What Kind of Love? (2 page)

I know I wasn't very cool, but I'm the one who should be mad. He said we wouldn't do it if I didn't want to.

And I was right about the Sarah person. She was coming on to Peter all night. When I said something about it to him, he laughed and tried to brush it off, but I wouldn't let it go. He pulled me to him in front of everyone and kissed me really hard. “Do you think she saw that?” he whispered.

I don't care whether she did or not. She better keep her hands off him!

What if he doesn't call me? What if he calls her? I don't know what I'll do. He has to call me. Please let him call me. Please.

Sunday, June 16

I didn't think things could get worse after what happened at the beach Friday, but yesterday was awful. I got up, and first I had this fight with Mom about staying out late with Peter, and then she starts on why I didn't clean the bathrooms this week or finish dusting the house. “Just because you have a boyfriend doesn't mean that you're not a member of this family anymore.” According to her, I am not practicing the violin enough or doing my share around the house.

Daddy chimed in, saying, “I don't know why we're paying that character Mrs. Rykoff for your violin lessons when you don't practice. Do you realize how much those lessons cost, Val? Even electricians don't make that much an hour.” I know my lessons cost a lot. He doesn't have to keep reminding me. I wish I could get a scholarship so they didn't have to pay for them.

What really bugs me is that when one of them gets on my case, the other one feels like they have to, too. There's no use explaining that I didn't have time to practice or do the cleaning last week because I had finals. It's not fair! I'm not the only one in the house who uses the bathrooms, and I don't know why I always have to be the one to clean them. I'm so tired of her getting on me about Peter. Well, maybe she won't have to worry about him anymore.

But the worst thing was, I blew my solo. I didn't come in on time and I fouled up the whole orchestra. And what made it really awful was that everyone was at the concert, including Grannie Larch and Aunt Maria and Uncle Brian. I wanted to run off the stage and hide, but I had to stay there and keep on playing. I couldn't escape. I thought I was going to burst into tears right in front of everybody.

After the concert, Aunt Marie and Uncle Brian told me they didn't even notice. They were just saying that because they're my family. Mr. Vanderhoeven wouldn't even look at me. He'll probably put me back in the third chair next year! I'll never get to play another solo. Never. All I wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed, and die. Mom and Daddy wouldn't let me, though. Mom said she wasn't going to let me make too much of it. Everyone messes up sometimes. They made me go out with them to the Old Vienna for coffee and dessert. Half the kids in the orchestra were there with their parents, including Peter and his mother. I don't know how Mom could do that to me—it was so humiliating. I hate her!

Monday, June 17

I knew he'd come back. I knew it! Peter was waiting outside to walk me to school this morning. We didn't have a chance to talk because Nick was with us. But he gave me this incredible tape and a card.

My lusts usurp the present tense

And strangle Reason in his seat.

My loves leap through the future's fence

To dance with dream-enfranchised feet.

Val, that is how you make me feel. I'm sorry I got carried away and scared you. I scared myself, too. The smell of you drives me crazy. I love you, dear beautiful, fragile Valerie.

I can't stand fighting with you, Peter. I love you. I lie in bed at night and dream of being with you, of feeling you against me. I can hardly keep from touching you when we see each other. It's scary. It's like I can't control myself.

Peter came over this evening and we decided that since we're going to keep doing it, we're going to have to start using protection. Peter didn't want to talk about it at first, but I said we had to. “We have to do something if we're not going to stop,” I said.

And he went, “You said you didn't want to do it.”

And I said, “I love you, Peter, and I want you to love me—but I'm afraid we'll get AIDS or something.”

He thought that was funny. “You're not going to get AIDS from me,” he says. “There's no way I could have it.”

“But I could get pregnant,” I said. That stopped him. He looked like he'd just been struck by lightning. I wanted to tell him I missed my period. Since we just got back together, though, I thought it would be better not to say anything until I know for sure.

