jack has joined us ever since his wife left him and he, too, treasures this vacation.

“Naah, I still have to do that. What time do Mom and Dad want to leave?”

“I think we’re leaving after supper. I can’t wait! Dad bought a new air mattress for the water, and I have my new fishing rod packed. Dad said we’re going to stop for worms on the way down there.”

The mention of live worms makes me queasy. I pay Sandy for the meal and decide to take a nap before I retch. She has prepared my tab, which has obviously taken a great deal of time. At the top she has written the name of the restaurant with the hours and address. She probably has about twenty different versions of the bill where she can write the order and price underneath. I think she’s only ever used three bills all summer—mainly for Dad, who I think feels bad that she has put so much effort into this restaurant, which no one visits. He usually orders toast and coffee. The funny thing is that the coffee is already made and just sitting in the pot, and she charges fifty cents just to get him a cup—which he takes black.

After I wake up from my nap, Jeremy tells me that Amanda called. I call her back immediately.

She answers on the first ring—she is right beside the phone.

“Hey, just me. Did he call?” I ask, however, judging by the way she answered the phone, I know that he hasn’t.

“No. It’s almost two. Why wouldn’t he have called yet? He said we’d hang out today. Do you think he regrets last night?”

“Of course not. Maybe he’s sleeping. We were out pretty late last night. Or maybe he can’t get the car.” I try to think of reasons that will ease her anxiety, knowing full well that he has not called because he has no intention of hanging out with her today. He may have meant it when he said it, but that was before he had gotten what he wanted from her.

“Hey, did you ask your mom if you’re allowed to come up to the cottage for a few days?”

“Yeah, I did. She says that her brother is coming with his family so it’s not a good time. Sorry, Ton; maybe next year.” I am very disappointed. I know I should be happy to spend time with my family, but I really wanted her to come with me. Kaitlyn works during the week and needs the money, so I know she can’t come. I try not to reveal my discontent. “That’s okay. I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Do you think I should call him?” It looks like we are back to Dan.

We haven’t discussed the fact that I spent the whole night talking to Shane. He’s in eleventh grade, and he’s really nice. He had a girlfriend for almost two years, but
they broke up at the end of the school year. He has a part-time job at Canadian Tire, and I have seen him a few times when I’ve gone there with my dad this summer. We’ve always known each other, but last night was different. We talked all about our futures and our families. Even though he is supposed to have two years left in high school, he has been fast-tracking so he’ll graduate at the end of next year. He wants to go to the University of Toronto to become a rehabilitation specialist. He spent a long time talking to me about that. I told him I want to travel after I finish high school, but after that, I still have no idea. He said that a lot of people decide once they’re in school what they want to be for the rest of their lives. We spoke for what seemed to be half an hour, but in reality was almost four hours. We talked about things I haven’t really talked about with anyone. He asked me if I wanted to see a movie next week. I had to turn him down because I’ll be at the lake, but I said that I would really love to go when I get back. But this is not what Amanda wants to talk about.

“No, I don’t think you should call him. He is probably expecting that. Try and do something so you’re not sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. This is not like you, ’Man.”

“I know. I hate feeling like this. He’d better call or I am going to cut his hairy balls off and shove them in his mouth!”

I start laughing. That’s the Amanda I am used to—always saying something over-the-top and unexpected.

“Hey, I saw you talking to Shane last night. Did anything happen?”

“Yeah, he asked me out. We had a really good conversation. He’s so interesting.”

“That’s awesome. You deserve a good guy like that.” I can sense that she has remembered the fact that Dan hasn’t called her. “Anyway, I’d better go. Sorry again about the cottage. Write me, okay? I’ll check the mail every day. I’m going to start writing you tonight. Have fun.”

“I will. Thanks. And I’ll write soon. Bye.”

I figure I had better get packed, because knowing Dad, we’ll be leaving as soon as dinner is finished. I pack all of the usual things, along with my writing paper, which I know will be well used.