Stacy's Song Read online

  “Where’s Dad?” I asked, aware that it was the second time today that I put the question to her.

  “He’s picking out a Christmas tree for us,” she said with a smile. “I think he had some shopping to do himself. I have a feeling he’ll be in a much better mood when he gets home.”

  “Count Dracula is thirsty,” Andy informed me.

  “I’ll pour you something.” I looked in the refrigerator and got out a container of tomato juice. “Here,” I said, handing him a glassful, “drink it before it clots.”

  He wrinkled his freckled nose at me. “Gee, thanks.”

  “You asked for it.”

  I offered to help my mother, but I could see she wanted to be alone, probably to wrap packages. I went to my room to do the same thing. But after working about ten minutes, I grew sleepy and lay down for a nap.

  The sound of the telephone ringing in the hall woke me with a start. I heard my mother answer it and then call out to me. It was Greg.

  “Hi,” he said in his smooth voice. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Okay,” I told him. I waited, wondering what he wanted.

  “I’m sorry about last night, you learning about Karen and me that way.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I assured him.

  “Yeah, it does. If you want to change your mind, well, you can still be my special girl.”

  “I have to spend time on my studies. I think I’m going to axe my social life for a while, until I start getting better grades. My father’s angry with me. In fact,” I took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, “I’m thinking about dropping cheerleading altogether. I don’t have the time for it.”

  His reaction wasn’t all that different from Karen’s. “That doesn’t make any sense, Stace.”

  “No, I guess it wouldn’t to you.”

  “Is it because of me?” He sounded uneasy.

  “Hey, not everything in this world revolves around you.”

  “Well, it’s your life,” he said in his pleasant way. “Just be happy,” he commented, exuding his boyish charm.

  “I’ll try,” I told him. “One thing, Cindy said that if I hadn’t become a cheerleader, you would never have noticed me.”

  “What does she know?”

  Why did I mention that? I already knew he wasn’t the most truthful person I’d ever met.

  “Have a nice life.”

  “You too. Oh, and Stace?” He gave an embarrassed little laugh.

  “What?”

  “I guess you won’t mind then if I ask Karen out.”

  “Do whatever you like. I just hope Randy is understanding about it.”

  I hung up the phone and went back to my room. A few minutes passed and my mother came in. I had picked up one of my old dolls and was hugging it to my face. “I won’t be seeing Greg anymore. It’s definite.”

  She didn’t say anything. We just sat on my bed side by side.

  “I won’t be seeing Karen much, either.”

  “Is that what you want?” Her eyes looked thoughtful.

  “I believe so. You probably think I’m being childish rejecting them because they disappointed me, but it goes beyond that.”

  “We’re all human and flawed. You learn that as you grow older. No one’s perfect. People make mistakes. If we love them, we forgive them. However, I suppose you know best how you feel.”

  “If I hadn’t become a cheerleader, Greg would never have asked me out.”

  “Does that matter?” Her dark brown eyes, like rich Swiss chocolate engaged my own.

  “Yeah, it kind of does, to me. Is it wrong to want to be liked for yourself?”

  “No. Your father and I met at college in the library. I remember how he looked at me and how I looked at him. There was an immediate attraction between us. He came over to me and we started talking. I liked him right away. After the librarian asked us to leave for making too much noise, we walked over to an ice cream parlor on the avenue and got better acquainted. I thought he was wonderful. Perfect. I found out he had his flaws. But no, he never disappointed me the way Greg did you.”

  I nodded. Of course, I had heard this story before, but I never tired of listening to it. And she’d never told it to me in quite the same way before. She and I spoke about many things for quite a long time, and somehow I felt a lot better. There is a kindness and sensitivity about my mother that few people have. I always know she has my best interests at heart. She spoke to me today as if I were a grown-up, mature enough to be worthy of her confidences and insights.

  Our conversation ended when the front door opened downstairs. A breeze swept through the house.

  “Don’t argue with your dad. Just talk to him the way you’ve talked to me. Explain things. He’s not an unreasonable person. You can make him understand how you feel if you try.”

  I wasn’t so certain. We walked downstairs, my mother and I. Next to me, she seemed rather delicate, but there was great strength in her gentle heart and mind.

  “I’ve got the tree,” Dad told us with a smile as we joined him in the living room. “Andy and I will put it up tonight.”

  My little brother came running in to admire the pine tree. A wonderful fresh outdoor scent permeated the room. Andy touched the prickly needles reverently. Somehow, I knew it wasn’t the right time to talk to my father again. I didn’t want to spoil Christmas for my family. For the holiday, at least, I could manage a truce.

  By Christmas Eve, the tree was trimmed and all the presents were in place. Andy wandered around, picking the gifts up, examining them, shaking them, putting them down again as my father issued a warning now and then.

  My parents went out to a party that evening and I babysat for Andy. I did some schoolwork and then watched repeats on television. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have been out with Greg, Karen and the others in that group. I should have missed it, but I didn’t care. I zoned in on my physics book.

