Loved In Pieces (20 page)

Grandma
May
was against me having premarital sex. She was
a
Salish Christian and it was against her
morals
. She said she
loved both her husbands completely, with passion and trust. She said she has lived three completely fulfilled lives.

Her first husband was he
r soul mate. Like her, he was Native American from the Flathead Lake Reservation
who took her as his bride after his wife died in an accident. May’s oldest sister was good friends with his wife. May met him at his wife’s funeral and was ashamed of herself for flirting with him. She said it was love at first sight. A few months later, they saw each other again at a festival
in Polson, Montana
. He asked her out and they married a few months later after she finished high school.  She said making love with him was wonderful, a union of souls. He was a man of passion
though he
had no direction. He roamed from job to job and was kind of lazy, actually.
It was no shock to her that he died while drunk driving.
He was
like
a lion.

Grandma May said that her second husband, Bill, was also her soul mate. He was an educated white guy from Great Falls, M
ontana
. His dad was a doctor. Bill graduated from Montana State in Bozeman and thought he could build a successful dude ranch enterprise. His family owned land in the Paradise Valley right on the
Yellowstone R
iver, so he pitched a business plan to investors and took out a small business loan to build the dude ranch.  He hired an architect from Bozeman but took on the role of superintendent himself
. He helped
build the stables, guest cabins and lodge. Most of the sub-contractors
he hired came from Manhattan, Montana
. Bill
met May when he got
supplies from the
supply and l
umber
c
o
mpany
where she worked.

May said that they didn’t have a romance. Bill didn’t even know she had kids. The project took about a year to complete and during the last month, he told her that he was crazy about her. Bill met her kids. He took them to dinner a few times. May liked him, too, but didn’t think anything would come of it. She was a Native American living
paycheck to paycheck
to raise her kids.

May remembered that Bill’s proposal was a gift from the spirits. Bill came down to the office to pay his final invoice in person. He asked May to lunch and proposed. She was completely taken by surprise
but accepted
. Then they had their first kiss. It wasn’t earth shattering, not like the fire that ignited her with her first husband. But it was nice. And she liked that this man knew what he wanted and clearly saw it through. Bill was a force of nature
—
a man of action and a man of his word. He was
like
a mountain.

Grandma May said that she loves her third life, too. She said it is rich with the love from her five children and her grandchildren. She said she is a river now. Life and love flow through her.

I asked
Dad
, too, to help me figure out where I stood on having sex with men.
Dad
asked me first if I really wanted to know, being my dad and all. He reluctantly said that sex was just sex for guys at my age
—they have little control and last no more than a minute or two—
so I wouldn’t get anything out of it
,
so don’t bother. But I reassured him that I did want to understand and promised that I would not judge him for what he felt.

He said that
his lovely wife,
Celia
,
was like the most prized rainbow trout in any river and he was the fly fisherman. He caught the most beautiful fish, decided to keep it because of its great size and beauty, and it became part of him. It nourished him. Celia gave up part of herself to be with him. She still nourishes him. He has no desire to fish again.

Then he told me he would keep a shotgun ready if anyone hurt me
. He
told me not to have sex until I was married.

“Hey, you’re miles away.
¿Cómo estás?”

I didn’t notice that we were at the valet for the restaurant. “Sorry,” I smiled.

I wasn’t sure if Manuel asked me if I was okay in English or Spanish. He always mixed his languages, like his dad. Manuel’s grandpa was the son of
a
German academic
who fled to Argentina
with his Jewish wife
during the Nazi era
.
I was surprised when I was five years old that
his grandpa
didn’t look at all like what I thought he was supposed to look like.
His grandpa was
handsome,
a
tall, fit
man
over 6’
3
”
with sandy-brown hair and light brown eyes.
My stereotype was shattered,
the first time of many.
I expected him to look like Ira when I heard that he was Jewish, not some
tall, handsome w
hite
guy who looked like a professional
basketball player.
Manuel’s
grandma was Argentinian.
She was a little taller and much wider than me
with
pretty
chocolate
espresso
eyes and long, black hair. She had brown skin, darker than mine.

From
the time
we were five years old to the summer before high school, I spent two
or three
weeks every August with
Dad
, Carlos, Manuel, Janet, and Manuel’s grandparents on a house boat on Lake Powell. The moms, Liz and
Mom
, didn’t come. The dads made it a point not to speak English
. T
hey thought it was a fun challenge.
Dad
spoke Salish and Spanish, Manuel’s grandpa spoke German and Spanish, Manuel’s grandma only spoke Spanish, Manuel and Janet spoke Spanish and German. I felt lame only really knowing English but I tried.

