“I didn’t think you’d ever wake up,” Mrs. Rassin said when I opened my eyes. She walked over to the windows, opened the curtains, and the room suddenly filled with sun. I put my hands over my eyes.
“Gaa! What time is it?”
“Almost noon. Your aunt’s been gone for hours. She said just to let you sleep.”
“I didn’t hear her come in last night.”
“She didn’t come home until midnight. It must have been a heck of an emergency, too; she really looked exhausted.”
I threw the quilt off and sat up. My clothes looked like I’d bought them at a K Mart reduced table and then slept in them in a scrunched-up ball for about a hundred and fifty years.
“I don’t suppose Jimmy called, did he?”
“No—was he supposed to?”
“I don’t know. I guess not.”
“Come on downstairs; I’ll fix you something to eat.”
“I can’t eat anything when I first get up, Mrs. Rassin.”
“You and your aunt! You know what her idea of breakfast is? A cup of coffee and a cigarette! I’ve been trying for years to get her to take better care of herself, but try to tell a doctor anything—”
“Okay, Mrs. Rassin, okay. I’ll eat. Just for you.”
We settled on a grilled cheese. I spent the rest of the afternoon watching Rocky-and-Bullwinkle reruns, cutting up cheese cubes for my aunt’s party, thinking about Jimmy, and pondering the relative stupidity of the male-female relationship. It took me a good three or four hours to realize I was going to have to put my pride in my back pocket and make the first move. I brushed the cheese crumbs off my hands and picked up the phone. I had our conversation all planned. I was going to be really big about the whole thing while Jimmy fell all over himself trying to apologize, but it didn’t quite work out that way.
His mother answered the phone:
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mrs. Woolf. Is Jimmy there?”
“No, he’s out right now, Morgan; he’s doing some shopping for me.”
“How’s he feeling? About the audition, I mean.”
“Well, he’s pretty philosophical about it—you know how he bounces back.”
“He seemed kind of upset yesterday.”
“Did he give you a bad time after the audition? He mentioned something about your not driving home with him—”
“Well, I guess neither of us was in a very good mood. Would you ask him to call me? I’m at my aunt’s.”
“As soon as he gets back. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Woolf.”
My aunt came in about six. She was loaded down with her briefcase, medical bag, and two shopping bags from Saks.
“Now this looks intriguing,” I said. “What did you get at Saks?”
She dumped everything beside me. “I got a few things for you so you’d have a change of clothes.”
“You did? What? Can I see?”
“Mm-hmm . . .” She took a cigarette out of her coat pocket and lit it. “I talked to your mother last night—she and your father are coming to the dinner party tonight.”
“Aunt Lo, I thought you weren’t going to smoke anymore—”
“I’m tapering off. This is my last one.”
“I’ve heard that before.” I emptied the shopping bags. I started lifting lids and taking out tissue paper. She’d gotten me a short-sleeved angora sweater and a pair of wool slacks; also some sexy underwear that was all one piece.
“That’s a teddy,” my aunt said. “Your grandmother says she used to wear one when she was young—”
“I love it! Aunt Lo, you didn’t have to do all this—”
“I wanted to.” She sank down onto the couch. I watched the stream of smoke from her cigarette, and I looked at her. Mrs. Rassin had been right: She really did look exhausted.
“How was your emergency last night?” I asked. “Mrs. Rassin said you didn’t get in till late.”
“It’s all under control.” She never specifically mentioned any of her patients. I knew she was a good psychiatrist, partly because she was a good listener, but mostly because of her common sense. You could talk and talk and talk to her and she could cut right through to what you were trying to say, or trying not to say. I thought maybe she had picked up this talent in medical school, but my father said she had always been that way, even as a little kid.
“Is your sweetie going to be here tonight?” I asked. “The famous Dr. Petrie?”
A slow smile crept over my aunt’s face. “Mm-hmm.”
“What was it like?” I said. “You know . . . when you first knew you were in love with him?”
“It was very romantic,” my aunt said. “We’d been talking about the upcoming flu season, as I recall, and he looked deeply into my eyes and said: ‘Loey—let’s inoculate each other.’”
“Well,” she said, leaning forward to tap her cigarette against the inside of the ashtray, “I haven’t gotten the flu yet, have I?”
I gathered up my new clothes and stuffed them back into the shopping bags. “I think I’ll go upstairs. This conversation is definitely getting X-rated.”
I went up to the bathroom and peeled off my wrinkled clothes and took a quick shower. I was really in the mood for a good party. I just wanted to be around people who were laughing and talking and having fun, as opposed to one slightly demented seventeen-year-old dancer who’d obviously forgotten how to put his finger in the phone and dial. I grabbed a big, thick towel and took my time drying off, then I stepped into the teddy my aunt had gotten me. It was white and silky and had lacy cutouts on it. Wearing it made me feel like a very sexy person, which is a feeling you don’t get when you wear cotton underpants with little pink flowers all over them. I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered if anyone of any import would ever see me wearing this. So far the only people who had ever seen me in my underwear were the other girls in my gym class, and half of them didn’t even believe in underwear. I adjusted the straps, and when I turned around and looked over my shoulder to see how I looked from another angle, I heard a familiar voice.
“It looks as nice from the front as it did from the back.”
I whipped my head around and saw Jimmy standing there.
“Jesus!” I said.
Jimmy looked around. “Is He here too?”