"What happened to your driving lesson?" she asked.
"He canceled because of the weather. He said I wasn't prepared yet to drive in such a torrential downpour, which is what Trevor got caught in when he got out to push the call-box button," I emphasized.
"Okay, okay, enough of that," she said, standing. Then she smiled. "One more surprise. I have a music teacher, Mr. LaRuffa, coming to begin your piano lessons. He'll be here at seven-thirty on Saturday."
"Seven-thirty in the morning on Saturday?"
"No, in the evening. I'd like to watch, and he's agreed to the day and time. You have nothing else to do," she added. "Right?" she asked, her eyes scrutinizing my face. It wasn't a question as much as an order.
I thought about Trevor and his hope I could invite him over. With what had happened and with this, that idea was out the window. He might be gone as well, and I couldn't blame him.
"You don't look happy about it, but when I men
tioned it before you were very excited. You said you always wanted to learn how to play the piano."
"I'm happy about it. Yes. It has been something I've wanted to do for a long time. My mother used to play for us, and she could play well."
"Oh? You remember that vividly, do you?"
"Yes. Even the music. She played every night after our dinner. My brother and I would sit and listen."
"Brother?"
"I mean, my sister."
She smiled. Why was it so important for her to correct me all the time? I thought.
She took a deep breath and smiled.
"Okay, wonderful. Now, let's keep all this business with Trevor Foley from Wade. He doesn't have to know. It will just make him nervous and turn him into a nagging nanny or something. Okay? Secrets, remember? The glue that binds two friends together is how they share and keep their secrets."
"Both Mrs. Cukor and Mrs. McAlister saw Trevor here," I reminded her.
"That's all right. They won't say anything. You don't last in this house if you gossip about anyone in it. They both know that." She patted me on the knee and got up. "I'll leave you to do your homework. I know how serious you are about all that. We're going to another special place for dinner this Friday night, too, so put that on your calendar. Wade won't be coming. He has some stupid pipe or bolt and nut convention to attend. How grown men can sit around and talk about fittings and new tools is beyond me, but men are another animal altogether, aren't they?"
She walkedto the door, where she paused a moment and then turned.
"I'm not saying Trevor Foley isn't a goodlooking boy or someone who doesn't come from a fine family, but he is a boy with raging hormones. It's the age. For women like us, beautiful and special, they are like bulls seeing red. It takes some grace and clever maneuvering to avoid getting gored, if you know what I mean? I'll see about those pills," she added, and then smiled. "OW she said, laughing and turning like a matador avoiding a charging bull. Then she left me staring after her in more wonder than ever.
I envisioned Trevor standing before me just after he had kissed me, and in my secret heart of hearts, I wished I would need this pill. The very thought of it brought blood to my cheeks and heat to my neck, but despite the warnings and the horrors Ami had described, I couldn't help enjoying the fantasy. Maybe she was right about one thing. Maybe I, like any girl my age, could be my own worst enemy.
True to her word, Ami kept the incident with Trevor a secret from Wade. When at dinner he asked her about picking me up after school, she went into a long description about how hard it was to drive back in the downpour and how she had called the driving instructor to tell him to postpone the lesson until I had more experience at the wheel. Wade listened without expression, but when he looked at me, I was unable to hold his gaze. He knew she wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't challenge her story.
When two people learn to accept each other's lies, do they grow closer or further apart? I wondered. It was surely one thing to tolerate each other's weaknesses and yet another to endure each other's deceptions. At the orphanage we were often generous with each other when it came to lies. They were more like wishful thoughts anyway. Girls would invent a past or a reason for their being alone in the world, a reason we all saw through--at least, I often did--but we didn't challenge them. Sometimes, I thought, we wrap ourselves in illusions and fantasies to keep us safe from cruel realities. Surely there is nothing terrible about that. I was positive that in her mind, Ami thought her lies were good, good for all of us.
Wade, on the other hand, looked like someone who didn't need or rely on lies. He had few illusions and made no excuses for himself or even for Ami, and especially not for his father. Some people accepted the darkness in life and did nothing to deny it. Did that make it impossible for them to ever be happy'? Maybe, but happiness appeared to be something Wade had long ago lost hope of having, at least in the sense of it Ami had.
What would make him happy? I wondered. Did Ami really care? Did he want the child they originally claimed they would have, which she told me she wasn't in any rush for? Did he know that?
It suddenly occurred to me that I might be another way for her to postpone her motherhood, that she was using me and might continue to use me to that purpose. I hoped that wasn't true. Wade would certainly come to despise me if it were so, I thought.
He caught me alone just before I went up to my room to finish my homework.
"How did you really get home today?" he asked with a smile of anticipation.
For a moment I thought I would just confirm all Ami had told him, but I saw clearly that he wouldn't believe it for a moment, and he wouldn't let me get away with any lie.
"A boy I met," I told him quickly.