My brother could’ve pounded my boyfriend straight into the pavement.
Anyone could see that.
The next day, Walter took me out to lunch at the Colony so that we could “have a talk.”
I knew exactly what (or, rather, whom) this talk was going to be about, and I dreaded it.
“Please don’t tell Mother and Dad about Anthony,” I asked Walter as soon as we sat down at our table. I hated to even bring up the subject of my boyfriend, but I knew that Walter would, and I figured my best bet was to start off with a plea for my life. My biggest fear was that he was going to report my misdoings to my parents, and that they would barrel right down upon me and clip my wings.
It took awhile for him to answer.
“I want to be fair about this, Vee,” he said.
Of course he did. Walter always wanted to be fair.
I waited, feeling the way I often did with Walter—like a child who has just been called before the headmaster. God, how I wished he was my ally! But he had never been. Even as a boy, he’d never kept a secret for me or conspired with me against the adults. He’d always been an extension of my parents. He’d always behaved more like a father than a peer. Moreover, I’d treated him as such.
Finally he said, “You can’t fool around like this forever, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” I said—although my actual plan, in point of fact, was to fool around like this forever.
“There’s a real world out there, Vee. You’re going to have to put away the balloons and streamers at some point and grow up.”
“Without a doubt,” I agreed.
“You were raised right. I have to trust in that. When the time comes, your breeding will kick in. You’re playing the bohemian now, but eventually you’ll settle down and marry the correct kind of person.”
“Of course I will.” I nodded as though this were my plan precisely.
“If I didn’t believe that you had good sense, I would send you back home to Clinton right now.”
“I don’t blame you!” I cried, in fullest agreement. “If I didn’t believe that I had good sense, I would send myself back home to Clinton right now.”
Which didn’t particularly make sense, but seemed to mollify him. I knew my brother well enough, thank God, to know that my only hope for salvation was to agree with him completely.
“It’s kind of like when I went to Delaware,” he said, softening a bit, after another long silence.
This stopped me up. Delaware? Then I remembered that my brother had spent a few weeks the previous summer in Delaware. He’d been working at a power plant, if I recalled, learning something about electrical engineering.
“Of course!” I said. “Delaware!” I wanted to encourage this positive-sounding track—although I had no idea what he was referring to.
“Some of the people I spent time with in Delaware were pretty rough,” he said. “But you know how that is. Sometimes you want to rub elbows with people who weren’t raised the same way as you. Expand your horizons. Maybe it builds character.”
Well, that was pretentious.
Encouragingly, though, he smiled.
I smiled, too. I tried to look like someone who was busy expanding her horizons and building her character through intentional fraternization with her social inferiors. A difficult look to master in a single facial expression, but I did my best.
“You’re just having your kicks,” he decided, sounding as though he were almost convinced of this diagnosis himself. “It’s innocent enough.”
“That’s right, Walter. I’m just having my kicks. You don’t have to worry about me.”
His face darkened. I’d made a tactical error; I had contradicted him.
“Well, I do have to worry about you, Vee, because I’m starting Officer Candidate School in a few days. I’ll be moving to the battleship uptown, and I won’t be around to keep an eye on you anymore.”
Hallelujah, I thought, while nodding gravely.
“I don’t like the direction I see your life heading in,” he said. “That’s what I wanted to tell you today. I don’t like it at all.”
“I can certainly understand that!” I said, going back to my original strategy of absolute accordance.
“Tell me there’s nothing serious for you about this Anthony fellow.”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“You haven’t crossed the line with him?”
I could feel myself blush. It wasn’t a blush of modesty, but of guilt. Still, it worked in my favor. I must have looked like an innocent girl, embarrassed that her brother