Chapter 14
In my dream I was a sophomore once more, performing in the school’s production ofGrease. The play was almost over, and I peeked out around the curtain to see if Daddy had arrived.
The seat next to my mother sat empty.
Disappointment and adrenaline swirled within me. He’d said he would come. He’d promised he would be there, even if he did live a hundred miles away now. This was the third and final performance. If he didn’t show up, then he would never get to see me.
Maybe he’d watch the grainy VHS from the recording that someone in the middle of the auditorium was making, but an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach told me he wouldn’t.
He was too busy playing Daddy for his new family, and I wasn’t anywhere near as cute or convenient as his three-year-old daughter.
You’ll just have to pretend that this is a dress rehearsal. You can’t look at that seat.
I did just that, singing backup on “You’re the One That I Want,” even though my throat wanted to close in anxiety. I’d been offered the star role, but I’d turned it down. I loved to sing in the shower, but I was terrified of singing solo in front of my father. Being onstage and speaking? Not a problem. Singing? Another story.
Even my crush on the boy who was playing Danny Zuko hadn’t been enough for me to take the role. Ms. Jackson had finally given uptrying to persuade me, but she still had spent many a rehearsal looking at me and shaking her head.
Finally, the song came to an end. My heart hammered with both the exhilaration of getting on the stage and the immense relief of being done. I wiped my clammy hands on my poodle skirt before taking the hands of a couple of my castmates.
Only when I came out to take a bow did I dare to look at that seat.
Still empty.
In the midst of the cheers and the applause, I had a thought, an awful, terrible thought:Daddy would’ve come to see me if I’d taken the lead role.
Maybe.
But maybe not.
Finally, the encore ended. I could only hope the audience thought my tears were from the joy of a job well done. I took one last bow and then raced backstage. People must’ve thought I wanted to change out of my costume and wipe off my thick makeup, but I really wanted to hide.
“Hey, Vivian, you okay?” asked Sarah, the girl who’d played Rizzo.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I just want to be left alone right now.” The words came out gruffer than I’d intended, but Sarah took the hint and moved to another part of the crowded dressing room.
I hurriedly changed, then ran to the refuge of the bathroom, where I methodically swiped at my makeup, leaving streaks of mascara in my wake. I was the last person out of the auditorium back door, and I half expected my mother to be standing there with arms crossed and foot tapping, but instead I found her pacing.
“There you are!” she said in a faux cheerful voice. “I was beginning to think I would have to go in and get you. You were marvelous, dear, simply marvelous!”
Mom had forgotten to take off the name tag of her real estate agency. My heart burned at that symbol of what had torn my parents apart.
But, really, that shouldn’t have kept Daddy from keeping his promise. And wasn’t he the one who had broken his promise to Mom, too?
I had told myself I would be stoic, that I would get in the car and let Mom drive me home. Only then would I race to my bedroom and allow myself to fall apart. Instead, however, I ran for the safety of my mother’s arms and cried on her shoulder.
Mom didn’t even say anything about how I was assuredly getting mascara stains on her best beige cashmere sweater.
I woke up crying. I had cried more in the past few days than in the last ten years, maybe twenty.
I stumbled out into the living room. The sun was setting, the sky in a not-quite-light and not-quite-dark state that matched my soul. Mom lounged on the couch in her underwear reading a mystery novel.
“Mom? What are you doing?”
“Oh, hey, you’re up!” she said as she jumped to her feet and put on a robe but left it hanging open. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being married five times, it’s this: men can’t stand to see an old woman who’s half-naked. I’m just doing my part to scare Mitch.”
