Watermelon
Page 112
How pathetic can you get? What did he expect me to do? Burst into tears and beg him to take me back? Hadn't he learned anything?
I went back out to the garden. Anna had come to and was sitting up playing with Kate. She was so beautiful. Kate, that is. Although Anna was lovely too, no doubt about it. But Kate, she was more lovely. She had started to develop a little personality all of her own. When you spoke to her she made gurgly noises and laughed sometimes and made eye contact. It was almost like having a conversation with her.
Although she wasn't doing too much laughing at that moment. Her fat little face was bright pink and shiny under her yellow sunhat and she looked as if she didn't want to do any more sunbathing. "I'm hot and bored," her look said. "And I've had quite enough of talking to this flake."
"Who was it?" asked Anna.
"James," I spat, barely able to say his name.
"What's up with him?" asked Anna.
"He has a new girlfriend," I said curtly.
"Do you mind?" she asked anxiously.
"Of course I don't mind," I said, outraged.
"So why are you acting so cross?" asked Anna.
"Because he disturbed my sunbathing--made me get up off the lounger and walk--just to tell me that. I can't believe it! I really can't. What an as- shole."
Never mind James. I was worried about Kate.
"You don't think she's burning, do you?" I asked Anna anxiously. "Maybe I should have used a higher factor."
394
"Maybe," agreed Anna doubtfully, "but I don't think they make a higher one."
It was true. I had smothered Kate with a sunblock that had the highest protection factor known to man. Was I being an overprotective mother? I couldn't help myself. I worried about her. I mean, after all, she was a baby and her skin was very delicate. I didn't want to take any chances.
"I think I'll bring her inside," I said, "just to be on the safe side."
"Relax," advised Anna.
"No, I'd better take her in," I said. "She might burn."
"Oh, don't go," pleaded Anna. "I'll have no one to talk to."
Just then we heard voices in the kitchen. It sounded as if a small commo- tion had broken out.
"Helen's home," I said to Anna, "you can play with her."
"Oh no," groaned Anna. "She'll be talking about killing herself if she fails and could she stomach having sex with Professor Macauley and asking me all these stupid questions about ancient Greece.
"I mean, what do I know about ancient Greece?" she asked, sounding wronged and very put out. "Just because I worked in a bar for six weeks in Santorini she thinks I should know about Zeus and all that crowd."
She sighed and began to gather her things. "I think I'll come in with you."
But before she could make her escape, Helen burst into the garden. She was wearing a little denim skirt and a T-shirt. Her hair was wound up on top of her head and as usual she looked beautiful.
She stopped when she saw us and stared long and hard.
"Look at them," she said bitterly. "Just look at them, the lucky bitches."
"Hi, Helen," said Anna warily.
"Lazy cows, just lying around doing nothing while I have to work my ass off studying," she continued resentfully.
I shaded my eyes with my hand to look at Helen, at her furious little face. And it was only then that I realized that Helen was not alone.
She had brought a guest.
A male guest.
395
A tall, handsome male guest.
A gorgeous, blue-eyed, dark-haired, square-jawed, tall, handsome, male guest who was wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt.
One who'd gotten a tan since I last saw him.
I hadn't thought that he could get any better-looking, but it would appear that I was wrong.
The bastard!
"Hi, Adam," I said, wanting to burst into tears.
"Hi, Claire," he said politely.
I held my breath and waited for him to go back into the house. Then I realized, with horror, that he wasn't going.
"Oh shit," I thought frantically, "he's coming over."
Helen and Adam made their way over to the little oasis of chaise lounges, diet Coke, suntan lotion, women's magazines and potato chips that Anna, Kate and I had created. Adam stood for a moment, and loomed over Anna and me, prostrate on the loungers. He didn't seem too relaxed. His usual, easy charm was missing. He looked awkward, a bit unfriendly.
My heart pounded. I felt at such a terrible disadvantage. Jesus, why couldn't Helen have given me some warning that she was bringing the beautiful Adam here. I could have put on some makeup and a nice bikini. Because when I said earlier that I was lying around the garden wearing cut-off shorts and little tops, I wasn't for a moment implying that I looked like one of those sexy babes from Baywatch. God no! The shorts were ancient and made from really nasty brushed denim and were cut in a really weird way. They were totally unflattering and made my butt look really wide. And there was no Lycra left in my bikini top, so it was all droopy.
It was the romance novel versus real life syndrome all over again. Whenever they're caught unawares by their men they just happen to have gotten out of the shower and are covered in fragrant body lotion, their hair is in damp little tendrils which escape from their towel and they look abso- lutely beautiful in a totally innocent and natural way.
Enough to make you puke.
But in real life you can put money on looking at your very, very worst when the man you like/love/fancy arrives unex-
396
pectedly. Well, that's always been my experience. You might be a bit luck- ier.
I wish he wouldn't just stand there looking down at me, I thought nervously.
"Adam, you're blocking out the sun," I said, trying to make it sound like a joke. "Why don't you sit down." He sat down. It was quite amazing how a man so big and tall could make sitting down look so graceful. Sorry, I shouldn't have noticed that. I certainly shouldn't have remarked on it.
He smiled over at Anna.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi, Adam," she simpered.
"How are you?" He sounded as if he was really interested.
"Never mind her! What about me?" I nearly shouted.
