Edge Read Free Page B

he’d be on water. He didn’t say anything about waiting for him, or writing—nothing about the future. I’d said some other things that last night together, after he’d made fun of my father’s talk about my parents’ Friday-noon ritual. They don’t even touch, he’d said: I’ve never once seen them touch, or heard them use affectionate names, or laugh together. So she shows up at his office once a week—big deal! … Honey, we’ve got a love that’d like to bust through the roof! You don’t want to just settle for something like they did! They settled!
    They love each other, I argued back, it just doesn’t show. … Sunny said that was like plastic over wood, and love should splinter, crack, and burn!
    You know how it is when someone criticizes your family, even when you might have thought and said the same things. You strike out when you hear it from another mouth, say things you don’t mean, or you do, and wouldn’t have said under any other circumstances.
    I said, at least my father could always take care of my mother! At least he’d made something of himself, and she could be proud of him! That’s good enough for me, I said. I knew from the hurt look in Sunny’s eyes he was hearing that he wasn’t.
    â€œSeventy-four percent of American adults are interested in professional football,” Alan says as we walk along under the stars. “Eighty-seven percent of men and sixty-three percent of women.”
    I can hear Sunny’s voice saying blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!
    â€œAlan,” I say, “what kind of office does an advertising man have?”
    â€œMine’s going to be in New York City, and there’ll be a thick rug on the floor, and a view of the whole Manhattan skyline from the windows. Do you like New York, Marybeth?”
    â€œAnyplace but here!” I answer. “I’d like to get out of the South! I’d like to live near an ocean.” I was picturing Sunny coming in on a big wave out in California. “I’d like to always be tanned.”
    Alan shakes his head. “That’s out of style now. The ozone layer and all. White skin is in. No one wants a tan anymore.”
    When we get to the curb, Alan puts his hand under my arm and remarks, “You smell good. What perfume is that?”
    â€œI don’t remember what I put on.” I was thinking of nights with Sunny we’d walk down this street with our arms wrapped around each other, and Sunny’d say, let’s name our kids. Say we have four, two girls and two boys. You get to name a boy and a girl.
    Alan lets go of my arm when we get across the street.
    â€œI like the fact you’re majoring in economics,” he says. “You could go into investment banking. New York is where you want to go too.”
    â€œSure, New York,” I say. “That’s for me.”
    Next weekend I have a date with John. Premed. Chunky. Beautiful smile. On the porch he tells my father, “I’ll take good care of her. Don’t worry.”
    â€œWhat are you going to specialize in?” My father gets one last question in as we are heading down the steps.
    â€œPediatrics, sir,” and John grins and grabs my hand as we walk to his white Pontiac.
    My mother is sitting in the wicker rocker on the porch, waving at us as we take off.
    â€œNice people,” John says.
    We drive to the SAE house with the top down, the moon just rising. “Your family reminds me of mine,” he says. “Your mom so warm and welcoming, and your dad all concerned about me. … My father’s that way about my kid sister when boys come to take her out. I don’t have a lot of time to date, so I like dating someone whose family I can meet. You can tell a lot about a girl by her folks.”
    â€œThey never touch,” I tell him. “I mean, not openly.”
    â€œLike mine. You watch mine and you