Towelhead (6 page)

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded. “Try to remember that we never leave our rooms unless we're properly dressed.”

“Okay,” I said. I went back in my room and clipped the tags off all my bras. I still didn't like the feel of the underwire, but it was true that it gave me better support. Every time I saw myself in the full-length mirror on the inside of my closet door, I couldn't believe how high up I was. And pointy. When I looked at myself from the side, I liked how my boobs made my T-shirt pull up in the front.

At seven o'clock, Daddy called me out into the living room. He was all dressed up in his new coat and tie, with a white shirt underneath. “How do I look?” he asked.

“Very nice,” I said.

“Do you think Thena will like it?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he said, “let's hope so.”

After he pulled out of the driveway, I heated up a TV dinner in the microwave. I ate it in the breakfast nook instead of the dining room, then washed and dried my dishes. Later, when I called my mother to tell her I was finally wearing an underwire, Barry answered. “This is Jasira,” I said. “I need to talk to my mother.” I tried to make my voice sound like as much of a robot as possible, so nothing bad would happen.

“Jasira,” he said. He didn't sound like a robot at all. He just sounded happy. “How are you doing?”

“Is my mom there?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “She's not.”

“Where is she?”

“She went swimming. She's on a big fitness kick lately.”

“Oh,” I said. I wondered why she hadn't mentioned this to me herself. “Well, can you please have her call me when she gets back?”

“Sure,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

It was really making me mad, how nice he was being, when I was trying so hard not to be friendly. I thought the least he could do was be unfriendly, too.

“Jasira?” he said.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“No,” I said.

“What's going on?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“You just said you weren't okay.”

“Stop asking me questions,” I said. “It's not fair.”

“It's not?”

“No.”

He sighed. “All right. I won't ask you questions.”

“Thank you,” I said.

There was silence then, and I hoped he wouldn't hang up. “Tell me what I'm allowed to say,” he said finally.

“Nothing.”

He laughed. “Then how are we supposed to have a conversation?”

“We're not.”

He sighed again and said, “Right.”

“I'll ask you questions,” I said.

“Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”

“How are you?”

“I'm fine,” he said. “Especially now.”

“Don't say extra things,” I said. “Just answer the question.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“Are you and my mom going to break up?”

“I don't know,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because we're trying not to.”

I wanted to tell him that I thought he should. That my mother wasn't a very nice person, and that once she got mad at you, she stayed mad forever. Instead, I said, “I got new bras today. With underwires.”

“Oh yeah?” Barry said.

“Yeah,” I said. “I used to be a thirty-four B, but now I'm a thirty-four C.”

“Wow.”

“I went up a size.”

He was quiet for a second, then he said, “I'd better go.”

“No,” I said, “don't,” but he'd already hung up.

The phone rang a little later, and it was my mother. “Barry said you called,” she said.

“Yes,” I said. “Were you swimming?”

“He said you told him about your bras.”

I couldn't believe it. He'd tattled again.

“Haven't you learned anything from all of this?” she asked.

“I just wanted you to know that I was wearing underwires,” I said. “For better support.”

“No,” she said, “you wanted Barry to know.”

I didn't answer her. It was true.

“No one wants to hear about your breasts, Jasira. Do you understand me? They don't want to hear about your breasts, and they don't want to hear about your pubic hair, and they don't want to hear about your period, okay? You need to keep all of that stuff to yourself. Then maybe you and I will have something to talk about.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Do I make myself clear?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Are you going to hang up now?”

“Not necessarily,” she said. “I mean, do you have anything else to talk about besides that famous body of yours?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Great,” she said. “What is it?”

“Daddy is on a date tonight.”

“Oh yeah? What does she look like?”

“I don't know,” I said.

“Well,” she said, “you'll have to fill me in if you meet her.”

“Okay.”

“Anything else?” she asked.

I tried to think of something, but I couldn't. “No,” I said finally.

“All right, then,” she said. “I guess I'll go and wash this chlorine out of my hair.”

We hung up and I went to pee. Then I went in my room and took off all my clothes. I opened the closet door and looked at myself in the mirror. When I thought about my mother or Daddy seeing me like this, I felt bad, but when I thought about Barry or Mr. Vuoso, it was better. After a while, I got down on the floor and sat with my legs apart to try to get a look at myself. It was pink and hairy and wet, and I thought it looked terrible. I started to get up, then I decided to look again. This time, it wasn't so bad. I knew from
Playboy
that there was a spot in there that made you have an orgasm, only I wasn't sure where. I started touching different parts until I found it, then I rubbed it over and over again. When the orgasm came, I looked in the mirror and thought I might be pretty, but then it ended and I changed my mind.

 

I went to bed before Daddy got home. The next morning, I walked out to find him standing in the kitchen with a woman I'd never seen before. They were both holding mugs of coffee and talking, and the woman had a funny look on her face, like she thought Daddy was nice or interesting.

“Good morning!” Daddy said when he saw me.