"I'm fine," said Anna, smiling back shyly.
I went back out to the garden. Anna had come to and was sitting up playing with Kate. She was so beautiful. Kate, that is. Although Anna was lovely too, no doubt about it. But Kate, she was more lovely. She had started to develop a little personality all of her own. When you spoke to her she made gurgly noises and laughed sometimes and made eye contact. It was almost like having a conversation with her.
Although she wasn't doing too much laughing at that moment. Her fat little face was bright pink and shiny under her yellow sunhat and she looked as if she didn't want to do any more sunbathing. "I'm hot and bored," her look said. "And I've had quite enough of talking to this flake."
"Who was it?" asked Anna.
"James," I spat, barely able to say his name.
"What's up with him?" asked Anna.
"He has a new girlfriend," I said curtly.
"Do you mind?" she asked anxiously.
"Of course I don't mind," I said, outraged.
"So why are you acting so cross?" asked Anna.
"Because he disturbed my sunbathing--made me get up off the lounger and walk--just to tell me that. I can't believe it! I really can't. What an as- shole."
Never mind James. I was worried about Kate.
"You don't think she's burning, do you?" I asked Anna anxiously. "Maybe I should have used a higher factor."
394
"Maybe," agreed Anna doubtfully, "but I don't think they make a higher one."
It was true. I had smothered Kate with a sunblock that had the highest protection factor known to man. Was I being an overprotective mother? I couldn't help myself. I worried about her. I mean, after all, she was a baby and her skin was very delicate. I didn't want to take any chances.
"I think I'll bring her inside," I said, "just to be on the safe side."
"Relax," advised Anna.
"No, I'd better take her in," I said. "She might burn."
"Oh, don't go," pleaded Anna. "I'll have no one to talk to."
Just then we heard voices in the kitchen. It sounded as if a small commo- tion had broken out.
"Helen's home," I said to Anna, "you can play with her."
"Oh no," groaned Anna. "She'll be talking about killing herself if she fails and could she stomach having sex with Professor Macauley and asking me all these stupid questions about ancient Greece.
"I mean, what do I know about ancient Greece?" she asked, sounding wronged and very put out. "Just because I worked in a bar for six weeks in Santorini she thinks I should know about Zeus and all that crowd."
She sighed and began to gather her things. "I think I'll come in with you."
But before she could make her escape, Helen burst into the garden. She was wearing a little denim skirt and a T-shirt. Her hair was wound up on top of her head and as usual she looked beautiful.
She stopped when she saw us and stared long and hard.
"Look at them," she said bitterly. "Just look at them, the lucky bitches."
"Hi, Helen," said Anna warily.
"Lazy cows, just lying around doing nothing while I have to work my ass off studying," she continued resentfully.
I shaded my eyes with my hand to look at Helen, at her furious little face. And it was only then that I realized that Helen was not alone.
She had brought a guest.
A male guest.
395
A tall, handsome male guest.
A gorgeous, blue-eyed, dark-haired, square-jawed, tall, handsome, male guest who was wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt.
One who'd gotten a tan since I last saw him.
I hadn't thought that he could get any better-looking, but it would appear that I was wrong.
The bastard!
"Hi, Adam," I said, wanting to burst into tears.
"Hi, Claire," he said politely.
I held my breath and waited for him to go back into the house. Then I realized, with horror, that he wasn't going.
"Oh shit," I thought frantically, "he's coming over."
Helen and Adam made their way over to the little oasis of chaise lounges, diet Coke, suntan lotion, women's magazines and potato chips that Anna, Kate and I had created. Adam stood for a moment, and loomed over Anna and me, prostrate on the loungers. He didn't seem too relaxed. His usual, easy charm was missing. He looked awkward, a bit unfriendly.
My heart pounded. I felt at such a terrible disadvantage. Jesus, why couldn't Helen have given me some warning that she was bringing the beautiful Adam here. I could have put on some makeup and a nice bikini. Because when I said earlier that I was lying around the garden wearing cut-off shorts and little tops, I wasn't for a moment implying that I looked like one of those sexy babes from Baywatch. God no! The shorts were ancient and made from really nasty brushed denim and were cut in a really weird way. They were totally unflattering and made my butt look really wide. And there was no Lycra left in my bikini top, so it was all droopy.
It was the romance novel versus real life syndrome all over again. Whenever they're caught unawares by their men they just happen to have gotten out of the shower and are covered in fragrant body lotion, their hair is in damp little tendrils which escape from their towel and they look abso- lutely beautiful in a totally innocent and natural way.
Enough to make you puke.
But in real life you can put money on looking at your very, very worst when the man you like/love/fancy arrives unex-
396
pectedly. Well, that's always been my experience. You might be a bit luck- ier.
I wish he wouldn't just stand there looking down at me, I thought nervously.
"Adam, you're blocking out the sun," I said, trying to make it sound like a joke. "Why don't you sit down." He sat down. It was quite amazing how a man so big and tall could make sitting down look so graceful. Sorry, I shouldn't have noticed that. I certainly shouldn't have remarked on it.
He smiled over at Anna.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi, Adam," she simpered.
"How are you?" He sounded as if he was really interested.
"Never mind her! What about me?" I nearly shouted.
"I'm fine," said Anna, smiling back shyly.