We met up with everyone we ditched on the limo ride at the restaurant. We laughed a ton and reminisced. I even ate dessert. Manuel held my hand on the drive to the dance and told me the gossip about all our friends there. I was surprised
that
so much sex was going on among
st
my
classmates, and Manuel roared with laughter each time I was surprised by some scandal.
I was also surprised that
it was really true that so many girls were getting plastic surgery for thei
r graduation presents.  We both agreed that it was none of our business what people chose to do to their bodies. We both understood that girls felt insecure and should improve their self-esteem. But we
thought their parents
were irresponsible and were sending their girls the wrong message. Girls should not be altering their bodies to
look sexy or
please men.

We arrived at the Getty
mansion and museum
off of the Pacific Coast Highway and parked.

“Wow. That’s a pretty view,” Manuel said as we both got out of the car. The Getty
wa
s like a castle on the
blu
ff
above the PCH,
over
looking the Pacific Ocean. To the south, I s
aw
past the Los Angeles airport. To the north, I
saw
past Malibu.  The large, round orange sun was low on the horizon to the west, casting a yellow orange glow on the water and streaking the thin clouds with purples, reds, and orange colors. It was breathtaking.

“Yeah, it is pretty.” I marveled and paused while I took it in. “This has been such a fun night!” I exclaimed. “And
you
know
how I love the ocean.”

“And you know that I love you and have since I can remember,”
Manuel
said as he slowly took my hand and looked into my eyes.

“And you know that I love you. You’re my best friend.” I pulled him toward
s
me and pressed my lips to his. It was a slow movement at first, but then energy surged from him and he
kissed
me passionately, pressing his body against
mine,
which was pressed against
the Porsche
. Both of his strong arms were around me with his hands between the car and my lower back. It was nice. It was comfortable. I was happy
and loved
. I didn’t
feel a
desire
for
sex
. B
ut I could
kiss him
all night, and we would have a great prom.

We slowly parted and started walking towards the Getty, still holding hands. “I love you, Marie.”

“
I l
ove you, too,” I smiled, feeling
the
pain
of
not knowing where to draw the line.

Camille urged me to self-reflect and make sure I was ready—put my needs first. We role-played speaking up, saying no, telling Manuel
my feelings
.
But making him happy was one of my needs.
I love
d
him. He
wa
s everything to me.
I wanted to
give him a great prom because he deserve
d
to have a wonderful time
. W
e both did
.

“Now let’s go to prom.” I smiled again and
put my arm around his waist
.

We danced and kissed during the slow songs and kissed in the corners of the room. We drank punch and water and laughed with friends. I danced with some guys. Manuel was jealous and
cut
in on each one.
However,
I wouldn’t let him
cu
t in when I danced with
Mitch
, careful not to offend Beth.
Mitch
knew Manuel was jealous and teased him. We had fun.

Alan walked towards us.
There was something off, something wrong. I suspected
ecstacy
, but
I
wasn’t certain which drug.

“You
’re
bailing already
?
” Manuel asked.

“Yeah. My date’s a bitch. You still coming to my pool
party
? I’m not taking the bitch with me. I’m leaving her here,” Alan growled
with glazed eyes and slow speech
. “I need a drink. Dad bought keg
s
and I have plenty
of extra
to play with
. The limo is leaving in ten
minutes. Come soon, would ya?
”

Alan lived north of Montana Avenue, too, about a block away from my house on the South side of San Vicente
Boulevard
. He lived on Georgina Ave
nue
, a lovely street lined with palm trees.
The
view from his pool
deck
was pretty,
too. H
e saw lots of sky and the tops of trees and houses as he looked north
from his patio
. It was peaceful. His dad, Ira, was a kind, generous
man, but he had the strangest r
elationship with Alan’s mom, a sleazy, plastic, shallow snob
. They didn’t divorce out of convenience but they didn’t like each other whatsoever. I
loved Ira but
despised Alan’s mother.

Alan always had
parties
with lots of booze
, drugs, and sex
.
He hire
d
bouncers and treat
ed
his parties as if they were VIP
events
.
The way Alan is at parties with
drugs
is like the way I was
with alcohol
.
N
ervous
and awkward,
I felt like I had to have a drink in my hand at each industry party when I was fifteen and sixteen, during my sophomore year. The drink
s
eased the tension. Many drinks eased a lot of tension.
Unlike Alan,
I didn’t sleep with anyone
or do hard drugs
,
but I certainly kissed a lot of men
and one woman
when I was
a drunk sixteen-year-
old
protected by the best lawyer in Hollywood
.