  Christmas Day arrived on a Monday morning. We exchanged our gifts. Andy jumped up and down with excitement over the sled he’d gotten from Dad, and looked outside to see if it might snow. My father gave me perfume, my mother a beautiful blue sweater and matching denim skirt. My brother’s gift from Mom was a computer game, which, of course, he’d wanted. Everyone seemed content with their gifts. I still hadn’t spoken to my father, but I decided that it was for the best.

  On impulse, I phoned the Norris house. Liz answered. “Hi,” I said. “This is Stacy. Can I drop by today?” I had presents for her, Michael, and Jimmy that I wanted to give them.

  “Sure, but only Michael is going to be here. Jimmy asked me to spend the afternoon with his family. I guess you know he and I are kind of going together.” She sounded a little embarrassed. “Mom is visiting Aunt Sara. She wanted Michael to come too, but he refused.”

  Michael spending Christmas Day alone—that seemed awful to me.

  “I’ll be around. Just tell Michael, okay?” Liz didn’t ask any questions, for which I was relieved.

  My parents were going visiting in the afternoon and wanted me to go with them but I refused. “Just drop me off at the Norrises.”

  My father frowned with deep disapproval. I knew we were going to have that talk after all. “What’s going on? I thought we agreed you were quitting that band.”

  “I have presents for them, Dad. We’ve been friends for a while so I bought gifts for them.”

  “Have you told that boy you’re quitting yet?”

  I shifted uneasily. “Sort of.”

  He rose to his full stature, imposing as a granite cliff. “You have or you haven’t?”

  “I have, but Michael wanted me to reconsider.”

  “Stacy, that’s ridiculous! You can’t have it all. We let you do whatever you want, but there has to be limits. Going to college is an absolute necessity these days. You can’t have a decent career without an education.”

  “I understand that, but suppose I want to major in music? Mom did.”

  “And education as well,�
�� he pointed out.

  “I could do the same. The thing is, I love music. I love it a lot more than cheerleading.”

  I think he saw where I was going with that because his eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “I want to quit cheerleading instead of the band.”

  “That’s absurd!”

  “No, it’s not. I’m not that into cheering, but to the band, I matter. Lots of girls would make good cheerleaders, much better ones. The thing is, music is very important to me and so is the band. I don’t want to drop it.”

  “You want to be a musician? Do you know what kind of life that is?” His eyes seemed to bulge like a bullfrog’s.

  “No, but I might want to find out.”

  That was just too much for him, I guess. He smashed his fist against the wall, leaving an indentation in it.

  “Keith, please,” my mother said. She touched his arm in an imploring gesture.

  “If I don’t hit the wall, I’ll hit her,” he warned, pointing at me. He glowered in my general direction. I had a glimmering of how the accused witches felt in Salem. “You want a life of glamour, don’t you? Well, it’s not all fame and fortune, little girl! There’s no stability to that kind of life, and even if you have a lot of talent, so what? Lots of musicians do and they never make it. Or if they get lucky and do hit, it lasts for a short time only. There have been so many one hit wonders. They live on the road, traveling from seedy place to place like hobos, performing in one cheap dive after another. Maybe that’s a good enough life for the likes of Michael Norris, but it’s not good enough for you.”

  “Michael has terrific talent. I believe in him. I believe we can succeed.”

  “He’s a lowlife,” my father shouted.

  “Because he wears dark glasses and has long hair?”

  “I never trust a boy who wears his hair longer than most girls.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Appearances are deceiving.”

  “Appearance reflects character, young lady. Maybe you think these retro hippie types are more romantic than a good solid kid like Greg, but you’re wrong.”

  “Dad, you don’t understand.”

  “Generation gap, right? The entire older generation is suffering from senile dementia.”

  “I never said that! You’re just going to have to put some faith in me, because I think I know what’s best for myself. You’ve raised me the way you thought was right. Now you’re going to have to trust me to start making my own choices.”

  “She’s right, Keith. We have raised her with good values. Stacy’s not a child anymore. We have to start placing our faith in our daughter and allowing her to make her own decisions.” Mother put her hand supportively on my shoulder.

  “She’s still a child,” my father said. “And I don’t trust or like that Norris boy.”

  “Daddy, I haven’t decided yet whether or not I’ll stay with the band. But there’s an agent who wants us to sign with him. He’s got a major recording company interested.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. You could be taken advantage of. You’re just kids, after all.”

  “That’s true, but that won’t happen if we have a good lawyer representing our interests.”

  My parents exchanged a look.

  “She’s your daughter all right,” my mother said. Then she kissed my father on the cheek with a gentle laugh.

  “You’re ganging up on me. I felt exactly this way when I lost my first important case,” Dad observed. “Never mind music, Stacy, you should take up law. You were meant to argue in the courtroom.” He put his arm around my shoulder and I dared to breathe again.

  Chapter Eleven

  There were no lights on at the Norris house, but then I hadn’t expected any. The afternoon had darkened; the sky clouded over. The door to the house was open as before and I walked in unannounced. The living room looked gloomy with no trace of Christmas decorations in sight. It was disheartening.

