Raspberry Crush (32 page)

Billy desperately wanted to shield her aunt from the pain of dredging up her relationship with Ted again. Ideally, she would also like to avoid telling Pen about Ted's death until she could offer her a better understanding of Ted's past, and how his leaving was in no way a reflection on her. And who better to turn to for details than the self-proclaimed expert on Aunt Pen's life, Billy's mother—a.k.a. the Great Truth Teller.

Unfortunately, Adrienne was too transfixed by Judy—too torn between gazing with adoration and taking notes like a maniac—to notice. Next to her was Corryn, lazily sitting in her chair, resting her cheek in her hand, almost looking like she needed it: to prop her up. (On a side note, Roynald Membrano was sitting on the other side of Corryn, looking lovesick.)

"Today we're going to delight in the wondrousness of fresh
herbs
," Judy said, standing in front of the room, talking like a Stepford chef, and making a point to pronounce the H in "herbs."

"Now, can we have one or two volunteers come up front and try to guess which
herbs
are which? I've laid several
herbs
out on the table. Who will come up?" Predictably, Adrienne flapped her hand with rabid enthusiasm. "Roynald, how about you?" Possibly Judy noticed Roynald looking at Corryn instead of her, and felt like putting him on the spot as punishment.

"Yes, all right," he said, flashing a tremulous smile at Corryn, who smiled mildly in return.

"And Roynald needs a partner..." Judy said.

Billy expected Adrienne to jump out of her seat, and actually to vault over Judy's head like a leapfrog to get in front of the class, but instead she turned to Corryn and whispered loudly, "You go, too. Go up with Roynald. C'mon, go!" Corryn looked irritated as hell, probably because Adrienne's idea of whispering needed work, especially when it was laced with desperation. "Corryn, go up there!"

"No," Corryn hissed under her breath.

"Come on, he likes you!" Adrienne went on, making superobvious motions with her head. "Go up there!"

"Mom, stop it!" Billy whispered from behind, and Adrienne heaved a martyred sigh, followed by an
I try so hard
shake of her head. Corryn stayed planted in her seat.

After Roynald and another student guessed three out of the six herbs correctly, they were appropriately patronized by the grande dame, and sent back to their seats. Then Judy went behind the counter to finish making soufflés, using the basil, thyme, and rosemary.

As soon as Roynald left to use the bathroom, Adrienne turned back to Corryn. "He's a nice boy; why don't you talk to him? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with
me?"
she asked incredulously.

Leaning forward, Billy jumped in. "Get off her back, Mom. She doesn't like him that way. It's none of your business who she likes anyway!"

"I'm her mother!"

"Yeah, don't remind me..." Corryn mumbled under her breath.

Adrienne's eyes shot over. "Well, I think that was a very
mean
thing to say. Corryn, you're mean, you're rude, and you're nasty."

"So I'm your clone, then?"

"Oh, stop, both of you!" Billy whispered. They looked back at her, both fuming. In some ways they were so alike. Neither could let anything go, and when they got frustrated they both looked like these tiny brunette fireplugs about to explode. "Corryn, just ignore her."

"But she's—"

Billy cut off her sister's protests. "And Mom, stop being a martyr. Stop butting in and pushing her on Roynald, who you claim is a nice guy, but who shut the elevator doors on me the first day of class, so as far as I'm concerned is subhuman. Now both of you just shut up!"

"Herbs
really add delectable texture to any dish, as well as voluminous layers of rapturous flavor," Judy went on, as she greased ramekin cups for the soufflé, and Billy tried to get her mom's attention again. But now Adrienne was giving her the silent treatment. Billy could only assume it was because she'd taken Corryn's side. "Psst, Mom," Billy said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.
"Mom!"'

"Oh, what is it?" she asked, sounding irritated as she angled her head back.

"Remember how you showed me that picture of Aunt Penelope with that ex-boyfriend of hers, Ted?"

"Yes."

"Well, do you know if, when they were dating, he ever mentioned marriage?"

Adrienne scoffed. "If they did, it obviously didn't amount to a hill of beans. He left her, and, as you know, Penelope never married."

"Right," Billy said, stifling a scream, "but what I meant was, did he ever mention
being
married? In the past?"

