Undertow (24 page)

“Getting warm. Pun intended.”

Marissa gave her a blank look.

Failing to get the response she clearly expected, Kelly sighed. “Okay, I’ll put you out of your misery. Guatemala.”

“So what’s in Guatemala?”

“People.
People
are in Guatemala.
Poor
people. We’re going to help a village build a school, fix roofs, make solar ovens so they can stop chopping down trees. That kind of stuff.”

She couldn’t imagine her friend spending summer vacation doing anything so altruistic. There had to be a new guy in the picture somewhere. “Wow. That’s great. When?”

“July.”

“Won’t it be hot?”

“Yeah, but it’s about the same year round. On the equator and all that, you know.”

“Oh, right.” Marissa felt stupid for asking.

“What about you? Sticking around all summer?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to take a couple of classes. Make up for lost time, you know, plus mom and I really need a break from each other.”

“Sure it doesn’t have something to do with your boy toy?” Kelly gave her a sly smile.

Marissa laughed. “Nailed it, Kels. How’d you ever guess? It’s like you’re psychic or something.”

For a minute it was like high school again, giggling about their boyfriends, or potential guys. Then a shadow clouded Kelly’s face.

“You’re in love, Issa? For real?”

Tipping her cup to drain the last bit of soup before answering, Marissa pondered the question. Was she truly in love with Jim?

“Yeah. I guess I really am. He’s the best.” She wiped her mouth “So, did I tell you he’s taking me to Denver this summer? His cousin is getting married.”

Kelly clapped her hands and squealed like the cheerleader she used to be. “A wedding? Are you kidding? This
is
pretty serious. You’ll have to wear a dress, you know.”

She groaned. God, she hated wearing a dress. In their junior year, Kels teased her that Marissa would be the only girl to wear jeans to the prom. “It’s way worse than having to wear a dress—guess who the bride is.”

“Who?”

“Jim’s old flame. His cousin, a total jerk, put the moves on her while they were still going out. Now Jim has to go to their wedding. Doesn’t that suck?”

Kelly gazed at her plate, still covered with noodles. Marissa wondered if she had slipped back into her old ways.  Maybe she'd been too wrapped up in her own drama to notice how thin Kelly had gotten. She took a quick inventory: brittle nails, pallid skin. “Is everything okay, Kels?”

Her lips stretched into an insincere smile. “Of course. I’m fine.”

Marissa tried to channel Dr. Leopold’s advice:
Maintain your boundaries
, the voice said.  “Jim is pretty shook up about the wedding. They were
engaged
, right? Then this dude muscles in.”

“He should have waited until they broke up . . .” Kelly’s voice faded out to a whisper  before she finished the sentence.

 “Seriously? It’s
never
cool to date somebody your friend, or relative, or whoever, was with! They’re off-limits. Forever.”

Kelly coughed and looked away. “People can’t always help who they fall for, Issa.”

Marissa sipped her iced coffee and stared at Kelly, wondering what had gotten into her, why she was defending the guy, why she was acting so weird
.
It wasn't like her at all. “So Jim should just be okay with it? If they’d already split? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m just saying that these things can’t always be controlled. Maybe it’s nobody’s fault.” Kelly looked at her like a puppy who just piddled on the carpet.

“Whatever. I can’t believe this is you talking, Kelly.”

“Well, people change, right?” Kelly stared at the table. “Umm . . . there’s something I have to tell you, Issa. Please, promise to just listen. And don’t hate me.”

Marissa shook her head, confused. “You’re my best friend, Kels. How could I ever hate you? Everybody’s got their own opinion, I guess. I’m okay with it.”

“Yeah, well. Here’s the thing.” She took a deep breath before confessing, “I’ve been seeing Drake.”

For a moment she couldn't breathe, it was like Kelly had punched her in the gut. The world darkened and swirled around her and she grabbed the table to steady herself. “Is this a joke?” she stammered. “It’s pretty creepy to joke about this. Just cut it out already, okay?”

“No, Issa, please! Let me tell you what happened . . .”

 “I don’t care what happened! Just shut up!”

“Drake was lonely. So was I after Johnny dumped me. We . . .”

“Stop it!” Marissa shouted, loud enough that the diners at the tables nearby gaped at them. “I said, shut up! I don’t want to know.” She stood up, fished a twenty out of her wallet, and slid it under her glass. “I thought you were my friend, Kelly. My
best
friend. How could you?”

As she walked toward the door, Kelly called after her, “Wait! Don’t go! Please!”

Marissa spun around to face her friend. “Have a great life, Kelly. And don’t forget to eat.”

Outside, she sprinted to the car and sped down the street toward Chapman Park. Cutting the engine, she lay her forehead on the steering wheel, shielded her head with her arms, and sobbed.

Thirty-four

“I
want to show you something. Let’s go for a drive.” Her mother grabbed her jacket and keys from the hook and nudged Marissa, who allowed herself to be shepherded out the door.

