I spent the rest of the week teaching French to Holly and Judd in the mornings and hanging out with them in the afternoons. After dinner, I would go to my room, desperate for some alone time so that I could collect my thoughts. The good thing about being surrounded by people, especially children who demand every second of your attention, was that it did not leave room for any other thoughts. The bad thing about it was that I could feel things start to build up inside me. Like scum in a pipe, all the bad things were fossilizing inside of me and constricting my airways.
Marty demanded that I have weekends off to myself, both for my own sake and so that the kids could also enjoy their summer. On Friday night, after I had another zealous dinner with the Donnelley's, I retired to my room in hopes to spend the evening reading my books and writing in my journal that I had bought solely to document my summer in California.
Exhaustion melted my body as I plopped down at the desk in my room, leaning forward to lay my forehead against the cool wooden surface. I was beginning to burn out, and since I could anticipate this feeling, it brought anxieties within me about how well I would be able to do my job this summer. Alone in my room, without Holly tugging at my arm or Judd throwing his football at me, I could think.
Rubbing my face against my arm that cradled my head, I sat my chin on my arm and looked blankly at the desk. There were my books, my papers, my pens, and there also was a telephone that Marty installed for me. It was a shiny black Western Electric 1500 that had push buttons instead of rotary.
I wondered how Mama was doing. In college, I would call her nearly every day, even if it was only to talk about the weather. Despite my introversion, I was apt to become lonely. It's only human nature, isn't it? We are destined to need each other. Part of me believed that Mama might change her mind about the fight we had last weekend before I left. Perhaps she was only angry in the moment, and a week of not hearing from her daughter might induce her to be fond of me again.
My teeth gnawed on my thumbnail for several minutes as I stared at this telephone under the yellow light of the desk lamp. I wanted to call someone—anyone, really, but the only person I had to call was Mama. I couldn't call Greg. I couldn't call Georgia. I couldn't call Daddy.
Slithering forward, I kept my chin on my arm as I slowly picked up the handle of the telephone and tucked it between my ear and shoulder. The sound the buttons made as I dialed home was soothing. Once the number was dialed, I placed my hand over my forehead and waited with held breath. My brain was flooded with all the different things Mama could say, and my forehead grew hot under my hand.
"Hello?"
It was Mama's croaky voice. I glanced at the clock on my wall and saw that it was very late in Louisiana, just about her usual bedtime.
I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. Never had I not had something to say to Mama. Never had I been afraid to speak of her, afraid of what she would say back.
"Hello?" she asked again, firmer this time but still polite. For all she knew, I could be some stranger who got connected to the wrong line.
"Hey, Mama," I whispered, hoping she could hear me over the static.
When she was silent, I knew she could. I wrapped my finger around the phone cord and bit my lip so hard that it stung.
"Becky?"
"How are you, Mama?"
She was silent again, but silence had never felt so loud in my ear. Something swelled up in my chest, biting at my throat and piercing the tear ducts in my eyes.
"I made it to California," I whispered, hoping that I could start blabbering on to wear her down so she would speak to me. "The Donnelley's are real nice. Their house is huge—the biggest house I've ever seen, Mama." I waited for a moment. "They have a six-year-old daughter named Holly, and she's taken to me quite a bit. Sometimes she kinda reminds me of Greg. I mean, not really. Greg was kinda quiet, and Holly never stops talking—but still."
I waited again, and every moment of silence that filled the space, my heart sunk deeper and my chest swelled more painfully.
"It's beautiful here. I haven't really had the chance to explore yet, but there's something different in the air here. Everyone speaks differently. Marty still has a twang when he talks sometimes, but his wife and the kids all have a Western accent. Oh, Marty is from New Orleans, if you didn't know. I don't... think I told you that."
It was getting hard to breathe. I waited again, and finally I realized that she was not going to speak. This understanding dropped a few silent tears down my cheek, and I quickly wiped them away, still hunched over my desk with my face laying on the phone between my arm.
"Well, I just wanted to... check in. Hope everything's okay there... Alright. I love you, Mama."
She had to say it back. She always said it back. Surely, even though she was still mad, and even though she didn't have anything to say to me, she would still say it back.
The call disconnected.
More tears fled down my cheeks, but I didn't really feel like I was crying. There was a quiet stillness inside me, a numbness in my face as my cheeks wettened with the tears. With a shaky hand, I put the handle back on the phone.
Taking a deep breath, I furiously wiped my face and rose from the desk so I could get undressed and get into bed with a book. As I turned, I saw through my halfway opened door a sudden flash of blonde hair that disappeared and the sound of footsteps.
