He suggested I drink some vodka and orange juice that had been prepared.
"Just a little can't hurt us," he said. "They're called screwdrivers. There's nothing like a nice buzz."
Except for the glasses of wine 1 had at dinner with my grandparents from time to time, my experience with alcohol was nonexistent. My grandfather urged my grandmother to let me taste the wine so I would learn my own boundaries in the house, rather than on the streets, as he put it, and she agreed. I enjoyed some of it but far from craved it.
The vodka was so well disguised in the orange juice that I was actually disappointed. Fooled, I drank more, and, after a while, I did loosen up, laughed more and. got into the music. I remember thinking,
I'm having fun. Finally, I'm having fun.
When the first boy was heaved into the pool, Craig looked at me and whispered, "Maybe we should make a graceful, quiet exit. The natives are getting restless."
A part of me wanted to stay and see the silly behavior, but I knew he was being responsible and protective. I nodded, and we slowly slipped around the now boisterous crowd of partygoers and through a side door that led us out of the house. He took my hand, and we hurried through the shadows down to his car.
"Are you all right to drive?" I asked him. I was feeling a little dizzy, and I thought he had drunk the same number of glasses of vodka and orange juice that I had.
"Sure. I'm fine," he said. "The drinks weren't really that strong. I'm not that crazy about drinking too much anyway. I hate hangovers, don't you?"
"I never had one," I said. "I hope I don't have one tomorrow either."
"I doubt it. You didn't drink that much," he assured me.
We drove off. It wasn't that late yet, but even though my grandfather hadn't set down a specific time for me to be home, I knew he and my grandmother would be waiting up for me.
"Are you taking me home?"
"This early? It's not even eleven-thirty," he said. "Besides, I want to show you one of my favorite places," he added, making a turn and then speeding up. A little while after that, he turned into a driveway in the woods and we bounced over a dirt road.
"Where are we going?" I cried, laughing.
"Just a little bit farther," he said, and we came out on the edge of a lake. The sliver of moonlight from a quarter moon threaded through some clouds and sliced the top of the still water, drawing a gold line from one side of the lake to the other. He shut off the engine and nodded at the scene. "Well? Am I right or am I right?"
"It's pretty, Craig. What's out there on the water?" I asked, squinting at some dark blobs gently rising and falling.
"Ducks, I expect, maybe geese."
"I-low did you find this spot? Anyone else would not have noticed that driveway."
"I went fishing here a few times with my father. We have a boat we pull on a trailer hitch."
"Are you very close with your father?"
"Yeah, sorta," he said. "He's a workaholic, so whenever he wants to take off some time, I go. He hasn't been but to one baseball game this year, however. My mother never comes," he said. "She doesn't like the dust and sitting on the hard wooden bleachers. Dainty. Are you dainty?" he asked, turning to me.
"Hardly," I said. "Maybe I should be," I added, and he laughed.
"You realize that now we're really in a car. No pretending on a sofa in an attic. This is the real thing. Does that make any difference?"
"Why should it?" I asked. What was he getting at? I wondered.
"I just want you to be as comfortable with me here as you are up in the attic," he said.
"I'm absolutely fine," I said. Even though I knew he was just teasing me, I didn't like the implication that I had to live in my imagination to be comfortable. I wasn't even sure he knew what he was implying.
"Let's see," he challenged and leaned over to kiss me. His lips moved quickly over my cheek and down to my neck. I felt his hands travel up under my blouse, over my back to my bra clip to unfasten it and then he lifted my blouse. I started to turn away.
"Hey, c'mon," he said. "I hit a real triple this time."
My head was spinning a little more, and suddenly I felt a churning in my stomach. I was uncomfortable as well because of the way he was twisting and turning over me. I had an acidic burn in my throat and then suddenly gagged.
"Are you all right?"
"No," I said and reached quickly for the door handle. I nearly fell out when the door opened, but I got my feet down quickly and put my hand out to rest my palm against the car so I could steady myself. I couldn't help it. I began to throw up. He leaped out of the car and came around to hold me.
"Oh damn," he said. "We ate and drank too quickly maybe."
I shook my head and threw up some more. My stomach ached. It wasn't the speed of drinking; it was how much, I thought. Finally, I settled down and he sat me back in the car.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay. Sorry," I said.
