Summer Sisters Part 17

She stepped out of the tub and he watched as she rubbed herself down with a towel. "You still love me?" he asked.

"Of course I still love you," she told him. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I wasn't sure, to tell the truth."

"Here, let me prove it a" she said, sinking to her knees.

A week later a package came from Vineyard Health. Six different kinds of vitamins and minerals with a personal note from the owner, someone named Star.

27.

THOUGH PHILOSOPHY was a favorite topic, they were not above discussing Men and s.e.x. Maia was still a virgin. That might explain her fascination with Bru. Maybe she was more curious than meddlesome.

When Maia decided it was time to take action, Paisley and her roommate, Debra, encouraged her. "Winter is long and hard up here," Paisley said in her southern drawl. She was a big, rawboned girl from Charleston, with the kind of looks Abby would describe as handsome. "You might as well find a warm body to make the dreary nights more exciting."

Debra was Korean, educated at international schools, already a published poet. "If you consider YM being published. But I'm not Sylvia Plath. I don't want to be Sylvia Plath. I mean, really, look how she wound up."

"Because of some guy," Maia said.

"Most people say it was her mother," Debra said.

"She didn't stick her head in the oven over her mother," Maia argued.

"She might have," Debra said. "She might have had some innate imbalance."

"They're developing drugs for that," Paisley said. "Soon none of us will be imbalanced. Unless we want to be."

"And creativity will go right down the tubes," Debra said, which got them talking about the neurotic personality and creativity for the next hour.

The warm body Maia found belonged to Wally, a guy she met in Justice, another coveted freshman elective. He was a virgin, too. They saw a lot of one another, spending hours a.n.a.lyzing their situation. Vix suggested maybe they were overa.n.a.lyzing, maybe it would be better if they just went with their feelings. Maia accused Vix of being the least a.n.a.lytical person she'd ever met. Vix thought that was probably true, given the people Maia knew.

Before the blessed event Debra and Paisley presented Maia with an explicit how-to video. Maia sat stiffly, her hands ready to cover her eyes just in case, but instead of being grossed out by what she saw, Maia was turned on. So was Vix. She'd never guessed there were so many ways of making love.

Just after Valentine's Day Maia returned to their suite looking smug. "Well," she said, "we got through that!" Debra and Paisley crowded into their room. "We laughed a lot," Maia said. "That's a good sign, don't you think?" She searched their faces for agreement. "Well, maybe not during," she admitted. "During it's all moaning and groaning and sweat and glunk but after a when you start talking about it, it's like, wildly funny."

They looked at Maia, then at each other, and finally Paisley said, "How about it, Victoria? You're our resident expert."

She was the only one of them to have a serious rela tions.h.i.+p. Sometimes she wished she and Bru hadn't promised not to see anyone else. Sometimes she wished she could walk into a coffee shop or a bookstore and flirt. She wondered if Abby was right, if she was denying herself the pleasures of being young. Did Bru ever have similar thoughts? And how would she feel if he did?

"Well, Victoria?" Paisley said.

"Yeah a some of it is funny, I guess," she answered. She tried to remember if she and Bru ever sat around laughing after s.e.x. She didn't think so. Usually they fell asleep in one another's arms. Just thinking about it made her miss him.

Caitlin called at four A.M. from Paris. "I had an affair with a woman. She reminded me of you."

"What do you mean?" Vix spit hair out of her mouth.

"Dark hair, full b.r.e.a.s.t.s, beautiful skin a"

"I don't think I want to hear this."

"Why a does it shock you?" Caitlin asked.

"Are you trying to shock me?"

Caitlin laughed. "I'm always trying to shock you." A long pause, then, "I've met a lot of LUGs here."

"Slugs a did you say slugs?" She held the phone to her other ear.

"LUGS. L-U-G-S. That's what they call themselves. Lesbians Until Graduation."

"Oh a LUGs."