He said he'd get some condoms, but he wants me to go on the Pill.

Tuesday, June 18

I got a job at the nursery! I saw the Help Wanted sign on the way home from my lesson, and I went in and applied. I think Mrs. Ikura gave it to me because Daddy's such a good customer. I can't wait to tell him.

Mrs. Ikura was really nice. I told her I was going to a wedding in Chicago and I wouldn't be able to come in to work next week. She said it was okay. I could start when I got home. Mrs. Ikura wants me to learn the names of all the plants and the best conditions for growing them so I can answer customers' questions. I think I can get Daddy things there at a discount, too. He's not going to believe it. He'd given up on getting any of us interested in gardening.

I can work thirty-five hours a week or even more, if I want to. I'm going to save at least eighty dollars a week. If I can get eight hundred dollars in the bank by the end of summer, maybe Daddy will go halves on a new bow.

It's funny—after the concert Saturday, I thought I'd never feel the same about the violin again. But I had the best lesson this afternoon. We worked on the Bach I'm going to play with Grandpa Horvath at the wedding rehearsal dinner. My rhythm was better this time. In fact, the whole thing sounded good, and I feel more confident about playing it with him. He's such a perfectionist!

Mom says that I shouldn't mind Grandpa stopping me when I'm playing and telling me to do it over. He's very critical, but he means well. She's sorry she didn't understand that when she was my age. She gave up the cello because she couldn't take his criticism. She thought it was because she had no talent. She didn't realize you need honest feedback in order to improve.

Once I asked her if she was sorry she quit. She laughed and said she didn't think she was ever as good as me, but she enjoyed playing and sometimes wished she had kept up with it.

“Well, you married Daddy and had us and became a secretary,” I reminded her.

She nodded. “That didn't mean I had to stop playing the cello,” she said.

I know you really have to be good to become a professional like Grandpa. But I think that's what I want to do.

Wednesday, June 19

Today we found the perfect dress for me to wear to Cousin Susie's wedding. I wasn't going to try it on because it was a size too big and
way
more than we can afford. But Mom insisted and it fit like a glove. It's gorgeous. Sleeveless, with a boat neck that comes down low in back, in a dusty rose that always looks good on me. I can't wait for Peter to see me in it.

Mom said that since we're already spending a lot of money to go to the wedding, she wants us to look nice. It's going to be a
major
event. Susie's going to have four bridesmaids and Mark will have four groomsmen. And there'll be a flower girl and a ring bearer, too. Grandpa has arranged for a brass choir to play as people are seated. There will be two hundred people at the reception. Daddy says it's costing Aunt Vera and Uncle Bela a fortune.

I'd love to have a big wedding like that. I want to walk down the aisle wearing a gown with a long, long train and lots of lace and tulle that make you look like you are floating in a cloud. But I know Daddy won't go for that. He says Uncle Bela can afford to give Susie a big wedding because he's not in construction and he hasn't been hit by the recession and he didn't have to pay for her to go to college. I suppose I would rather go to college than have a big wedding.

Will Peter and I ever get married, I wonder? I can't imagine loving anyone else as much as I love him. It would be heaven to live with him. Sometimes I daydream about it. I hear his footsteps as he comes home from work in the evening and run to open the door for him, and then he catches me up in his arms and kisses me, really kisses me, so I go all soft, melting into him.

Thursday, June 20

I got a
B
in French, which is better than I expected, and a
D
in geometry, which is
really
bad. I could have had an
A
in French, though, if I hadn't been so distracted that I bombed the final.

I still haven't had my period. It's never been this long before. If I don't get my period by next week, I'm going to take one of those home pregnancy tests when we're in the hotel in Chicago. I can't believe this is happening to me. Mom will kill me.

Showed Mom my report card. “This isn't very good, Valerie,” she said, as if I didn't know already. Then she asked me what I planned to do about the
D.
“It isn't for me—it's for you,” she said.