During the drive, her mother peppered her with the usual questions: “How’s school, how are you feeling, how’s Jim?”

Marissa mumbled the pat answers expected in her mother’s shallow game of tell-me-all-about-your-life.
When asked about Kelly, she stiffened and stared out the window.

The evasion was instantly registered by her mother, who launched her investigation without wasting a moment. “Uh-oh. What’s up with you two? Didn’t you just have lunch together yesterday?”

“Yes.” Marissa silently begged all the deities of the Universe to end this conversation.

“And? What happened?”

Prayer unanswered,
she thought
. And they wonder why I’m an atheist
. “I really don’t want to go into it, Mom.”

Her mother took a few of those deep calming breaths she practiced whenever she was desperately trying to restrain herself from saying something that might set Marissa off. Each sharp little puff of air as she exhaled nearly drove Marissa to murder. After the third aggravating breath, her mother said, an artificial calm in her voice: “Mari. I respect your privacy. Really, I do. But I really wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. You and Kelly are such close friends. I’m worried about you now.”

Capitulation was the speediest way to end this conversation, she knew; it would save her hours of playing twenty questions with her mom.

“Kelly’s dating Drake.”

Her mother gasped and swiveled her head to face Marissa. The car swerved, coming perilously close to smashing into a convertible barreling along beside them. She jerked the car back into her own lane and trained her eyes on the road.

“Oh,  honey. I’m so sorry. Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Tears welled up, and she cursed them. Why did she always wind up crying in front of her mother?

“But you do have Jim now, right, Honey?”

“That’s beside the point, Mom. Kelly’s my best friend
.
At least, I thought she was.”

“Mari. Don’t think like that! She’s
still
your best friend. Going out with Drake doesn’t change that. Don’t be so quick to throw away a friend.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“Well, maybe she’s right. Best friends are valuable, sweetie. More valuable even than boyfriends.”

Easy for her to say,
she thought. At her age, girlfriends probably
were
more important than men.
Just look at George.
Marissa wiped the mascara from underneath her eye away with her sleeve. “Drop it, okay, Mom? You asked what was wrong, and I told you.”

“Fine. We’ll talk later then.” Her mother guided the car up the ribbon of road winding through Washington Park. “Oh, look, it’s like I always tell you: the parking space will appear when the car is ready.” She pulled into a slot in front of the tennis courts. “We’re here.”

“
Tennis
? I haven’t played since high school, Mom.”

An athletic couple chased a ball around the nearest court. Marissa imagined how out of breath she would be after a couple of sprints toward the net. It was a rough year, and she was totally out of shape. Her mother, on the other hand, seemed fit as a teenager. She had lost weight and firmed up in the past few months. And her new wardrobe emphasized her figure, unlike the crappy sweats she lived in while Marissa was growing up.

Her mother laughed. “Not tennis, Mari. The Rose Garden.”

“Kind of early for roses to bloom.”
Classic Mom
, she thought.
Everything has to happen on her schedule. Even the seasons.

“Oh, I’ll bet there are a few buds at least. It’s been pretty warm this spring. Let’s go see.” She gave her a cryptic look and took off toward the garden.

Descending the broad stairs, she paused at the front of the dedication plaque to take in the view of the city below. Portland spread out beneath her, and she ached to have wings. She would fly away from her mother, away from the garden, past the skyscrapers and out across the broad Willamette, to the tip of Mount Hood, still covered in snow.

Her mother tugged on her hand. “Come on.” Her voice was urgent, excited. She led her down the hill and into Shakespeare’s Garden, where the rhododendrons, covered in spectacular flowers, towered over them. The perimeter of the garden was an explosion of purple and pink:  irises, clematis, hyacinths. Grasping both of Marissa’s hands, her mother said, “Isn’t it perfect?
The
most romantic place in the world! Or in Portland, at least.” She giggled like a teenager.

“Romantic?” Marissa eyed her mother curiously, and wondered if her mother had totally lost it. Maybe the stress had been too much for her, too.

Her mother threw back her head and laughed. She released Marissa's hands and twirled around on one leg like a ballerina, her arms extended to embrace the whole garden.

Marissa looked around nervously. Thankfully, there were only two other people in the garden, a couple sucking face over in an alcove, who
wouldn’t notice if a bomb exploded
.
“Geez, Mom. Sure you’re okay?”

“
Okay? Yes, you could say that I’m okay, Mari. Better than okay!” Her expression turned serious. “I have something important to tell you, sweetie.”

Her stomach lurched.
This can't be happening,
she thought
.

 “Mari. It’s been years since your dad left. While you were growing up, well, I just focused on you, taking care of you and all. Put the rest of my life on hold. But now you’re all grown up.”

Just get to the point
already,
she felt like begging. Her whole life, she’d been forced to decipher hidden messages buried in her mother’s roundabout mumblings.