Part 25 (1/2)

I don't want to spend the rest of my life doing something that makes me miserable. Not even if it means drowning in money.” Suddenly it got very difficult to choke down my soggy cereal. ”Look. I promise I'll be okay, no matter what. Cheer up. Maybe I'm just a late bloomer, and there's a mercenary lurking somewhere deep inside me after all.”

It Wasn't That Funny But it did make both of them smile long enough for me to escape. What I didn't tell them, and have no idea how I will, is that I'm thinking about taking a semester or two off school. There's a theater conservatory I might look into. Or maybe I'll get a job, an apartment. Chill for a year or so, until I figure out exactly what it is I want to do. Become. G.o.d, the harder they push me to ”become” something, the more I want to dig in my heels and just be whatever it is I am. And what I am right now is once again running late. I've got tickets for the ballet tonight. Thought I'd surprise Jenna. I told her to dress up. Hope she listened. And I hope she's ready.

She Isn't, Of Course I call her as I pull into the driveway.

More and more, I try to avoid relating to either one of her parents.

”Hey. Ready to go? You wore a nice dress, right?” I hear m.u.f.fled voices in the near background.

I'll be out in a minute, she huffs. Then, to the m.u.f.fled voices, Can I please go now? Andre is waiting for me! Garbled responses. I promise.

I don't know... Wait...

And to me, What time will I be home?

The performance starts at eight. Two hours makes ten o'clock. ”Around eleven, I guess.” Suddenly they care?

It is another several minutes before she exits the house, teetering down the walk in some extremely tall-and hot-heels.

She s.h.i.+mmies into the car, pushes down into the cush leather.

G.o.d. Unbelievable. Let's go, before Patrick changes his mind and makes me stay home.

I back out of the driveway, noticing the length of her almost nonexistent skirt. ”Wow. Short dress.” Hope her top is covered better. Can't tell because of her jacket, but my guess is, no.

I'm afraid she'll draw more attention than the ballerinas. That's my girl.

I'm almost used to it. ”So, what's going on?”

She pulls a familiar flask from her pocket.

Takes a long drink. I love peppermint schnapps. Her voice is husky, slow. Want some? I decline, and she takes a drink for me. For some asinine reason, Patrick decided he needed to play Daddy tonight. He called a family meeting. First, he accused Kendra and me of stealing Mom's Xanax.

Then he said there are new house rules about going out, and how they want to know who we're going with, where we're going, and when we'll be home. I bet he starts checking out our rooms and stuff too.

Considering she's sitting here, sucking down alcohol, maybe he's got a point. ”Did you take your mom's Xanax?”

Maybe a couple, she admits. Just to get me through the wedding stuff. Who knew Mom'd actually keep track?

The Girl Has No Shame It's one of her better qualities. But it also makes me worry about her. And us. ”Xanax is expensive. Why wouldn't she keep track? But the bigger question is, did you take one tonight? Xanax and schnapps don't mix well.”

How would you know? I kind of like the way they mix.

She laughs. In fact, they mix perfectly.

This is going to be an interesting evening.

”Jenna, please be careful.

People die every day from drug interactions....”

She flips. Don't worry about me! I am completely in control.

Anyway, why do you care what I do?

”Because I love you, G.o.dd.a.m.n it. You're supposed to worry about people you love. Don't you get it?”

She Does Not Respond For a long while. Finally she says, I don't believe in love. Not sure it really exists, but even if it does for some people, it won't for me. She is serious.

Then she lightens up.

But, hey, if you think you love me, cool.

My turn not to know what to say. I exit the freeway, thread through a maze of side streets, park a few blocks away from the theater. We get out of the car, and I go around, take Jenna into my arms. ”I do love you.

Not always sure why. But you are unique.

Exceptional, in so many ways. Why do you think love will never come to you? It already has.” I kiss her, as sweetly as I know how, hoping she will believe love has found her.

Finally She Wiggles Free No acknowledgment. No reciprocal declaration. Just, Okay. Where are we going, anyway?

It's so Jenna, I can't even get mad.

”The San Francis...o...b..llet is in town. Ready to soak up some culture?”

The ballet? Are you kidding? Her inflection gives away nothing. Surprise?

Disgust? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I guess. She takes my arm, struts toward the theater, drawing the usual stares from pa.s.sersby, and a catcall from some derelict-looking guy. Luckily, we don't have to walk all that far. But then, when we get inside and she takes off her jacket, my worst fears are confirmed.

Her V-necked top hides nothing. She pulls every eye, and not just the guys'. Our seats are in the balcony, front row.

Great view. Jenna actually seems excited to be here. It's a special performance of The Little Mermaid.

I figured the story would be familiar enough to make the dance enjoyable for Jenna. But, not quite forty minutes into the program, I look over to find Jenna asleep. Xanax and alcohol. A knockout combination. She rouses when the lights come up for intermission. Guess I dozed off. Sorry. But this stuff is just so boring. You don't like it, do you?

Why did I expect anything different?

”Actually, I don't like it.

I love it. Sorry you don't feel the same way.”

Cara

Did I Expect To learn something new, walking the same old avenues? Did I believe I'd find surprises under the pillow my head rests on every night-an extension of myself?

Change doesn't come without invitation.