Fabrications by Pamela Painter

Author:Pamela Painter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Johns Hopkins University Press

* * *

At midnight, the comp papers are finished and I’m in bed with a book, waiting for Steffie to get back from Zack’s house, where they fled after the pizza. Greg hasn’t come in yet, so I missed the chance to rehearse my eleventh-hour news. I refuse to let my ears imagine what Steffie will tell her brother tomorrow.

Outside, the snow stopped as the temperature fell, and now, outlined with lacy frost, the small windowpanes have become black valentines. Boxes of Andy’s books and papers, three overflowing duffels, and a mountain of shoes tug at my peripheral vision. He’s coming early tomorrow to move his things out and say good-bye to Steffie. But I need to tell her first.

It’s close to one when I hear her coming up the stairs. Angry with relief, I pull on my robe and go down the hall to her room.

“What are you doing up so late?” she asks. Expertly, she crosses her arms in front of her and pulls the red sweater over her head in one movement. Her long hair swings free.

I sit down on the other twin bed, and my first words surprise me. “Jesus. Did you need to tell them your father and I had to get married?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Steffie says. “I guess I said too much, huh?” She turns her back to slide her bra around and pulls on a red nightshirt. Then she lifts her quilt and flops into bed. The wool quilt, made by my grandmother, is almost in tatters but she refuses to sleep with anything else. Her eyes are closed as she says, “I’m sorry, Mom.” A little too easy. “They won’t remember.” And definitely too cool.

“Don’t give me that shit,” I say, reaching over to yank her pillow hard from under her head the way magicians separate tablecloths from plates.

Steffie jerks up onto her elbow and clutches the quilt to her chest. “What are you doing? What the fuck is wrong?”

“I’m trying to talk to you,” I say.

“But it’s one in the morning. Can’t it wait? Where’s Andy?”

I tell her then. In a calmer voice I say that last night Andy and I agreed to split up—that he’d be coming over tomorrow morning to officially move out. To say good-bye to her.

“Oh, shit,” she says, rolling her glistening eyes.

“What do you mean ‘Oh, shit?’ ”

“I mean I’ll miss him,” she says. Tears are running down her cheeks, darkening her freckles. “I mean he was OK.”

“Give me a break,” I yell. “First you complain about him and now he’s a saint.”

“That bad, huh?” she says.

I nod and hug the pillow I swiped from her. “You’ve probably overheard enough to know what happened.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s been coming.”

My mouth quivers as I say, “But you don’t have to make a big deal about it. I mean you don’t have to announce it to your friends—‘Hey guys, no more smelly tennis shoes,’ like you did this afternoon.”

Steffie points her finger at me. “You were spying on us.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.