"But she was possessive," Caitlin continued. "She accused me of being a political lesbian, not a biological one, and when I refused to give up men she got so p.i.s.sed she cut my panties into little pieces and tossed them out the window a right onto the Boul St. Germain. I was lucky to get out of there alive!" Laughter. "Are you still there a did I lose you?"

"I'm still here."

"Did you know this is the warmest February on record in Paris?"

"No."

"Flowers are blooming in the parks."

Bru had sent her an amaryllis for Valentine's Day. It sat on her windowsill, its petals falling to the floor.

Paisley WHAT SHE LIKES BEST about Victoria is that she listens and evaluates. She doesn't just run on endlessly for the sake of hearing her own voice, the way Maia does when she's feeling insecure. When Victoria invites her to dinner at Lamb and Abby Somers' house she's impressed. It's a gorgeous old place on Appleton, very smartly done, very Cambridge. She doesn't quite get the relations.h.i.+p between Victoria and the Somers. Victoria calls them her surrogate family. Surrogate as in Baby M? She'd love to know but she doesn't ask.

At dinner she's seated next to the Democratic State Chair. She takes this opportunity to expound on the state of politics in the U.S. of A. She lets him know exactly what she thinks of Nancy Reagan and her Just Say No campaign. As if simplistic slogans can solve the problems of the world! She's worried about the state of this country. Really. Someone has to take action before it's too late!

He's dazzled by her sharp thinking, she can tell, and encourages her to join the Young Democrats. A bright young woman like you can go far. Have you thought of running for office one day? Run for office? Is he out of his mind? She's got other plans. And was that his hand on her thigh or was it just her imagination?

The Young Dems love having a southern girl like her aboard. Of course, they don't know s.h.i.+t about the South. Half of them don't know what state Charleston's in. And this is Harvard! Which proves geography's another thing going down the tubes in the U.S. of A.

28.

VIX AND PAISLEY worked their tails off trying to get out the vote for the Mondale-Ferraro ticket and were devastated by the landslide presidential election.

"Welcome to the eighties," Maia, the only Republican among them, sang.

"The eighties are half-over," Paisley reminded her.

"Too bad," Maia said.

Paisley groaned. "Four more years of Adolfo suits and tight smiles. Do you think she goes down on him?"

"Please!" Maia said. "She's the First Lady."

They were living in Leverett House. Vix had thought, when she'd signed up with Paisley last spring, she'd be getting away from Maia. But now they had two cla.s.ses together and Vix was surprised by Maia's intelligence. Not only that, but they both enjoyed Mexican food, the hotter, the better, foreign movies, even bad ones, and Joan Armatrading. Besides, they weren't sharing a room, which made it easier. And Maia swore she was going to conquer her nail-biting habit.

Caitlin called from London on election night. "Politics are such a bore," she said when Vix griped about the results. "Look at it this way a anyone who's willing to run, I'm not willing to vote for."

"But you had an absentee ballot, didn't you? You voted."

"No, I didn't vote. I just told you."

"That's why we lost! Because people like you just don't care enough."

"People like me? Should I be offended by that remark?"

"No a well, maybe a sorry. I'm just disappointed. And tired. What are you doing in London anyway? I thought you were at the Sorbonne."

"I'm here to see a play. The producer invited me. I'll be back at school on Thursday."

"Are you coming home for the holidays?"

"I'm going to Gstaad with Phoebe. Our annual mother-daughter ski trek. Want to come?"

"I have other plans."

"I knew you'd say that."

Abby invited Vix for Thanksgiving dinner but she opted for the Vineyard instead. When she got there she was miffed Bru wasn't as affected by the outcome of the election as she was.

He didn't get her anger. He'd voted the straight Democratic ticket. What more did she want? It wasn't worth getting all steamed up over. Besides, Reagan was good for business. And business was what mattered.

They began to argue about everything. What did you mean by that? she'd ask. Nothing, just forget it, he'd answer. For the first time it occurred to her that he had no books in the cabin, that she'd never seen him with a book. He probably never read more than the Gazette, if that. He was still listening to Van Halen. He hadn't even heard of Joan Armatrading.

