Forever . . . Read online

  “Day after tomorrow . . . but I’m supposed to take it easy for a week or two after that.”

  “Maybe you’ll come to the beach with us . . .”

  “Maybe . . . the baby leaves on Friday with her adoptive parents . . . I hope she has a good life . . .” Sybil reached for a tissue and blew her nose. I hoped she wouldn’t cry. I already had a lump in my throat.

  “I figure two people who really want a kid will take good care of her . . . don’t you think?”

  “Sure,” Erica said, “it’s the best way.”

  “It’s not like I could keep her . . . that wouldn’t be fair . . .”

  “You’re doing the right thing,” I told her, wondering why she hadn’t thought about all that before.

  “Are you sleeping with Michael?” she suddenly asked me.

  “That’s a very personal question,” I answered.

  She nodded. “I could have had an abortion but I wanted the experience of giving birth.”

  “Could have . . . should have . . .” Erica said, “it doesn’t matter now . . . what’s done is done.”

  “I’ve asked to see the baby one more time,” Sybil told us, brightening. “The doctor said I can give her a bottle tonight . . . I hope they name her Jennifer . . .”

  21

  It was a beautiful, clear night and Michael’s graduation was held outside. I sat with Sharon and Ike and finally met Michael’s parents. His mother took my hand and said, “Well, at last . . . we’ve heard so much about you.” She had red hair and freckles and wore eye make-up.

  His father said, “So you’re Katherine . . .”

  And I told him, “Yes, I am.”

  He had a beer belly and a lot of grayish hair and a nice voice, deep, like a disc jockey’s.

  I choked up when Sybil’s name was called, when Artie’s wasn’t, but should have been, and again when it was Michael’s turn to accept his diploma. I kept dabbing my eyes, pretending I had something in one of them, in case Sharon or Ike were wondering.

  After graduation there was a party at Michael’s, a kind of Open House in the back yard, for his relatives. His mother introduced me to everyone as “Michael’s little friend.” I didn’t much care for that but I wasn’t about to say anything.

  Sharon handed me a glass of champagne. “I hear you’re going to be a tennis counselor this summer.”

  “Just an assistant.”

  “Sounds like fun. I’d love to get away for a while.”

  “What about your trip?”

  “That fell through. I can’t leave my job right now.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  “There’ll be other opportunities . . .”

  I sipped my drink. Some of the bubbles went up my nose.

  Ike said, “I like your hair that way.”

  “It’s the same as always,” I told him.

  “Oh . . . I guess I never noticed.” We each took a little hotdog in a blanket as Michael’s mother passed with a tray. “You’re graduating too, aren’t you?” Ike asked.

  “Thursday night.” I had to answer with my mouth half open because the hotdog was burning my tongue.

  “Well . . . congratulations in advance.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sharon wandered off and an uncle of Michael’s joined us. “I hear you’re going to Denver,” he said.

  I nodded and finished my champagne.

  “Wonderful city . . . plenty of sunshine . . . fresh air . . .”

  “Excuse me,” Ike said, and left me alone with him.

  “You have a lot to look forward to.”

  “Yes, I know,” I said. “You’re not from North Carolina, by chance, are you?”

  “No . . . that’s my brother, Stephen.”

  “Oh.” I looked around for Michael.

  The uncle picked something out of his teeth, examined it, then flicked it off his finger. “So tell me,” he said, “what do you want to do with your life?”

  “Do?” I repeated.

  “Yes . . . you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

  “Sure.”

  “So?”

  “I want to be happy,” I told him. “And make other people happy too.”

  “Very nice . . . but not enough.”

  “That’s all I know right now.” I turned and walked away from him.

  My parents were asleep when Michael and I got to my house. We locked ourselves into the den, took off our clothes and held each other.

  “Let’s lie down on the rug,” I said.

  Michael looked at it. We were used to the sofa.

  “For old time’s sake . . .”