"That's all right. I hate booze actually. I'll have something better next time," he said.
I wasn't listening closely. I was trying to get my head from turning like a top. 1 closed my eyes and lay back on the seat.
"We'll ride around a while until you feel better," he said. "Keep the window down to get fresh air. I don't want to deliver you home like this. Your grandfather will have me strung up or something."
I didn't say anything. He was right, of course. I couldn't walk into the house looking like a mess. We drove out and cruised very slowly back toward Sandburg. After a while, I felt my stomach settle down and my head clear. I fixed my clothing, and then we stopped and I got out and walked a bit.
"I'm okay," I announced. "Really, I'm fine."
"The good thing about vodka," he said, "is you don't reek from it. But that's a no-no from now on," he added. "I have to take care of you. No booze. We have a pretty heavy date coming up."
I got back into the car and he drove me home, apologizing continually.
"It wasn't your fault, Craig. I didn't have to keep drinking that stuff."
"Now, I should have paid more attention to you instead of the idiots around us," he insisted. "Are you sure you're all right now?"
"Yes. Sorry," I said.
"Nothing to be sorry about. I enjoyed being with you."
He kissed me good night when we pulled into the driveway, and then he backed out and I walked slowly to the front door, hoping that my grandparents were at least waiting up in their bedroom so I wouldn't come under close scrutiny. I still had a little headache, and my stomach felt very weak.
I was lucky. My grandfather called to me from the bedroom as I climbed the stairway.
"How was the movie?" he asked. I paused at their door and looked in. Both of them had been reading in bed, probably to keep their minds from dwelling on me.
I saw no reason to lie.
"We didn't go to a movie. One of Craig's teammates had a party to celebrate the team getting into the play-offs."
"Who's that?" he asked.
"Mickey Lesman."
"Oh yeah. First baseman, right?"
"How do you know that?" I asked, amazed
"I follow the team in the papers. Nice party?"
"It was okay. They started to get a little wild, throwing each other into the pool, so Craig decided it was time for us to go."
That was all true.
"Really? Very mature of him. Good," my grandfather said.
My grandmother was just listening to us, looking at me.
I decided to give them everything.
"Craig asked me to be his prom date. I said yes," I told them.
"Prom date, huh? Well now, that's something, right, Elaine?"
"Yes," she said. "That's very nice, Alice. I'll help you find a nice gown. When is it?" she asked, and I gave her the date.
"We're all going to stay out all night and then go to a picnic at Bear Mountain."
"All night?"
"Now Elaine, kids can do that. We did, remember?"
She was quiet.
"I'd just like to know all the details," she said. "I'm sure we will," he told her. "Right, Alice?" "Yes," I said.
"Prom, huh?" my grandfather said. "I remember I looked like a penguin in my tuxedo. I was so stiff in it that I could have been mistaken for a storefront mannequin. I'm sure Craig will look a lot better," he added.
I said good night and went to my bedroom. I didn't realize how tired I was until I lowered my head to the pillow. I barely closed my eyes before I fell asleep. I woke once in the night because of a nightmare in which I heard footsteps above me, and then I slept later than usual the following morning. When I did wake up, I had a dull headache and did the best I could to hide it from my grandparents.
My grandmother was excited about my going to the prom now and talked to me at breakfast about the various dress stores she wanted us to try. Since she had the weekend off, I couldn't very well postpone a shopping safari, even though I felt I could easily sleep away the day. I was more than grateful now to Rachel for showing me how to brighten up my face. It surely needed the makeup, lipstick and eyeliner. My grandfather was going to spend part of his Saturday catching up at his office, so for the first time in a long while, it was going to be only my grandmother and myself.
She couldn't wait to call Aunt Zipporah and give her the news about the prom, however. Before we left, I spoke to her on the phone.
"I never heard Mom so excited for you, Alice."
"I think she's more nervous about it all than excited."
"She's both. That's her job. Is he a nice boy?"
"Yes," I said. "I think so, but I'm not exactly the one to ask about dates and dating."
"Yes, but you have good instincts, Alice!"
"I don't know why everyone thinks that," I replied.
