CHAPTER 7
Eric Walker, the head of the Madison School, made the call to Victoria himself in the first week of March. He said it had been a tough choice between her and several other teachers, but he was happy to tell her that she had the job, and she was thrilled. He said a contract had been sent to her by mail.
She was going to be the youngest member of the English department, and she would teach four classes, to sophomores, juniors, and seniors. She had to report for teachers’ meetings on September 1st, and school would start the following week. In exactly six months, she was going to be teaching at the Madison School in New York. She could hardly believe it. And unable to keep the good news to herself, she called her parents that night.
“I was afraid you’d do something like that,” her father said with a disapproving tone. He actually sounded disappointed in her, as though she’d been arrested for taking her clothes off in a supermarket and was in jail. As in why did you go and do a dumb thing like that? “You’re never going to make a penny as a teacher, Victoria. You need to get a real job, in advertising or PR, or something in the communications field. There are lots of things you can do. You can work in the PR office of any major company. You can go to work at McDonald’s and make more than you will as a teacher. It’s a total waste of time. And why New York? Why not here?” He didn’t even ask what kind of school it was, and gave her no credit for landing her first job, in a first-rate school, against stiff competition. All he had to say was that it was the wrong job in the wrong city, and she’d always be poor. But teaching was her chosen career, and it was one of the country’s best private schools.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said, apologizing for it, as though she had done something wrong. “It’s a really great school.”
“Really? How much are they paying you?” he asked bluntly. She didn’t want to lie to him, so she told him the truth. And she knew too that it was going to be hard to live on, but it was worth the sacrifices to her, and she wasn’t planning to take anything from him. “That’s pathetic,” he said, sounding disgusted, and handed the phone to her mother, who sounded worried the minute she got on the phone.
“What happened, dear?” her mother asked.
“Nothing. I just got a terrific job, teaching at a wonderful school in New York. Dad just thinks they’re not paying me enough, that’s all. But it’s a real coup that they hired me at all.”
“It’s such a shame that you want to be a teacher,” her mother said, echoing the party line, and managing to convey to Victoria, just as she always had, that she had failed, and was a disappointment to them. They took the fun out of everything for her, and always had, and any sense of accomplishment over what she had achieved. “You could make so much money doing something else.”
“I think I’ll really like the job, Mom. I love the school,” she said, sounding young and hopeful, and trying to hold on to the excitement and enthusiasm and pride she had felt before she called.
“I suppose that’s nice, dear. But you can’t be a teacher forever. At some point you’ll have to get a real job.” When did teaching become not a “real” job? It was all about money to them, and how much you made. “Your sister just made fifty thousand dollars for a two-day shoot for a national campaign,” her mother said. It was more than Victoria was going to make in a year. And Grace just did it for fun, and the college fund their parents had set up for her. To Gracie, modeling was like a game, for which she was highly paid, and she only did it occasionally. Victoria was going to be working hard for the money she made. The discrepancy and dichotomy were shocking to her. But it was no secret that teaching was not a highly paid job, and she had known that when she chose it as a career. She didn’t have the modeling opportunities that Gracie did anyway. They were not an option for her. And teaching was her vocation, not just her work. She hoped that she’d be good at it. “Where are you going to live?” her mother asked her, sounding worried about that too. “Can you afford an apartment on a teacher’s salary? New York is a very expensive city.”
“I’ll get something with roommates. I’ll go back there in August and get settled before I start work.”
“When are you coming home?”
“Right after graduation. I want to spend this summer with you.” She wasn’t planning to get a summer job this year. She wanted to take some short trips with Gracie, and spend time with them, before she officially moved to New York. She might never live in L.A. again, or have as much time to spend with them, although she would have summers off if she continued to teach. But she might have to take summer jobs to supplement her income. This was her last summer to be home and not working, and her parents were fine with it.
Victoria didn’t go home for spring break—she took a job waiting on tables in a diner just off campus, to make some money to sock away. She was going to need every penny she could save for New York. But the meals they gave her for free at the diner got her off her diet again. She lived on meat loaf and mashed potatoes with gravy, and lemon meringue and apple pie à la mode for two weeks. It was tough to resist, especially the blueberry pancakes for breakfast at six A.M. when she started work. Her dream of losing weight by graduation was fading fast. And it was depressing always being on a diet, some new exercise program, and spending life on a treadmill to atone for her sins.
After killing herself at the gym all through April, and watching what she ate, she finally lost ten pounds. She was proud of herself. And she went to rent her cap and gown on the first of May. There was an endless line where they were handing them out, and when she finally got to the head of the line, the man assigning them looked at her to guess her correct size.
“Big girl, huh?” he said with a broad grin, and she had to fight back tears. She didn’t answer, and didn’t comment when he handed her an extra large that she didn’t need. But she was tall enough to wear it, so she didn’t complain. It was huge on her at least. She was planning to wear a short red skirt, high-heeled sandals, and a white blouse under it at graduation. The skirt was short, but no one would see it until she took the gown off. She loved the color, and her legs looked great.
She packed up all her things and sent them home two days before graduation, the day before her parents arrived. Gracie was coming with them, of course. And she was more beautiful than ever when Victoria saw her, wearing a white T-shirt and short shorts. She was fifteen now and, despite her diminutive size, looked eighteen. She could still do ads for children’s clothes and often did. Victoria felt like an elephant standing next to her and her mother, but she loved Gracie anyway. The two sisters almost squeezed the air out of each other when they hugged, after they met her at the dorm.