  “Sure,” he said, “why not . . .”

  We stretched out on it, kissing. “Remember the first night we were together on the rug . . . with the fire . . .”

  “And Erica and Artie in the other room . . .” Michael said.

  “Yes . . . and after you left and Erica had gone upstairs I sat on the rug for a while thinking that it was very special . . . that it was ours . . .” I kissed his ears, running my tongue around the edges. I used my hands on his body while I worked my way down, kissing his neck, his chest, his belly.

  “You’re aggressive tonight . . .”

  I hadn’t thought about that until he said it. I was surprised myself. “Do you mind?”

  “I like it.”

  I lay on top of him, feeling Ralph against my stomach. “Can we try it this way?” I whispered.

  “Any way you want,” he said.

  I straddled him, helping Ralph find the right angle, and when he was inside me I moved slowly—up, down and around—up, down and around—until I couldn’t control myself anymore. “Oh, God . . . oh, Michael . . . now . . . now . . .” And then I came. I came before he did. But I kept moving until he groaned and as he finished I came again, not caring about anything—anything but how good it felt.

  “Happy graduation . . .” I laughed. After, we lay in each other’s arms and I thought, there are so many ways to love a person. This is how it should be—forever.

  My graduation was held indoors at the last minute because of a tremendous thunderstorm that began at 4:30 and lasted for hours, on and off. Each senior was allowed only two tickets for an indoor graduation so Michael had to wait for me at home, with Jamie and my grandparents. He didn’t get to see me in my cap and gown.

  We had a party at our house too, with a table full of sandwiches, fresh fruits and a big chocolate gradation cake.

  The next morning Michael and I left for Long Beach Island. We’d been invited to Erica’s house at Loveladies Harbor. It’s a two hour trip from Westfield, straight down the parkway. We took turns driving.

  Erica’s house stands on stilts, right on the beach. From the outside it looks like three boxes—a big one in the middle and two smaller ones on either side. The side of the house facing the ocean is all glass. There’s a large living room with a white tile floor and white wicker furniture with green cushions. Then there are two smaller wings, each with two bedrooms and a bathroom. Mr. and Mrs. Small use one wing for themselves. Erica’s room is in the other. I was sharing with her and Michael’s room was opposite ours. None of us mentioned Artie or the fact that we’d planned this weekend long ago, for the four of us.

  After lunch we walked up and down the beach, tossing a football around. Erica introduced us to all the summer kids—she’s known them for ages. There’s a surfing beach a few miles down, in Harvey Cedars, and we sat there for a while, watching a couple of guys trying to catch a wave. We used up a roll of film posing on their surfboards.

  That night, after dark, most of the kids we’d met earlier dropped by. One girl brought her guitar and sang for us. Some kids smoked grass but I didn’t want to, so Michael drank beer instead, but not enough to get sick. And later, when everyone had gone home and Erica went to bed, Michael and I took a sleeping bag out to the beach and we made love. We woke up at dawn and watched the sun come up together.

  Four days later Jamie and I left for c
amp.

  22

  Wednesday

  June 26

  Dear Michael,

  Here I am at camp! The bus ride up was bad news. The air conditioning broke after an hour and we sweltered the rest of the way. One kid heaved in the aisle so we had to stop and let everyone out while the staff cleaned up the mess. I am considered staff!

  There are 75 campers, all between the ages of 12 and 15 and every one of them is talented in music or art or both, like Jamie. Tennis is the only organized sport here, besides waterfront. The head tennis counselor is called Theo. He told me right off that I will be teaching the kids with less ability.

  The girls live in a big old house and the boys have a sleeping dorm (a converted barn) and the 15 staff members are scattered around. My room is in the house and my roommate is from Seattle. She’s a weaving expert. Her name is Angela and she doesn’t believe in shaving any body hair and thinks natural body smells beat deodorant. Don’t ask!!!

