nice Jewish girl, little realizing that she would turn out to be that girl.
Standing in the kitchen nursing her chardonnay, Jane sighed as she studied a photograph of the three friends adorning the refrigerator door, a photo taken the day she and Mark announced their engagement. Next to that image was another, taken on the twins’ first day of school: two little five year-olds, arms tightly wound around one another, in their neat little uniforms and matching backpacks.
Thinking about Perry and seeing her daughter, Jane remembered how, in many ways, her friend had once served as the daughter she wished she had had. Their friendship had waned in recent years as Jane and Mark became caught up in the busyness of their biological children’s lives, and many of Perry’s once endearing, childlike traits seemed to age into obnoxiousness. Still . . . there were times when she missed her friend.
On his better days, Perry Waters was more fun than the best girlfriend she had ever had. No one could make her laugh or cry with such ease. She certainly related to him much better than to her own daughter. Jane could never imagine Dana getting up with her at 3 a.m. to watch a live telecast of a British wedding, as Perry did when Prince Charles wed Lady Di in 1981. Dr. Waters still had an impressive collection of Royal Family memorabilia, including a virtual shrine to the late princess. Jane’s daughter never had any such interest in princesses, real or fictional.
But at one time they at least could talk to one another. Dana had never had any communication problems with her parents when that kindergarten photo was taken. In elementary school both children excitedly told their parents every detail about their days, from what books they read to what they ate for lunch. But somewhere around the time she entered adolescence, Dana began to change, becoming quieter and more introspective around her parents. Initially Jane just chalked it up to the vagaries of female puberty, but the changes seemed to become permanent as Dana grew older.
Jane knew that Dana’s reserved nature did not equate to shyness. In fact, she was generally more popular among her peers than Dennis was. It didn’t hurt that she was an attractive star athlete, while her brother often came across as a sarcastic know-it-all. Dennis was the kind of kid that other teens either loved or loathed. He only had two friends other than Dana, but his bond with them was quite strong. Chris and Duncan stroked Dennis’s ego by calling him their “Geek God,” their loyalty to one another exacerbating a common disdain for those of the non-geek world.
In contrast, other students generally seemed to like being in Dana’s company, without feeling threatened by her, but even she would admit that much of this socialization was on a very shallow level. Dana seemed to change best friends every year, like rotating tires. Most of the teenagers that her parents would describe as her friends, she really considered to be mere acquaintances, not anyone she could trust with her deepest thoughts and feelings. As for dating, while Dana was the object of many boys’ desires, she rarely showed much interest in return. She had many male friends and several one-time dates, but other than “going steady” with elementary school crushes, had never had a serious boyfriend. At her age, her parents did not really mind that she preferred playing the field to being obsessed with any one boy.
There were only two people that Dana seemed to trust completely. Like many twins, she and Dennis shared an exceptionally close bond; “wombmates” they called each other. As young children they had communicated in their own strange language, as if keeping secrets from their parents even as toddlers. This closeness had not diminished with age.
While Jane always thought it was wonderful that the twins were so close, she was less sure about other primary relationship in her daughter’s life. Not surprisingly, Dana
Standing in the kitchen nursing her chardonnay, Jane sighed as she studied a photograph of the three friends adorning the refrigerator door, a photo taken the day she and Mark announced their engagement. Next to that image was another, taken on the twins’ first day of school: two little five year-olds, arms tightly wound around one another, in their neat little uniforms and matching backpacks.
Thinking about Perry and seeing her daughter, Jane remembered how, in many ways, her friend had once served as the daughter she wished she had had. Their friendship had waned in recent years as Jane and Mark became caught up in the busyness of their biological children’s lives, and many of Perry’s once endearing, childlike traits seemed to age into obnoxiousness. Still . . . there were times when she missed her friend.
On his better days, Perry Waters was more fun than the best girlfriend she had ever had. No one could make her laugh or cry with such ease. She certainly related to him much better than to her own daughter. Jane could never imagine Dana getting up with her at 3 a.m. to watch a live telecast of a British wedding, as Perry did when Prince Charles wed Lady Di in 1981. Dr. Waters still had an impressive collection of Royal Family memorabilia, including a virtual shrine to the late princess. Jane’s daughter never had any such interest in princesses, real or fictional.
But at one time they at least could talk to one another. Dana had never had any communication problems with her parents when that kindergarten photo was taken. In elementary school both children excitedly told their parents every detail about their days, from what books they read to what they ate for lunch. But somewhere around the time she entered adolescence, Dana began to change, becoming quieter and more introspective around her parents. Initially Jane just chalked it up to the vagaries of female puberty, but the changes seemed to become permanent as Dana grew older.
Jane knew that Dana’s reserved nature did not equate to shyness. In fact, she was generally more popular among her peers than Dennis was. It didn’t hurt that she was an attractive star athlete, while her brother often came across as a sarcastic know-it-all. Dennis was the kind of kid that other teens either loved or loathed. He only had two friends other than Dana, but his bond with them was quite strong. Chris and Duncan stroked Dennis’s ego by calling him their “Geek God,” their loyalty to one another exacerbating a common disdain for those of the non-geek world.
In contrast, other students generally seemed to like being in Dana’s company, without feeling threatened by her, but even she would admit that much of this socialization was on a very shallow level. Dana seemed to change best friends every year, like rotating tires. Most of the teenagers that her parents would describe as her friends, she really considered to be mere acquaintances, not anyone she could trust with her deepest thoughts and feelings. As for dating, while Dana was the object of many boys’ desires, she rarely showed much interest in return. She had many male friends and several one-time dates, but other than “going steady” with elementary school crushes, had never had a serious boyfriend. At her age, her parents did not really mind that she preferred playing the field to being obsessed with any one boy.
There were only two people that Dana seemed to trust completely. Like many twins, she and Dennis shared an exceptionally close bond; “wombmates” they called each other. As young children they had communicated in their own strange language, as if keeping secrets from their parents even as toddlers. This closeness had not diminished with age.
While Jane always thought it was wonderful that the twins were so close, she was less sure about other primary relationship in her daughter’s life. Not surprisingly, Dana
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