I feel awful when she talks to me that way. I wish she would just yell and scream. When she asks me what I'm going to do about it, she makes me feel even worse. At least she can't blame Peter for this. She knows I'm more serious about school since I started going with him. He gets mostly A's. He's going to Harvard or Stanford. His parents have been planning for him to go someplace like that for college ever since he was little, and even before that. Peter says it's the only thing the two of them agree on.

Friday, June 21

Hurray! School's out! And the wedding in Chicago is next week. It will be fun, but I wish I wasn't going to be away from Peter. Lately he is all I think about. It is like an obsession. He's in my mind all day. At night he's in my dreams. I really have to try to balance it out. What will I do when he goes away to college?

I'm so wrapped up in Peter, I've been neglecting everybody else. Nick is mad at me. I can tell because he doesn't come and sit on my bed and talk to me like he used to. I know we hardly do anything together since I started going out with Peter, and he probably thinks I don't care about him. I do, though. I know it's weird, because most people hate their little brothers, but I really love Nick. And then there's Carrie. The other day she said straight out she thinks I only have time for her when Peter is busy. I don't know, maybe it's true. But we still have great times together, like today.

Dianne and Carrie and I got a ride over to South Coast Plaza with Dianne's sister. None of us had any money, so we were just looking.

Carrie walked into the hat store and in her terrible French asked the saleslady, “
Avez-vous le nouveau chapeau de Zozo?
” which is a line from a silly song we learned in French class. The lady didn't understand, and Carrie asked her if she had any pillboxes. When the saleslady brought her the hat, she put it on and with a perfectly straight face turned to us to ask, “Vhat do you tink,
mes chéries?
Is dis de one for Pierre?”

I cracked up. Dianne kept whispering to us, “Let's get out of here.” But Carrie wouldn't leave until we tried on every hat in the store.

I saw this really cute shirt at the Limited. I can't ask Mom to buy anything right now because Daddy's business is bad. They are trying to hide it and not scare us kids, but I can tell Daddy's depressed because he's been drinking. Although he's not a drunk or anything, he has been drinking
a lot.
Sandy and I talked about it when she called last week. She said he's always like this when he doesn't have enough work. Still, it worries me.

She's going straight to Chicago from San Francisco and then we'll all fly home together—one big, happy family.

We leave tomorrow. Still haven't gotten it. I'm going to have to get the test. Damn, I'm sharing a room with Sandy. How will I hide it from her?

Oh, please, God, please let me get it before we go.

Tuesday, June 25

The plane made me feel barfy. I hope it's just my stomach and nothing else.

It was a real shock to see Grandma. She's changed so much since the operation. Mom says she's a lot better than she was, but I could see that it was a real effort for Mom not to cry the whole time we were there. I'm going to try and go over to Grandma's every day so I can be with her.

The wedding is Saturday. It's the first time in years that Mom's whole family and all of their kids have been together. We've been to a different house every night for dinner. They all serve this fattening Hungarian food that you have to eat to be polite. I don't think they have ever heard of low fat or low cholesterol in Chicago.

People keep calling me Sandy, even though she's three and a half years older than me and in college and she's beautiful. Now that she's back from school, she's Miss Perfect. She never does anything to make Mom and Daddy mad. I used to hate her because she has Mom's tiny nose and I wish I had it. Mine is like Daddy's and comes straight down from my forehead like the Statue of Liberty's. But Peter thinks it has character. He loves it. Anyhow, I can't understand how people could get us mixed up. We're so different.

I was going to talk to Sandy, but I decided not to. She thinks she knows everything. And she's so bossy to Nick and me—like on Sunday, Aunt Vera was serving dessert and she wouldn't let her give me any. She said I was getting fat. And then on Monday, when I said I didn't want to go window-shopping with her because I wanted to take a nap before dinner, she asked me if I was practicing for the role of Sleeping Beauty. I can't believe I ever missed her. What a bitch!