  As soon as we got here, Foxy, the director, called a staff meeting and gave us a big lecture about drugs, which are prohibited. As far as I can tell that’s the only rule.

  To tell the truth, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I wish I was with you. Only 49 days until we can be together. I hope I live that long.

  Love forever,

  Kath

  Friday night

  June 28

  Dear Kath,

  I just got your letter. I read it eight times. I wish I could be your roommate instead of Angela. As you know I have plenty of deodorant. You wouldn’t believe how hot it is here. It’s impossible to breathe. I picked up my plane ticket today. I leave Wednesday night. Yesterday I ran into Erica. We were both ordering sandwiches to go at the Robert Treat Deli. There are a lot of things I would like to tell you but I’m not very good at writing them down. If you were here I’d show you what I mean. I guess you get the picture.

  I miss you so much!

  Love forever,

  Michael

  P.S. Ralph also misses you.

  Monday

  July 1

  Dear Michael,

  I hope you get this before you leave. It rained all day today. This morning I was assigned a co-ed modern dance group. They weren’t bad—I was really surprised. I slept all afternoon and I feel better now. I’ve been so tired since I got here. Do you know it’s been eight days since we’ve been together!!! I’m trying hard not to think about that because every time I do I miss you more and more. I have all your pictures taped on the wall above my bed. Angela says you’re very natural looking. I think that’s supposed to be a compliment. I didn’t tell her that you usually wear eyeshadow and color your hair. Ha ha.

  Yesterday I waterskied and fell down in the middle of the lake. I almost lost my bathing suit. Luckily, only Kerrie was in the boat. She’s Australian and is in charge of water sports with her husband, Poe.

  Jamie says hello.

  Have a safe trip to North Carolina but Do Not talk to any strangers on the plane, especially female ones. And don’t forget that I love you! And that I miss you more than I can say.

  Forever,

  Kath

  July 2

  Tuesday night

  Dear Kath,

  I’m so excited! I wrote an editorial for The Leader and it’s going to be printed in next week’s issue. It deals with senior year. I’ll send you a copy. I’m leaving for the beach tomorrow night for Fourth of July weekend. Sybil’s coming too.

  I ran into Michael at the Robert Treat a few days ago and tonight I saw him at Friendly’s. We had an ice cream together and talked about you. He’s all packed and ready to go. I kissed him goodbye for you—very platonically—on the cheek. I’m going to miss both of you this summer.

  I’m enclosing Artie’s address at the clinic. Michael said you asked for it. I wish I had it to do all over again with him. I’d handle things a lot differently. Oh well—as my mother says, we grow from our experiences. I hope that’s true.

  Have fun.

  Love,

  Erica

  July 2

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  I guess you could say I’m adjusting to camp. Most of the staff is very nice. I like Nan, the photography counselor, best. Theo, the head of the tennis program, calls me Kat, even though I have explained at least a million times that nobody calls me that. I got a letter from Grandma. I didn’t know they were going to Martha’s Vineyard next week. Did Jamie write that she has a new boyfriend? His name is Stuart. If she hasn’t told you don’t let on that you know. She’d kill me! He plays the oboe and has braces on his teeth. I never knew you could play that kind of instrument wearing braces. He’s very good.

  Last night Foxy called a special staff meeting telling us that the emphasis here is supposed to be on friendship, not sex! Don’t worry about Jamie, though. I’m keeping an eye on her. Besides, Stuart is more interested in his oboe than in her.

  See you on visiting day.

  Love,

  Kath

  July 3

  Wednesday

  Dear Kath,

  I’m at the airport waiting to board my plane. Don’t worry about strange girls. I’m scared of them! Oh-oh . . . they just announced my flight. Have to run. I love you. I’m counting the days too. Only 42 more.

  Forever,

  Michael

  P.S. Keep that bathing suit on (until I get back).

  Thurs., July 4

  Dear Artie,

  I’m an assistant tennis counselor at the camp in New Hampshire where my sister, Jamie, goes. It’s not a bad job. The lake is really beautiful, but cold. I hope you’re feeling okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you.