When she complained about the Porta Potti, he asked what was wrong with it? What was wrong with her? Was she taking her vitamins?

"You think everything can be magically cured with vitamins?"

"Everything but us," he said.

She was tempted by Abby's invitation to join them in Barbados over Christmas, but angry at herself for behaving badly over Thanksgiving, finding fault with everything. It was probably hormonal, she decided, since she'd been premenstrual. So she went back to the Vineyard, to Bru.

And it went well over Christmas. The two of them bundled up and walked on the beach, shopped for gifts in Vineyard Haven, made love in the late afternoon in front of the woodstove. They shared Christmas goose with Bru's extended familya"the three uncles and aunts, the twelve cousins, their significant others, their babies. All of them welcomed her into their homes, into their family. She should have felt at home. They were blue-collar, hardworking, a rowdy, beer-drinking crowd. They knew how to have a good time. They weren't all in therapy, they weren't all trying to find the meaning of life. They didn't sit around comparing their dysfunctional families, blaming their parents for all their problems like her friends at Harvard. True, a few of them were already in twelve-step programs, but that meant they were trying to help themselves. Let Caitlin call their lives ordinary, even boring. This was where she belonged, wasn't it? If she belonged anywhere.

Phoebe SHE HASN'T SEEN Caity in ages, not since she caught up with her last July in Perugia. She's glad Caity's finally settled in Paris and that she's going to school. She doesn't usually admit this but she's always wished she were better educated. One year at Stephens College didn't do much for her.

She's been looking forward to their ski week together so she's slightly miffed when, on their first night, Caity picks up a handsome young man in the bar at their inn and stays out till all hours. She doesn't expect Caity to be a virgin but she's taken aback by the ease with which her daughter attracts men.

Next day, as they're riding up in the chairlift, she decides to bring up the subject. She explains that when she was Caity's age she'd traveled abroad, too. She knows the score. I'm not going to tell you what to do or not to do, but you need to be discriminating. Just because men a She pauses. What is it she's trying to say? It's true variety is the spice of life but that doesn't mean a Mean what? she asks herself. That Caity should follow in her footsteps? She's still thinking about it as they reach the top.

Thanks, Phoeb, Caity says, adjusting her goggles. I'm glad we had this talk. Then she turns and skis off.

Well, fine a if Caity's going to be out every night she might as well find some action herself. There's a charming Dane in her ski group a Abby SHE'S LESS WORRIED about Vix and Bru. Whatever understanding they have, it doesn't seem to be affecting Vix's chance for an education, and really, that's the most important thing, isn't it?

She's relieved Caitlin has agreed to study at the Sorbonne, though she wishes she hadn't entirely given up on Wellesley. They're all disappointed she's not coming home. Vix, especially, seems at a loss to understand. She's embarra.s.sed to admit that last June she'd overheard a phone conversation between the two girls. She should have replaced the receiver but what mother isn't guilty of occasional lapses in respecting her children's privacy?

Why? Vix had asked when Caitlin gave her the news.

Because I belong here. Except for you and Shark and Lamb there's really no reason to come back.

It's time to get over her, Caitlin, Vix said.

Who?

Abby. Isn't that what this is all about?

She'd clapped her hand to her mouth so they wouldn't hear her sharp intake of breath.

This has nothing to do with Abby, Caitlin said.

Then what?

It's complicated.

What a relief! To know Caitlin's decision has nothing to do with her. Not that Lamb has ever hinted a but the thought has crossed her mind.

She has a plan to get Caitlin back, temporarily anyway. A surprise fiftieth birthday party for Lamb. Even though he claims he doesn't want to celebrate, she's sure he'll love it.

29.

CAITLIN, in a tiny black Lycra dress and thigh-high boots, her hair cut stylishly short, looking like she'd stepped out of the pages of Elle, greeted Vix outside Lamb's house, s.h.i.+vering in the damp, cold, late April night air. She hugged Vix tightly, then held her away. "You look a older. Do you feel older?"