Dad and I were washing the Beatmobile in front of my house. Lea had asked if she could help, which meant she was sitting in the grass reading a magazine while we worked. Mom and Donald were off looking at wedding cakes, so I knew it was time for me to talk to Dad and tell him about them getting married this summer.
A bucket of cold soapy water was at my feet. I was washing Allen Ginsberg’s face painted on the hood of the Beatmobile. The sun was out. Dad was singing. Lea was deeply involved in her article.
“Dad?”
He stopped singing. “Yep?”
Allen Ginsberg stared at me with a challenging poetic gaze. I pushed the soapy sponge into his eyes. “Did I ever tell you”—and I knew I hadn’t—“that I like to write poetry?”
“Do you? That’s great.”
I stopped and looked over at him, surprised he was so, well, not surprised.
“When I was younger,” he continued, “I wrote too.”
“Why don’t you anymore?” I asked, not knowing how someone just stopped. I’d miss it too much.
“I was more interested in reading poems than writing them.” He went over to the bucket. “Would you ever let me read your poetry?”
“Maybe,” I said, joining him and waiting for him to wring out his sponge. “Dad, I need to talk to you about a couple of things.”
“About your poetry?” he asked.
“No.” Finally, I said, “It’s about Mom and Donald.”
He started cleaning the windshield, ignoring me.
I hated this. “They’re getting married.”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing back at me. “I figured.”
Well, if you figured, I thought, you could have made it easier for me and just told me you figured. But I didn’t say that, because I had to get the rest of it out. And I knew the next part would be hard. I dropped my sponge in the bucket.
“Annie, I knew this was coming. It’s not a big surprise.”
“Well, there’s more.”
His eyes went wide. “She’s pregnant?”
“No!” I exclaimed. Then I paused. I hadn’t even considered that. Mom was over forty.
“What is it, then?” He stopped washing and leaned against the car, his arms folded. “Spit it out, Annie.”
“I told Mom … that I would consider—and I’m not even sure I’m going, Dad—but I told her I’d think about letting Donald pay for college.” I saw Lea look up from her magazine, but she didn’t say anything. I knew she was probably listening.
He turned his head away from me and was quiet.
I let him be quiet. Quiet was better than him yelling. But after a few minutes went by and he still hadn’t spoken, I said, “Dad. You’re my dad. Donald will never be that, no matter what he is to Mom. I already have a father.”
He looked at me then. “Yeah. I know, baby.”
“You do? So you’re okay with it?”
He kind of laughed. “No.” Then he shrugged and smiled. “No.”
I gave him a sad smile. “Everything’s changing, I know.”
“Yeah, it is.” He tapped my arm with his wet sponge. “It’ll be all right, Annie.”
“That’s what Mom said.”
“Well,” he said, shrugging, “she’s right about that one thing.”
I reached out for him, putting my hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good,” he said, going back to the windshield.
I dunked the sponge a couple of times and squeezed the excess water out of it, so relieved that conversation was over. Dad went around to the other side of the car, closer to where Lea was. “I hear you and Tommy went to The Orange Show?” he called out to me.
Lea’s head whipped up. “Tommy? Who’s Tommy?” She had been listening.
I frowned. “He told you that?” I was slightly disappointed Tommy was telling Dad things about us. I could feel Lea’s eyes on me.
“He didn’t mean to. But he told me something you’d said … and then I got the rest out of him. That boy’s so infatuated he’s stupid with it.”
Stupid with it? I felt myself blushing fiercely, but then I remembered that was what Dad had said about Mark being smitten with me.
“Who’s Tommy?” Lea asked again, coming over to me.
“He was on the trip with us to Florida,” I told her.
Her brow furrowed. “What? You never mentioned that.”
I glanced at Lea nervously. I hadn’t told her about Tommy because I felt guilty. And I felt guilty because I’d kissed him. Dad didn’t know that, of course. But now he was watching me closely. And Lea was watching me closely.
“I just forgot,” I snapped.
“You forgot?” she asked. “Right. And you went to some show with him?”
“The Orange Show. It’s a place.” I got the hose to put fresh water in the bucket, so I wouldn’t have to look at Lea being mad at me. “Tommy works with Dad and wanted to see the shuttle launch.”
“Annie,” she said.
I stopped what I was doing. “Yeah?”
“Does Mark know?” she asked quietly. Lea said very few things quietly, so it was as jarring as if she’d yelled.
“Yes, he knows,” I said. “He was there when we left.”
She was very quiet now. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve only been back for a few weeks, Lea.”
She gave me a look.
“I’m sorry. I am. I’m sorry.”
“Right,” she said. “I need some water.” She started off toward the house. I followed her inside.
She’d been in my kitchen enough to know her way around. I sat at the table and watched her get a glass, throw some ice cubes in it, and fill it with water. She sat down and looked at me.
“Tommy is this guy,” I began, “who went to Florida with Dad and me. He’s twenty-two, he dropped out of USC, and he works at the plant with Dad.”
She nodded.
“And I kissed him.”
“What?!”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you about him, Lea. I’ve felt so bad about it.”
“Gosh, Annie. You do keep secrets. How did this happen?”
So I told her about the trip. Lea hadn’t asked very much about it because of the accident. She hadn’t wanted to upset me, I knew, but it’d worked out: I hadn’t had to tell her the details.
When I told her about the kiss, she just sat there for a minute.
“Wow,” she said.
“Wow,” I said, feeling sick.
She looked at me. “Do you like this guy, Annie?”
I nodded.
“Did you tell Mark?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “And you don’t tell him either.”
“I wouldn’t, Annie.”
“Well, you do talk to Mark about me, remember?”
“That was just that one time.” She took a drink of her water. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Lea. I’ve been confused.”
“It’s not just this, Annie. It’s other things too. You’re so secretive about yourself. I tell you everything.”
“I know. I’m working on that. I am.”
“It’s important you talk to me. We’re going to be apart after this summer.” Her eyes were sad. “You’ll have to call me, tell me things, even boring little things going on so I can be a part of your life, wherever you are.”
“I will, Lea. I will.”
“All right. Now more about this Tommy, please.”