“Good morning,” I said, stopping just shy of the kitchen. I couldn't tell if I should stay or go back in my room.

“Good morning,” the woman said, turning around. She was tiny and had dark skin like mine and Daddy's. There were big lids on her large brown eyes, and I liked how you could see her eye shadow when she blinked. What I didn't understand was how she was standing there bare-legged in one of Daddy's shirts without getting slapped.

“Jasira,” Daddy said, “this is Thena Panos.”

“Hello,” I said, moving forward a little.

Thena held out a hand, which was still warm from her coffee mug, and I shook it. “It's so nice to finally meet you, Jasira. Your father talks about you all the time.”

“He does?” I asked, slightly confused.

Thena nodded. “You apparently have quite a zest for life.”

“Oh,” I said.

“That's a compliment,” Daddy said.

“Thank you,” I told him.

“You're welcome,” he said.

There were pancakes cooking on the stove, and Daddy had Thena and me sit down in the breakfast nook so he could serve us. Pancakes were Daddy's specialty. He made them from scratch, then cooked them in a lot of oil, so that they were crispy on the outside. When Thena took her first bite, she said, “Oh, Rifat. I am your slave.”

“The secret is baking powder,” he said. “Lots of baking powder.”

“I don't want to know the secret,” she said. “I just want you to keep cooking them for me.”

He laughed and said, “That shouldn't be a problem.”

When the next batch was finished, Daddy brought them over on a plate and sat down to eat with us. He started telling funny stories about NASA, which I thought was fake, since he normally hated it. Then he complimented me some more, saying I was a wonderful babysitter. “You should see how much this kid next door likes her,” Daddy said. “He thinks she's the greatest thing on earth.”

Thena smiled. “I'll bet.”

“He doesn't really like me,” I said, which was the truth. Zack hated me. I had no idea what Daddy was talking about.

“Of course he likes you,” Daddy said sharply. “He likes to play badminton with you.”

“What's his name?” Thena asked.

“Zack,” I said.

“His father is a reservist,” Daddy said, raising an eyebrow at Thena.

“Uh-oh,” she said.

Daddy nodded. “He found out I'm Lebanese, and now he thinks I'm in love with Saddam.”

“Typical,” Thena said.

“The only reason I let Jasira work for him is so she can save for college,” Daddy said. “Otherwise, forget it.”

“How much have you saved so far?” Thena asked me.

“I don't know,” I said.

She laughed. “You don't know?”

“Daddy puts the money in the bank for me.”

“I see,” she said. Then she looked at Daddy and said, “How much does she have, Rifat?”

Daddy thought for a minute, then said, “Maybe two hundred dollars? Something like that.”

“Wow,” Thena said. “That's a good start.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“What do you want to be?” she asked.

“I don't know.”

“You could be a model,” she said.

“Forget it,” Daddy said.

“What do you mean, forget it?” Thena said. “Models make a lot of money.”

“She's going to college,” Daddy said. “She can make a lot of money being an engineer.”

“Does she want to be an engineer?” Thena asked.

Daddy shrugged. “She's good in math and science.”

Thena turned to me and said, “Don't be an engineer, Jasira. It's boring. Be a model, make a lot of money, then spend the rest of your life traveling.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Stop putting ideas in her head,” Daddy said.

“We're just having a conversation,” Thena said. Then she reached over and touched her hand to his cheek, which seemed to make him forget everything.

Later, when she got up from the table to take her plate to the sink, I saw Daddy watching the backs of her bare legs. She excused herself to go to use the bathroom, and he watched her walk into his room. Then he looked at me and said, “She's nice, isn't she?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Try not to look so miserable, would you?” he said, getting up to take his own plate into the kitchen. “No woman is going to marry a man with a miserable kid.”

“I'm not miserable,” I said, following him.

“Then why don't you smile?”

“I don't know,” I said.

I tried to help him load the dishwasher, but he told me to go away. “You're depressing all of us,” he said.

I went in my room and shut the door. A little while later, Daddy came and knocked. “You have to come back out again,” he whispered.

“Why?” I asked.

“She wants to put makeup on you.”

“Makeup?”

He nodded. “She won't stop talking about that stupid modeling.”

I said all right, then followed him into the dining room. Thena was fully dressed now in a skirt and blouse, and her makeup was laid out on the table. She had me sit in the chair closest to the window, then told Daddy to go in the other room until she called him. “Can't I watch?” he asked, and she said no, that it would be better if he got the full effect.

After he left, she got busy working on me. She told me everything she was doing, right as she was doing it. “I'm starting with moisturizer,” she said, lightly moving her hands across my face. “Then I'll put on foundation. Never put foundation directly on your skin. Fill your pores with lotion first.”

I nodded, even though I wasn't really listening. Instead, I watched out the window as Mrs. Vuoso and Zack came out of the house dressed for church. His hair was wet and combed to one side, and she wore a blue dress with a collar. I noticed that she didn't really have any breasts, and I wondered if that was why her husband wanted to touch mine.