"Well, how should I know what they talked about? Penelope's not the most open person in the world."
She's not?
"In fact, if you want to know the truth, I always felt like she looked down on me."

Oh, please—she did
not
have time for this. "Uh-huh, that's a shame, but back to Ted's background—"

"It was like she always thought she was just a little bit
better."

"Mom, can you please focus here?"

"Miss Cabot!"

Billy jerked to attention as Judy scrutinized her under scolding eyebrows. "Apparently you're an expert on chiffonades?"

"Um... no. No, I'm not."

"Well, you must not need instruction," Judy continued smugly, "since you feel perfectly content to talk in my class. Perhaps there's something you'd like to share with the rest of us?"

"No, I'm sorry," Billy stammered, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment because all eyes were on her. On primal instinct, she turned to her mom for some sort of support or feeling of protection. What she got instead was disapproval, but at least Corryn had the decency to look back and bite her lip in sympathy.

"Now, everyone pair up," Judy said to the class, just in time for Roynald to return from the bathroom (with a tiny scrap of toilet paper stuck to his heel). "Everyone pick a partner," Judy reiterated, and Roynald's eyes darted straight to Corryn at the word "partner."

Oh, no.
Billy had to protect her sister this time. "Come on, Corryn; be my partner," she said quickly, and grabbed her hand.

"Thank you," Corryn whispered on a giggle as they headed to the kitchen area.

"But wait..." Adrienne floundered.

"See ya later, Mom," Corryn said over her shoulder.

"Where are you two going?" Adrienne called after them as Roynald came closer. "Maybe the four of us can all work together."

Never gonna happen.

When Billy glanced back, she saw her mom and Roynald heading to a station together. She smiled at Adrienne and waved.

* * *

"Do you have anything without aspartame?"

The girl behind the counter at the tiny frozen yogurt shop, with a perpetually drooped-open mouth and a glazed, vacant look in her eyes, just shrugged.

"Mom," Billy said, leaning restlessly on the counter, "if you want it sugar-free, then probably not."

"Yeah," Corryn said, gently licking her cone. "Come on, Mom—live a little."

Adrienne paused, haplessly scrutinizing the chalkboard menu yet again before throwing her hands in the air and expelling a breath. "Oh, why not?" she said with a laugh. "I'll have what they're having." That was pretty major for her, considering that Billy and Corryn were both having large cones of Dutch chocolate with rainbow sprinkles. As it was, if it weren't for the concept of "bonding," Billy doubted her mother would even have agreed to stop at the dingy little frozen yogurt shop on Comm. Ave. after class.

The girl behind the counter, whose dim expression still hadn't changed, turned to make the cone, and Billy tapped her mom affectionately on the arm. "I'm proud of you, Mom. It won't hurt much, I swear."

Once they were all seated in a hard, plastic booth in the corner, Corryn grinned and said, "So, Mom, how was working with Roynald tonight? Is he still your new best friend?"

Billy laughed.

"Well..." Adrienne began, licking her cone as a form of a pregnant pause. "He's a very nice young man...." Another pause. "But, uh..."

"Yeah?" Corryn pressed with a glint of laughter in her eyes. Their mom was stalling, and it was painfully clear.

"Well... I changed my mind. I think maybe he's not right for you, Corryn." She looked from one daughter to the next, then said, "To be honest... you were right. I suppose he
is
kind of a dud."

"Kind of?" Corryn said, shooting an incredulous look at Billy.

Then Adrienne giggled—
giggled
—and said, "And he's a little strange, too!"

"A
little
?" Corryn said.

Billy laughed, then said, "Mom, why do you think he's strange? What did he do?"

"Oh, my God, he couldn't stop asking me questions. 'Do you like cooking? Do you like our teacher? Do you like soufflés? What's your favorite number?' " She waved her hand through the air. "Oh, please, he was driving me
crazy
! Then I asked him what he does for a living, and guess what?" Billy and Corryn sat forward with interest. "He works for the Census Bureau."

"Well, I told you he was weird," Corryn said, "but you wouldn't listen."

"I thought you were just being closed-minded," Adrienne said in her own defense.

"No way. I mean, I'm sure there's someone out there for him, but he was just too odd for me."

