Mary Jane, Jessica Blau [diy ebook reader TXT] 📗

Sheba asked. Everyone looked at me.

“Oh,” I said. My shriveled-up heart started to inflate. “I didn’t know I was invited.”

“Of course you’re invited,” Dr. Cone said. “You’re part of the family now.”

I felt my eyes tear up, and quickly turned to the stove so no one could see. “Oh okay, yes, I’d love to come.” My mother’sface flashed in my mind and I felt slightly ill. Almost dizzy. What if she wouldn’t let me go?

“Mary Jane, I don’t want to go anywhere without you!” Izzy climbed off the banquette and hugged the backs of my legs. Hergrip steadied me. My mother vanished from my thoughts.

 

Later that day, when Izzy and I were home from Eddie’s, I braced myself to call my mother and ask about the beach.

“I’d like to speak with Dr. Cone about this.” My mother’s voice was sharp. I could tell she wanted to say no but couldn’tcome up with a logical reason.

“He’s working. Can I pass on a question?”

“I’m concerned about his wife being sick and your having full responsibility for a child near water.”

“We’ve gone to the Roland Park Pool many times.”

“There are lifeguards there.”

“There are lifeguards at beaches, too.”

“Mary Jane. Do not get fresh with me. You are asking to go away for a week with a family your father and I don’t know. I’dlike to speak to Dr. Cone to make sure this is a safe and wise decision.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll come up just before dinner.”

I looked around the kitchen. If my mother walked in, she wouldn’t approve of the Cones’ taste—antiques, Buddhas, framed etchingswith naked people in them. Also, if she saw Sheba and Jimmy, I’d be imprisoned at home. And of course, Mrs. Cone was supposedto be ill. For just a minute I imagined her meeting my mother at the door, her nipples pushing out through her tank top. “Mrs.Cone doesn’t like visitors.”

“Then call me before dinner tonight and put Dr. Cone on the phone.”

“Okay, I will.”

“And, Mary Jane, if you’re working around the clock like that, you need to be paid more.”

“Okay, I’ll ask if they’re going to pay me more.” I would not.

“Do they have a proper meat thermometer for your pork roast?”

“Yes.” I’d bought one at Eddie’s.

“Are you doing the berries and whipped cream for dessert?”

“Izzy’s never had s’mores, so I bought the ingredients for them.”

“That’s not a proper dessert for adults.”

“I can make the berries and whipped cream, too.”

“What kind of butter do they keep in the house?”

“Land O’Lakes.” This I had also purchased at Eddie’s.

“Salted or unsalted?”

“Salted.”

“Don’t put too much on the peas and corn. Just enough to lightly coat them.”

“Okay.”

There was silence for a moment. I felt something coming across the phone line. Loneliness, maybe. Could it be that my mother missed me?

“I’ll talk to you tonight when you make the call for Dr. Cone.”

“Okay, Mom.” I wanted to say love you, as Izzy and I now said every night when I put her to sleep. But my parents didn’t say those words. Instead I just hung up.

The rest of the afternoon as Izzy and I prepared dinner and folded and ironed two loads of laundry, I worried about my mother’sconversation with Dr. Cone. How could I make sure Mrs. Cone’s make-believe cancer didn’t come up? If I told Dr. Cone aboutthe lie, would he still want me to watch his child and go to the beach with them? Could he abide a liar in his house? If Iwere a mother, would I let a liar (and maybe a sex addict) take care of my child?

As the roast was cooking, and Izzy and I were setting the table, Dr. Cone and Jimmy entered the house. Jimmy went straightto his guitar in the kitchen. Dr. Cone came into the dining room and said, “Smells wonderful.”

I smiled and my face burned. My heart was beating so hard, I thought I might collapse right there. “Dr. Cone?” I managed.

Dr. Cone squinted at me. “Mary Jane, you okay?”

“May I speak with you privately?”

“Mary Jane, are you okay?” Izzy hugged my legs and looked up at me.

“Yes. I just need to talk to your dad a minute.”

“Izzy, go help Jimmy.”

Izzy squeezed my legs and then ran off to Jimmy. Dr. Cone pulled out a chair and put his arm out, indicating I should sit.I did. He sat next to me. “Just breathe. In and out. Slowly.”

I took an inhale and then exhaled slowly. It did make me feel better. “My mother wants to talk to you before she agrees that I can go to the beach.”

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“But I told her something I shouldn’t have.” I took another deep breath and when I exhaled, I started crying. It surprisedme as much as it seemed to surprise Dr. Cone.

Dr. Cone pulled the napkin from the place setting in front of him and handed it to me. “Did you tell her about Jimmy and Sheba?”

I shook my head. “Worse.”

“Worse? It’s okay, Mary Jane. You can tell me.”

“I told her . . .” I startled myself by crying too hard to speak. Harder than I’d ever cried in front of my parents, who didn’tallow crying. I couldn’t help but think how different I was these days. I was growing into someone new, new even to me.

“Breathe in, breathe out.”

I took a breath in. “I told her . . .” My voice hitched and I breathed out, firmly. “I told her Mrs. Cone has cancer.”

“Why?” Dr. Cone tilted his head and looked at me. His brow was furrowed. His bushy eyebrows almost met his sideburns.

“That was the only way she’d let me cook dinner.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“She thinks a mother should always cook dinner. And so the only way to explain why Mrs. Cone wasn’t cooking dinner was tosay that she was sick. And I actually never said she had cancer. I just said she was sick. And then my mother thought shehad cancer and I never told her she didn’t.” I squeezed my eyes shut hard. When I opened them, Dr. Cone was staring at me.

“So your mother wouldn’t let you