  Your friend,

  Kath

  Friday, July 5

  Dear Erica,

  When you get this you’ll be back from the beach. I hope you had a good weekend. I wish you’d find a nice guy and get Artie off your mind. You can’t go on blaming yourself forever. Remember your vow to get laid before college? Well, I’ve been thinking about that and I’ve decided it might be just what you need. And you know I wouldn’t say that if I really didn’t mean it.

  You should see me. I’m a mess. My nose and forehead are peeling like mad. It’s been very hot since Tuesday and I broil on the courts four hours a day. But that’s better than at night—because at least my mind is occupied. Nights are the worst. You just don’t know what it’s like for me, trying not to think about Michael . . . knowing that we’re going to be apart for so long. It’s pure torture.

  But here’s some good news! My roommate, Angela, the smelly one, has moved in with Zack, the potter. He has a shack on the grounds. So now I have a room all to myself.

  Most of the kids here are okay. There’s just one 15 year old brat I can’t stand. Her name is Marsha. Everyone says she’s a fantastic ballerina but I haven’t seen her dance yet. She’s too busy hanging around the tennis courts because of Theo. When I compare us at 15 to Marsha, I can see that times are really changing . . . and not for the better, in my opinion. I wouldn’t want to see Jamie carrying on like that in two years.

  I’ll say this for Theo—he’s not impressed by silly kids. He doesn’t say much about himself but my friend, Nan, knows that he is 21 and a senior at Northwestern. Nan is impossibly shy around guys but I’m going to try to fix things up between the two of them. He’s not as bad as I first thought.

  Time for supper now. Write soon.

  Love,

  Kath

  July 9

  Tuesday

  Dear Kath,

  We had a great weekend at the beach. The weather was perfect. I think I told you that Sybil was coming with us. She’s on another one of her diets but this time with the doctor’s approval. She didn’t want to talk about the baby. I think the whole experience was more than she bargained for.

  Thanks for your suggestions. But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and have decided I don’t want to fuck just for the hell of it. I want it to be special, like you and Mi
chael. So I’m going to wait.

  Theo and Nan sound nice. I’m glad you’ve found some friends. They should help make the time go faster.

  Love,

  Erica

  Thursday, July 11

  Dear Kath,

  Dad and I enjoy hearing from you very much. We’re glad you’re adjusting to camp. It’s been very hot here. Yesterday the air conditioning in the library broke down and we had to close early.

  Let me know if there’s anything you need on visiting day. We’re looking forward to spending the day with you and Jamie. Grandma and Grandpa are off to Martha’s Vineyard for ten days. Erica stopped in the library to say hello. That’s about it.

  Love,

  Mom

  23

  The campers have to report to their rooms at 10:00 every night. Then the staff gets together in the retreat, which is a small cottage with some comfortable furniture. Usually I write my letters there.

  Sometimes, while I’m trying to think of what to say I’ll look up for a minute and catch Theo watching me. He doesn’t get embarrassed and turn away but I do. His eyes are light green and Nan says every time she looks into them she melts. His hair is brown and hangs in his face. On the courts he has to wear a headband to keep it away so he can see the ball. He’s got a moustache that turns down around the corners of his mouth and he’s very tan, including his back and chest, because he hardly ever wears a shirt.

  The other day, Theo, Nan and I were on the dock. I laughed when he took off his socks and sneakers because his feet were so white. So he picked me up and tossed me into the lake. I was wearing jeans and a shirt and I wanted to kill him.

  The truth is, he’s not the wise-ass I thought he was going to be when we first met. He’s very patient with the kids and is even helping me improve my game. Sometimes, after dinner, we play a set or two. He says I’m the only one here who can give him a decent workout.

  One night, during the first week of camp, Theo came over and pointed to my necklace. “What’s it say?” he asked.