"We've always had a nice Thanksgiving." she concluded. "Your father once said. 'I think I married you for your Thanksgiving dinners.' "
She laughed, I was happy to see her do that, but the way she looked when she said these things still bothered me. I couldn't explain why, but it did. For that reason, as much as anything, I couldn't wait for Brenda to arrive. She was already more than a half hour late. Impatient, I couldn't continue reading. I got up and paced about the house, going to the front door to look out every five minutes or so. Finally, I saw her car turn into the driveway, and a surge of excitement and happiness filled my heart.
Wait until she sees me, I thought. I had lost another ten pounds. She'll be so proud of me. Days before Thanksgiving. I was running and exercising more often and even contemplated going out for the girls' volleyball team.
I didn't want to be caught standing and looking out the front window, but I couldn't contain my bulging curiosity about Celia, after all Brenda's letters and all her conversations in which she praised Celia. I had never seen Brenda so taken with any other girl the way she was now taken with Celia. Who was this wondrous person?
When they stepped out of the car. I couldn't take my eyes off Celia Harding. She was taller than Brenda and more shapely, with long hair the color of a new penny. She had it tied in a ponytail. I had been hoping she would be short and plain- looking, even as overweight as I still was. As they drew closer. I saw she had beautifully shaped olive-green eyes and a soft, angelic smile, with tiny freckles on the crests of her cheeks. They giggled and brushed shoulders. I opened the door before they got to it and stood looking out at them. It took them by complete surprise.
"April!" Brenda said, as if she never expected to see me. "What were you doing, waiting at the door?"
She turned to Celia and laughed.
"This is my little sister. April. April. meet Celia Harding."
"Hi," she said. "I've heard a lot about you. April."
"Hi," I said. I didn't want to say I had heard a lot about her, and I didn't like being called a little sister.
"Are you going to let us in?" Brenda asked.
"What? Oh." I stepped back, and they entered.
"What a sweet-looking house," Celia said,
Sweet-looking? What kind of thing was that to say about our home?
"Where's Mama?" Brenda asked me.
"In the kitchen. She's been there most of the day." I said. "working harder than usual because we have a guest,"
"Mama!" Brenda shouted, and walked by me. Celia smiled at me and followed.
I stood out in the hallway and listened to Brenda's introduction of Celia. and Mama's happy voice. In moments, they were all talking at once about the food, their trip, college. It was as if I were completely forgotten. Brenda didn't ask me a single question about my activities or what I was doing at school. Mama was totally absorbed in everything Celia was saving. She sat there with a smile on her face, a smile I hadn't seen so bright and alive for some time. I went back to the living room, picked up my book, and flopped into the big chair that used to be Daddy's chair. It was soft, with thick arms, and you could push back on it and bring up a footrest. To me, it felt as if I were in Daddy's arms again.
My eyes ran off the pages of the book. I really didn't absorb any of it. Instead. I continued to listen to the chatter among Mama. Brenda. and Celia. It was as if Celia had been an old friend or even a long-lost sister or something. Their laughter annoyed me. Finally, I heard them start down the hallway to show Celia the rest of the house and her room. They paused in the living room doorway and looked in at me.
"April." Mama said, full of surprise. "Did you meet Brenda's roommate?'
"Yes," I said. "I met them at the door. and I was in the kitchen just before, too. Mama!" I practically screamed.
"Were you? Well, what are you doing?"
"I'm reading my English assignment." I said petulantly. I was still waiting for Brenda to make some comment about my lost weight.
"Oh," Brenda said to Celia instead. "I've got to show you my scrapbook. It's in my room. Let's get you settled into yours," she added, and the two of them continued down
the hallway.
"I hope it's all right," Mama cried after them. "I had so little time to prepare." She glanced at me again and then returned to the kitchen.
I sat there sulking until I got bored and rose to see what everyone was doing. Mama had the radio on in the kitchen and was listening to music, which was something she hadn't done for some time. I glanced in at her and saw her checking on everything in and above the stove.
As casually and seemingly as disinterested as I could pretend to be. I strolled down the hallway to Brenda's room and the guest room. The door to the guest room was open. and Celia's bag was still unopened on the bed. The door to Brenda's room was closed. I stood there, listening as hard as I could. They were talking, but not very loudly and occasionally, I heard a ripple of laughter from both of them.
Brenda had never had a close girlfriend in the sense most of the girls I knew had. I couldn't remember a time she had ever invited anyone to sleep over or have dinner with us, and she was never invited to anyone else's house. either. She palled around with her teammates in school, but they never did anything else together. Perhaps that was why Mama was so excited-about Celia, I thought. Still, it was odd that I had never given it much thought until now. Even I. who was probably tied for the most unpopular girl in history, had girlfriends over on occasion. It didn't create a close, best-friend relationship or anything, but it was something.
I thought about knocking on Brenda's door. It had been months since she had left, and although we wrote to each other and spoke on the phone, we still had a lot of catching up to do. Why wasn't that as important to her as it was to me? Celia was probably just demanding so much attention. I thought, She looked like a spoiled woman. I concluded, although I had no way to defend or explain that. I knocked on Brenda's door.