away tears.
Noel was here.
He was here in Seattle and he’d picked up his phone for Meghan when he hadn’t picked up for me.
“I’m leaving tomorrow, dude,” Hutch was saying.
“No more Tate till December.”
Silence. Hutch listening.
“Nah, not even Thanksgiving. I thought Ruby explained it all.”
Silence again.
“Well, you should check your e-mail. We’re going to Snappy Dragon and then some dessert place with white chocolate cake.”
Pause.
“I don’t like white chocolate either, but Ruby says trust her.”
Hutch shook his head as Noel was talking. Then he turned and rolled his eyes at me.
“Whatever, dude. I’ll be back in four months. Nah, it’s fine.”
He hung up.
“Lame!” Meghan said.
“He’s jet-lagged,” said Hutch. “And he forgot about it. And his parents want him home. He said to tell you he’s sorry, Ruby.”
He wasn’t coming.
He was back in Seattle and he hadn’t called and he wasn’t coming.
I mean, I kind of knew he wasn’t.
But until then, I had been able to hope he was.
I’m a vegetarian, so I ate asparagus in black bean sauce and vegetable pot stickers. Hutch, Meghan and Dad shared mu shu pork and sliced cod in Szechuan sauce, and my mother abandoned her raw food diet because she likes the Snappy smoked duck so much.
It wasn’t a very good celebration. Everything tasted like straw because of the choking feeling at the back of my throat. I was trying not to sob and my father was staring morosely into his plate of rice, occasionally saying things like: “My mother used to make asparagus on holidays.”
“My mother liked orzo better than rice.”
“My mother went to China once.”
“My mother used to bleach our tablecloth in the sink.”
Mom kept trying to get Dad to change the subject and tell Hutch about how they’d backpacked through Europe before Dad insisted on settling down and building his dream houseboat. “We slept on the trains, John,” she told Hutch as he unwrapped a Lonely Planet guide to Paris. “We’d shove our wall ets down our shirts so no one could steal them. I didn’t shower for days. It was wonderful.”
Hutch smiled at her in the way teenagers smile at their friends’ parents. “I’m staying with a host family, actually. I’m registered for school there.”
“Now I shower almost every day,” said my mother.
“But it’s really not necessary. In Europe it’s totally normal to bathe only once a week.”
“Don’t bathe once a week, Mom,” I said.
“Why shouldn’t I?” she said. “I wouldn’t smell. We just worry about smelling, but really we don’t smell.”
“What about the smelly people?” I said. “There are definitely people who are smelly.”
“You might get a rash,” said Meghan. “Like a sweat rash.”
“No, I won’t,” said Mom, taking a sip of tea. “I think it’ll be very good for my skin, actually. I have a few dry patches that I’m sure are from overbathing.”
“Please, don’t let your new thing be refusing to bathe,” I said. “Any new thing but that.”
“What do you mean my ‘new thing’?” my mother snapped.
I knew I was starting an argument.
I knew I was, and I knew I shouldn’t.
But I was so shattered about Noel not coming, all the badness had to come out one way or another.
“You know. First it was juice fasting, then craniosacral
therapy,
then
Rolfing,
then
the
macrobiotic diet, then raw food. And now that you’re eating smoked duck , you’ll obviously need some new thing to fill the void left when you abandon the raw food way of life.”
“Ruby!” My mother straightened up in anger just as Meghan kicked me under the table.
But I kept talking. “So I’m just asking you not to take up no bathing as your thing. I think that’s reasonable.
It’s not a pathway to health and it’s not chic and European and it’s not anything except gross. You can put lotion on your dry patches and pick a different new thing, no loss.”
“I can’t
Noel was here.
He was here in Seattle and he’d picked up his phone for Meghan when he hadn’t picked up for me.
“I’m leaving tomorrow, dude,” Hutch was saying.
“No more Tate till December.”
Silence. Hutch listening.
“Nah, not even Thanksgiving. I thought Ruby explained it all.”
Silence again.
“Well, you should check your e-mail. We’re going to Snappy Dragon and then some dessert place with white chocolate cake.”
Pause.
“I don’t like white chocolate either, but Ruby says trust her.”
Hutch shook his head as Noel was talking. Then he turned and rolled his eyes at me.
“Whatever, dude. I’ll be back in four months. Nah, it’s fine.”
He hung up.
“Lame!” Meghan said.
“He’s jet-lagged,” said Hutch. “And he forgot about it. And his parents want him home. He said to tell you he’s sorry, Ruby.”
He wasn’t coming.
He was back in Seattle and he hadn’t called and he wasn’t coming.
I mean, I kind of knew he wasn’t.
But until then, I had been able to hope he was.
I’m a vegetarian, so I ate asparagus in black bean sauce and vegetable pot stickers. Hutch, Meghan and Dad shared mu shu pork and sliced cod in Szechuan sauce, and my mother abandoned her raw food diet because she likes the Snappy smoked duck so much.
It wasn’t a very good celebration. Everything tasted like straw because of the choking feeling at the back of my throat. I was trying not to sob and my father was staring morosely into his plate of rice, occasionally saying things like: “My mother used to make asparagus on holidays.”
“My mother liked orzo better than rice.”
“My mother went to China once.”
“My mother used to bleach our tablecloth in the sink.”
Mom kept trying to get Dad to change the subject and tell Hutch about how they’d backpacked through Europe before Dad insisted on settling down and building his dream houseboat. “We slept on the trains, John,” she told Hutch as he unwrapped a Lonely Planet guide to Paris. “We’d shove our wall ets down our shirts so no one could steal them. I didn’t shower for days. It was wonderful.”
Hutch smiled at her in the way teenagers smile at their friends’ parents. “I’m staying with a host family, actually. I’m registered for school there.”
“Now I shower almost every day,” said my mother.
“But it’s really not necessary. In Europe it’s totally normal to bathe only once a week.”
“Don’t bathe once a week, Mom,” I said.
“Why shouldn’t I?” she said. “I wouldn’t smell. We just worry about smelling, but really we don’t smell.”
“What about the smelly people?” I said. “There are definitely people who are smelly.”
“You might get a rash,” said Meghan. “Like a sweat rash.”
“No, I won’t,” said Mom, taking a sip of tea. “I think it’ll be very good for my skin, actually. I have a few dry patches that I’m sure are from overbathing.”
“Please, don’t let your new thing be refusing to bathe,” I said. “Any new thing but that.”
“What do you mean my ‘new thing’?” my mother snapped.
I knew I was starting an argument.
I knew I was, and I knew I shouldn’t.
But I was so shattered about Noel not coming, all the badness had to come out one way or another.
“You know. First it was juice fasting, then craniosacral
therapy,
then
Rolfing,
then
the
macrobiotic diet, then raw food. And now that you’re eating smoked duck , you’ll obviously need some new thing to fill the void left when you abandon the raw food way of life.”
“Ruby!” My mother straightened up in anger just as Meghan kicked me under the table.
But I kept talking. “So I’m just asking you not to take up no bathing as your thing. I think that’s reasonable.
It’s not a pathway to health and it’s not chic and European and it’s not anything except gross. You can put lotion on your dry patches and pick a different new thing, no loss.”
“I can’t
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