Confused, I quickly went to the door and stuck my head out of the hallway to see which blonde Donnelley it was that had been listening to my phone call. As soon as I peered down the hallway, I saw a lanky body with long blonde hair jump into a room and slam the door shut. It definitely wasn't Holly by the height, and it couldn't have been Katie because their room is on another stretch of the house. It must have been Jo.
The next morning, I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do for the day. At breakfast, the cooks served us a large plate of eggs, toast, bacon, and fruit, along with a tall cup of orange juice. I felt like I was going to gain weight that summer, eating all the food being served. I noticed that the family never finished their plates, especially Katie who only picked at the fruits and vegetables. I felt guilty leaving any crumb behind.
To my surprise, halfway through breakfast, Jo walked into the room.
"Jo!" Holly exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat as her older sister pranced to the table and hopped down in the seat beside Holly.
"Holly girl!" Jo greeted her, squeezing her sister against her side and kissing her white hair. As Holly giggled and let go, Jo turned to Judd and scruffed her fingers through his gelled hair.
"Stop!" Judd exclaimed, but he was actually giggling as he tried to slap Jo's hands away from his head.
"Oh dear, I nearly forgot I had a third child," Marty said from the head of the table as he read the morning paper and held his coffee mug on his crossed knees. "What's your name again? Josephine? Jolie? Joanne?"
"It's Joanna!" Holly cheered.
"It's Jo," Jo corrected as a cook brought a plate of breakfast in from the kitchen and placed it in front of the young woman.
"It's almost like seeing a ghost with your own eyes," Katie said in her sophisticated manner as she sipped her orange juice meticulously. I noticed the way Jo dead-eyed her before digging into her plate.
"Say, Jo," Marty began, folding up his newspaper. "Becca here's been cooped up in the house all week and hasn't even seen a glance of California yet. Why don't you take her out today, show her around?"
Jo stopped, her fork in her mouth. "I'm hanging with my friends today, Dad."
My face started to burn. Although the family had been generously accepting of my presence as of yet, the idea of Marty forcing Jo to take me out like some bored, needy child made me feel like a burden. Katie side-eyeing me from across the table also didn't help.
"Well..." Marty said slowly, his eyes widening to signal to Jo that it wasn't really a question but more of a command. "You can introduce Becca to your friends."
There was a long pause of silence as Jo and Marty stared each other down, and I felt like I was running out of air. I wanted to say that it was okay, although I did truly want to get out and explore a little. But I was unsure of Jo, and also a little offput by her since I had caught her listening to my phone call the night before.
"Go on," Marty said, turning back to his plate and cutting his piece of toast. "You can take her to Redondo or Hermosa. Take your car. Go out to eat somewhere nice. I highly doubt any Californian cuisine could measure up to New Orleans, but you can try your best." Marty looked up at me with his wide-jawed smile and a wink.
When I looked back to Jo, she was eyeing me like I had just stolen her inheritance. She stabbed her bacon with her fork and brough it to her mouth, chewing sloppily with her muscular jaw like Marty.
"Don't be so crude, Joanna," Katie reprimanded her. "Becca has never been to California before. I doubt she's been anywhere before. The least you can do is take her to the beach."
My chest burned at Katie's condescending words. I wasn't quite sure if she was meaning to be offensive or if that was just in her nature, but the way she looked at me like I was a charity case made me want to shrivel up into a raisin.
Jo apparently was also disapproving of her mother, with the way she was shooting daggers at her from across the table. I assumed it was because she used her full name, which Jo had told me very quickly was something to never do.
"Fine," Jo finally said. "Come on." She stood up from the table abruptly, using one of the white cloth napkins to wipe her face before throwing it down on her plate that was still full of food. Nearly choking on my toast, I took a sip of my orange juice to wash it down and wiped my face before getting up to follow Jo.
Jo walked just as fast as Marty and had just as long legs, so I had so essentially run after her as she stomped upstairs. As we got into the hallway, she turned suddenly and looked at me. I bumped into her, gasping in shock and stepping away as I peered up at her. Her green eyes felt like swords staring down at me. Jo had the kind of beauty and charm that could make you feel like gum on the bottom of her shoe but could also make you feel like the only person on earth.
"I hope you don't get it twisted that we are friends," Jo whispered lowly, stepping closer to me. "You're just another person my parents hired to help mold their children into perfect little godlings. I'll take you out today just so that my mother doesn't catch herself on fire, but don't expect anything else. I already have plenty of friends, and I don't have time for another one."
I felt even worse than gum on the bottom of her shoe. In only one piercing look and couple of sentences, she had me dwindled down into a pathetic child. Anger flared in me between the feelings of inferiority. I hadn't asked her to take me out, and I hadn't bothered her one moment since I had arrived. She had been friendly to me at the pool the other day, and now she was being cruel for no reason.
She stormed away to her room to get ready, I assumed, so I just huffed and turned into my room, slamming the door shut.