Billy nodded and threw in, "And what about how he closed the elevator door on me the first class?"

"Oh, get
over
it already," Corryn said, giggling, and Billy started laughing again.

"This is fun," Adrienne said, and licked some rainbow sprinkles from her oversize cone. "I wish... I wish Penelope and I could be as close as you two are."

After a momentary pause, Billy said, "I didn't think you felt that way about Pen."

"What do you mean? She's my sister," Adrienne stated simply. It wasn't that simple. But maybe it could be.

"I know, Mom, but you just never seem... proud of her."

"Belinda. How can you say that? Of course I'm proud of her. She knows that. I'm sure she knows that." Except that Adrienne's voice faltered a bit; she wasn't all that sure.

"Then why do you always make rude comments about how she lives her life?" Corryn asked bluntly.

"I just don't want her to forget what's important. It's because I love her—you know, like the way I tell you two things. Out of love."

"Yeah, about that—" Corryn began.

Billy interrupted: "But how can you expect to be close to Aunt Pen when you act like a nagging, judgmental know-it-all? You know—like a mom?" Temporarily speechless, Adrienne pressed her lips together as Billy continued, "And when you're always saying that you don't want us to end up alone like her?"

"Well, wait a second. No, I
don't
want you to be alone," Adrienne said. "I want you to find someone, like I found your father, so you can have a family. I'm sorry if that makes me a bad mother."

"It doesn't, Mom, but why do you have to criticize Pen?"

Adrienne sighed with a hint of resignation. "I guess I see how much you both look up to her, and I'm afraid that you'll want to be like her. I mean, I know
she's
happy, but that doesn't mean that if I could pick the ideal lives for my daughters I'd choose the one she has."

It made sense, and Billy believed her mother, but there was something else going on. Maybe it was something that could be defined only by the muddled dichotomy of siblings—love and jealousy, closeness and anger, fierce devotion and acute competition. Happily, Billy and Corryn's relationship was unmarred by that kind of dynamic—probably because of their seven-year age difference and what seemed to be an innate friendship.

If Adrienne wanted to be as close with Aunt Pen, she had to be a better friend. She had to stop comparing their lives. And she had to stop projecting. In fact, for the first time it occurred to Billy that her mom might actually feel a stab of envy for her older sister, who'd built a career out of her creativity, who'd accomplished some thing Adrienne never had, and who'd earned the respect and admiration of Adrienne's daughters. Not that Adrienne would ever trade what
she'd
accomplished, her family.

But still. Was it possible that Adrienne judged Pen because somewhere in the back of her mind, she was afraid that Pen was doing the same thing to her?

"Mom, I've been thinking. Remember how you used to sell those welcome mats and stuff?"

"Yes. What about it?" Adrienne asked, looking confused by the abrupt switch in topic.

"Well, you seemed to love that. Wouldn't you have fun if you tried something like that again?"

"Oh... I don't know."

"That's true," Corryn agreed. "I remember you were really into that for a while."

Adrienne shrugged. "Your father and I don't really need the money at this point."

"Not for the money," Billy said, balling up her gooey napkin and setting it to the side, along with Adrienne's and Corryn's. "Just for your own fun. Oh, I know! What about tablecloths? Remember when you made a bunch of different tablecloths that one year?"

"I just gave them as gifts," Adrienne said dismissively, but her eyebrows were cinched together. She was thinking about it; the wheels were starting to turn.

"People loved those, Mom. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, I remember I designed patterned napkins to go with the tablecloths, too," Adrienne added, her voice touched with pride.

"I know, they were gorgeous!" Billy enthused. "You should do something like that again, Mom! Not just tablecloths and napkins, but curtains, slipcovers, anything with fabrics."

"It's true," Corryn said, nodding. "You are kind of a fabric hound, Mom."

"True," Adrienne said, as her mouth curved into a smile.

"And maybe you could talk to Pen about it," Billy added, hoping she hadn't pushed it too far.

"What do you mean?" Adrienne said, tilting her head, uncertain but not unwilling to listen. Already this was progress.

"Well, maybe the two of you could work together sometimes. Maybe she'd be able to use the stuff you make in the rooms she designs. If nothing else, she could help you get started finding a market for yourself."