"Well, you just harden your heart, girl," I said out loud. "He's got them all fooled. He's not broken-hearted, and he's not feeling the least bit sorry for you."
I thought about the way he'd kissed me, the memory of that kiss filling my body with long-buried anticipation. No, he wasn't feeling sorry for me. He was pure danger, ready to use any trick in his bag to reel me in.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Irving Park Country Day School looks like a Norman Rockwell painting, with red brick buildings, thick white Grecian columns, and green sodded lawns. Even the students seem to have stepped off the canvas, with one lonely exception. Sheila was sitting in the middle of the front lawn, her long straight hair falling across her shoulders and hiding her face. Her shoulders were slumped miserably over her crossed legs. She was all alone.
She hadn't seen me pull up. I took advantage of that, and sat watching my belligerent baby. Life in Daddy's world wasn't turning out to be the piece of cake she'd been hoping for. Girls walked past her in little groups of twos and threes, all chatting amongst themselves, never saying a word to Sheila. I had my hand on the door handle, ready to run up to her, when he arrived.
Keith, the miserable slob, pulled up in a brand new red 4Runner. At first, I didn't want to believe it was him. I just knew he couldn't afford a snazzy vehicle like that. But there was no mistaking Keith. He pulled up in the circular drive, clearly in violation of the sign that said BUSES ONLY, and jumped out of the driver's seat.
"Sheila!"
At the sound of her name, Sheila's head jerked up like a marionette's, and her sullen frown was replaced by a broad smile. Clearly she'd forgotten that I was supposed to be picking her up, not this baboon.
I stepped out of my car and started walking toward the happy couple. What did she see in him? This was not going to be a pretty confrontation. Sheila, wasn't going to be happy to be hauled off by her mama. I tried to put myself in her place, to remember what it was like to be sixteen and in love for the very first time.
His name had been Tony, and my mama hadn't liked him worth a flip. A flat-topped greaser, Mama had seen right through his smooth line of talk.
"Honey, that boy's nothing but bad road and foolish decisions," she'd said. But I didn't listen. That's the thing about adolescent hormones and bad-picker genes, you can't hear the voice of reason when you're walking down the road of desperate love. It'd been desperate love with Tony. He was gonna be my ticket out of the reality of my daddy's drinking. Trouble was, Tony was just like Pa, only mean to boot.
I saw that same desperate look in Sheila's eyes.
Keith was her key to salvation. It wouldn't matter so much that Vernell had gone back to drinking full-time or that her Uncle Jimmy was dead, or that the girls at Irving Park looked right past her when she entered the room. Keith was gonna fix all that.
"Hey, sweetie," I said, breezing right up between them. "You must've forgotten that I was picking you up." I didn't give Sheila a chance to answer. "Keith," I said, turning to him, and trying not to stare at the fluorescent pink dog collar around his neck. "I hate for you to have ridden all this way for nothing."
Sheila started to protest. "Mama!" Her mouth puckered up into a pout, ready to do battle. But Keith interrupted.
"Sheila!" His voice cracked like a whip, and I found myself staring at him. It was the tone of an angry parent. "That's your mom you're being disrespectful to." Then his face softened and he turned to her. "Sweetie, we've got all the time in the world. You don't hardly get to see your mama. You girls go on and shop or whatever. I'll be around."
Sheila melted, but my insides froze up. It was like listening to Tony in the old days. He had her wrapped around his little finger. Telling her what to do and giving us permission to leave him. Why the nerve of that sleaze! You girls go on and shop…
Sheila got all mushy-faced and melted into his arms. He kissed her, then pushed her gently away. "Go on. I got band practice anyway." Then he looked at me. There was no mistaking the fact that he was angry. He smiled, but his dark brown eyes were smoldering.
"Y'all have a nice time," he said. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small wad of money. "Here, sweetie," he said, turning back to Sheila. "You might see something you want." He peeled off a couple of bills and stuffed them into Sheila's hand. They were twenties. He wanted me to know it, too. It was like he was marking his territory.
"Gotta run," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "'Bye, Keith." I walked away, willing myself not to run back and slap the boy. If Sheila even thought I didn't like Keith, she'd love him all the harder, and that was one thought I couldn't stomach. No, best to let time take its toll and hope she came to her senses.
Sheila sailed over to the VW, adrift on a cloud of adolescent love. She waited until we were on our way down the drive before she roused herself enough to speak.
"Isn't he just awesome?" she asked.
"Uh-huh," I muttered. Just awesome. "How's he come to have so much money?" I asked.
I could feel Sheila's eyes boring into the side of my head. I'd said the wrong thing, as usual, with her.
"Well, not from dope dealing, if that's what you're thinking!"
"I wasn't thinking anything," I said, keeping my voice cool and even. "I just wondered. I don't know a lot about him." Except that I knew he'd been arrested for dope dealing once; that much I'd learned from one of my neighbors.
"Mama!" Sheila sighed in exasperation. "I told you before, he's got a regular job. You just don't like him because he loves me and you don't think he's good enough for your only daughter. It's textbook classic, Mama. You've got empty-nest syndrome, and you're probably pre-menopausal."
"What!" I ran into the parking lane of Bryan Boulevard, swerving back up onto the pavement, but not without spewing gravel.
"Oh, Mama. Really. I'm almost seventeen. We can talk about these things. Miss Dominick, my psychology teacher, says it's quite normal at your age for you to be clinging to your children and trying to recapture your youth. That's why you're doing this stupid country band stuff."
It was a reflex. My hand shot out and I swiped the top of her head.
"Ow, Mama! That hurt!"
She thought I was playing. She did not realize how close she was to extinction.
"How old is little Miss Dominick?" I asked.
"She's young. That's why we all like her," Sheila said. "She knows what's happening. Not like some old, dried-up prune."
"Well," I said, "let me just tell you a thing or two." I was losing it, I knew, but man, it felt good. "I am thirty-four years old, Sheila, and I am hardly in danger of losing my mind, my body, or my hormones. I do not have empty-nest syndrome or any other syndrome, as you call it. I do, instead, have a life and I have a right to that life, no matter how much you disapprove. Maybe you should go back to little Miss Dominick and talk to her about daughters who have a hard time letting their mothers have lives!"
Sheila eyed me like I was a mistaken kinder-gartener. "I don't have trouble with you leading an appropriate life, Mama," she said coolly. "But wearing miniskirts and jumping around on stage at your age is embarrassing. And I have my own life. Keith and I are very serious, Mama."
Those last few words struck fear into my very soul. "What do you mean, very serious, Sheila?" Oh Lord, did we need to see a doctor about birth control? That creep!
"He wants me to marry him, Mama."
"You aren't old enough, Sheila."
"You married Daddy when you were eighteen!"
"That was different." I regretted the words as soon as they'd left my lips.
"Why?"
"Because I didn't have what you have, Sheila. I didn't have college money sitting in the bank, or a chance to make more of myself. I needed your daddy, at least, that's what I thought. But it wasn't true. I didn't need him." I was failing at this, I knew.