"Don't be down on yourself, honey," she warned me. "One thing about your mother was she never let anyone look down at her. She could stand up to the best of them. In fact, I used to depend on her to protect me most of the time."
"Did she date much before . . . before it all happened?"
"Not much," she said. I thought she sounded as if she was withholding information, however. "We weren't much older than you are. I'm sure she would have been queen of the hop if . . . if things had been different."
"Was she planning on going to college?"
"Oh yes, we talked about it. We decided we would apply to the same schools and neither of us would go to any school that didn't accept us both. We took an oath, remember?"
"The birds of a feather oath," I recited.
"Yes," she said with sadness.
"How did that go again?"
"We'll be friends forever and ever and we swear to protect and help each other as much as we would help ourselves."
"That's a nice pledge," I said. "I hope I find someone who will take it with me."
"You have," she said.
"Who?"
"Me," she said. "Always."
I thanked her, and we talked for a little while about the upcoming summer and some of the plans she and Tyler had for the cafe. They were going to develop a new summer menu. My grandmother called for me to get ready for our shopping trip, and I had to hang up.
"I wish I was there with you. It's so exciting," Aunt Zipporah said.
I was excited but also still very unsure about it. I knew I would be on an even bigger stage soon, and I couldn't help worrying about it.
On the way to the stores, my grandmother talked about her first prom. I was keen on listening to her description of her boyfriend and asked her how much she had liked him.
"Oh, when you're your age, Alice, you're always in love."
"How are you supposed to know whether it's more than just a crush or not?"
She nodded. "It's a good question. I suppose the answer lies in the idea that love is more substantial, more complex. You're not only physically attracted to someone but you can see yourself spending forever with him, day and night. That's a bigger thing "
"So maybe people do have to live with each other first," I muttered.
"Well, I wouldn't advocate that."
"Why not?" I pursued, suddenly sounding more like Rachel than myself.
"The more of a commitment you make to someone, the harder it becomes to back away. You have to--"
"I know, go slowly."
"Exactly," she said. "Go slowly."
"Did you?" I dared ask, again with Rachel's tone. She glanced at me. "You didn't ask your grandfather that, did you?"
"No. Why?"
"He'd tell you something like I went so slowly in our relationship, he was having breakfast while I was still having dinner."
She laughed, and I smiled and thought,
This is wonderful.
For the first time, I really did feel like her granddaughter. She wasn't afraid to share intimate things with me. Getting out and casting off the dark shadows I had become too comfortable wearing was the best thing I had done after all.
For the remainder of our day together, we were truly more like mother and daughter, even like two sisters, just the way she was with my aunt Zipporah, laughing at some of the dresses I tried on and consulting closely on every possible aspect of my complete prom outfit. She described her own prom gown to me and even went into details about the evening and how exciting it had been for her,
"Of course, we didn't stay out all night, despite what your grandfather might imply about how we were when we were your age. But I suppose we have to bend a little with the times," she added. "Just be sure I know where you'll be and when, okay?"
"Yes," 1 promised.
Some of the dresses we considered were very expensive, I thought, but she didn't seem to care about price. In the end both of us liked a peacock gown with a strapless sweetheart neckline and a layered split tiered tulle ball gown skirt with beads.
"I have the perfect necklace to go with it," my grandmother said, "and matching earrings."
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and bemoaned my short hair, because the picture we saw in the magazine of gowns in the store had a girl wearing it and the girl had her hair beautifully done up with a bun at the top and strings down the side.
"I have an idea," my grandmother said, seeing my unhappiness over my hair. "Don't worry. Let's get your shoes first."
After that, she drove me to a hair salon, where they had hair pieces that would match my color. The stylist she knew sat me in a chair and worked on it until I was amazed at the difference in my appearance.
"Now you're truly complete," my grandmother said. "You make me wish I was your age again."
She hugged me and I thanked her.
How perfect the world suddenly seemed.
It truly made me feel as if I had found a safe place, a fortress of happiness. Slowly, with less and less hesitation, I was lowering the drawbridge, unfolding my arms and holding them out to welcome the world, to invite it to come in.
And then those angry shadows that had followed at my heels all my life pushed everything else aside and galloped over the bridge to sack and pillage my joy and delight and get themselves some sweet revenge.