  Michael was down on the floor doing push-ups. He wore a knit shirt and I could see his muscles rippling powerfully beneath the cotton cloth. Whatever else, he had not lost his athletic physique. When he concluded, I announced myself. He stood up, breathless and flushed.

  “You do an awful lot of those at one time,” I observed.

  “Sets of fifty.” He groped around for his dark glasses, which he’d left on the coffee table, and put them on.

  “Why so many push-ups?”

  “Why not?”

  I crossed the room and came toward him. “I brought some small gifts for Liz, Jimmy and—you. Where can I put them?”

  “On top of the piano would be fine. That was thoughtful of you. I figured you’d forgotten us by now.”

  “Not possible,” I said.

  He looked uneasy. “There’s a gift for you too. The way that things are, I’m not sure Liz did the right thing. You’ll see what I mean.” He felt his way around the room until he found what he was looking for, a large wrapped package with a bright red bow tucked away in one corner of the room near the dark blue drapes. I seemed to know what it was just from the shape, but I took the proffered package and opened it anyway.

  “An electric guitar. It’s beautiful! You shouldn’t have. It costs way too much.”

  “It’s from all three of us. Take it with no strings attached, if you’ll forgive the bad pun. Liz bought it before we knew you were leaving us. So don’t think it was meant to influence you. You don’t owe anybody anything.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had a change of heart,” I said, “like you don’t want me to stay with the group.” I worried my lower lip.

  “I never said that,” he shot back defensively. “I’m just saying you’re not obligated.”

  I wanted to tell him how I’d felt committed from the first time he played his music for me, but I was smart enough to hold my tongue for once.

  “I don’t think I ought to accept this because I don’t know that I’ll be able to stay with the band.”

  “That’s what I expected,” he said with a note of resignation.

  “You don’t care, then?” Why was I accusing him that way? I shouldn’t have pushed him. It wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  His face colored. “Look, I know we’re no competition for your other life. You’re involved with Greg and he wants you. Liz tells me you’re popular at school. You have a doting family. We’ve got nothing to offer you, nothing you want. You can have status, at least the world’s idea of it. You can have a safe, easy, normal life. You’ve always been pampered and coddled and I’m sure that’s the way you want to keep it.”

  I grew angry with him. “Is that what you think of me, that I’m some kind of spoiled brat—some airhead fluff-ball? You told me not to feel sorry for you. Well, I won’t because you do such a good job of it for yourself!”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you,” he said, his tone placating.

  “You do it without trying. You’re unfair, Michael.”

  “All I meant to say was that I understand why you wouldn’t want to stay with the band. And I’m sorry about the present.”

  “Don’t tell me what I think or what I’m supposed to feel! I’m tired of people doing that to me, most of all you.”

  Long shadows circled the bold lines of his face. “Okay, I won’t.”

  “You probably only want me to stay with the band because of the music company’s offer,” I accused.

  “Right, you got it!” He looked as if he were grinding down on his back teeth.

  “At least you admit it.” I folded my arms defensively over my chest, hugging my body for warmth.

  “Sure, anything you want to hear. I’ll let you off the hook. Told you before you’re not obligated.”

  “I know that!” I was angry with him, just as he was at me. He was just controlling it better. “You don’t care at all about me. All you want is to be successful.”

  “You got that right.”

  I felt like hitting him. “Go to hades, Mi
chael!”

  He laughed sardonically. “I thought you knew. I’m already there.”

  I turned to go, hurriedly walking toward the front door, blinded by tears of rage. But when I got outside, I saw that the sky had turned white and frozen rain was falling. I slowed my pace and took the steps one at a time. A thin sheet of ice had formed over the steps making them treacherous and slippery. As I finished negotiating them, I heard Michael’s voice at the top of the steps calling my name. I kept walking, but then I heard him again and I turned around. He was coming down, but he couldn’t see the ice or how dangerous it was.

  “Stacy! Wait!” he called.

  I tried to warn him, to tell him to stop; by then it was too late. He skidded off the steps, careening through the air like someone taking off a ski jump. He shouted my name as he flew through the air. I watched frozen and shocked as he landed with a thud on the frozen ground below.

  I ran and bent over him, my body shaking. “Michael, are you all right?”

  He nodded. “I think so. Let me see if everything still works. Oops, forgot I can’t see, can I?” He tried to get up, but then groaned for a moment.

  “What is it? Arm, leg?”

  “I’m just sore. I was lucky enough to land on my best padded spot.”

  I felt relieved, and with that feeling came the need to release the tension and laugh, to laugh at him and myself. So I laughed until the tears came.

  “What’s so hilarious?” he said with an indignant frown. “I’m glad you find the sight of me practically breaking my neck so amusing. I can just imagine your reaction if I’d cracked something. You’d be hysterical.”

  “Well, it was funny. You virtually sailed through space.”

  He pulled me down beside him on the ground. I started laughing again and then he joined in. I finally regained enough control to speak again. There were tears in my eyes.

  “It’s snowing.”

  “Come back inside. I think you and I ought to talk some more.” He let out a soft moan as he got stiffly to his feet, rubbing his backside. He held out his hand to me.