They took Victoria out for dinner at a really nice restaurant that night, where several of the other graduates were having dinner too. Victoria had asked about bringing a few of her friends along, but her father had said they’d rather have dinner alone with her. And he felt the same about their celebratory lunch the next day too. He said they wanted Victoria to themselves, but what he was really saying, as he always did, was that he was not interested in meeting her friends. It was nothing new to Victoria. But she was happy to be with them anyway. And Gracie was constantly cuddling up to her. The two sisters were always inseparable when they were together. And Grace was starting to think about college too. She wanted to go to USC. And their parents were pleased because it was close to home. Her father said she was a real southern California girl, which made Victoria sound like a traitor for going to college in the Midwest, instead of congratulating her for her sense of adventure and going to a hard school.
The graduation ceremony of the Weinberg College of Arts and Sciences at Northwestern the next day was fraught with pomp, ceremony, and emotion. Christine was already crying when the procession began, and Jim was looking unusually proud with a damp eye as his daughter walked by him in her cap and gown, and Gracie snapped a picture and Victoria grinned, while trying to look solemn.
Just over a thousand students got their diplomas that day from Weinberg, in alphabetical order. Victoria shook hands with the dean who handed it to her. And she screamed as loud as everyone two hours later, when they threw their caps in the air and embraced each other. She had been solitary for much of her time at Northwestern, but she had nonetheless made some friends, and they had exchanged e-mail addresses and cell phone numbers, and they promised to stay in touch, even if that seemed unlikely. And then suddenly they were out in the world, as graduates, ready to take their place in their chosen careers.
Victoria had dinner with her family again that night at Jilly’s Café, and it felt like a real celebration, as other graduates did the same at nearby tables. The next morning she and her family flew back to L.A. together. Victoria had spent the night at the Hotel Orrington with them, sharing a room with Gracie, as she had to give up her dorm room right after graduation. The two girls chatted late into the night, until they fell asleep next to each other. They were looking forward to spending the next three months together. Victoria hadn’t told anyone, but she was planning to spend the summer following a serious weight-loss program so she could look her best when she started teaching at Madison in September. Her father had commented, when she took her gown off after graduation to return it, that she looked bigger than ever. As usual, he had said it with a broad smile. And then he complimented her on her long legs as he always did, but the first comment was far more powerful than the second. She never heard the compliment once he hit her with the insult.
She sat between her father and Grace on the flight home, and her mother was across the aisle reading a magazine. The two girls had wanted to sit together. They didn’t even look related. And as she got older, Gracie was more and more the image of her mother. Victoria at every age was the image of no one.
Her father leaned over to speak to Victoria right after takeoff. She and Gracie had been talking softly, and were thinking of watching a movie.
“You know, you’ve got the time to look for a decent job when you get back to L.A. You can always tell that school in New York that you’ve changed your mind. Think about it,” he said in a conspiratorial tone.
“I like the job in New York, Dad,” Victoria insisted. “It’s a great school, and if I back out now, my name would be dirt forever in the teaching community. I want the job.”
“You don’t want to be poor for the rest of your life, do you?” he said with a look of contempt. “You can’t afford to be a teacher, and I’m not going to subsidize you forever,” he commented bluntly.
“I’m not expecting you to, or even now, Dad. Other people live on teachers’ salaries. So can I.”
“Why should you have to? I can line up some interviews for you next week.” He was dismissing her entire achievement in landing the job in New York. To him, it wasn’t even a job. He kept telling her to get a “real” job for decent money.
“Thank you for the offer,” she said politely, “but I want to stick with what I’ve got for now. I can always figure it out later if I really can’t live on it. But I can always take a summer job and save the money.”
“That’s pathetic. It may seem all right to you at twenty-two, but trust me, it won’t when you’re thirty or forty. You can interview at the ad agency if you want to.”
“I don’t want to work in advertising,” she said firmly. “I want to be a teacher.” It was the thousandth time she’d said it to him. He shrugged in answer and looked annoyed, and after that she and Gracie put their headphones on and watched the movie. She was relieved not to have to talk to him about it anymore. Her parents were only interested in two things about her, her weight and how much money she was going to make at her job. And the third topic they brought up from time to time was her absence of a love life, which in both their opinions was a result of the first subject, her weight and size. Her father said, whenever the subject came up, that if she’d lose some weight, she’d find a boyfriend. She knew that wasn’t necessarily the case, since plenty of girls who had perfect figures and were half her size couldn’t find a boyfriend. And other girls who were overweight were happily married, engaged, or had significant others. Romance, she knew, wasn’t directly tied to your weight, there were a lot of other factors. And her lack of self-esteem and their constantly picking on her and criticizing her didn’t help her with that problem. They were never proud of her or satisfied with what she was doing, although both of her parents had said they were proud when she graduated from Northwestern. They just wished it had been UCLA or USC, and that she had found a different job than the one in New York, preferably one in L.A. in a different line of work. Whatever she did was never right or enough for them. And they never seemed to realize how painful their constant criticism was for her, or that it was why she no longer wanted to live in L.A. She wanted to put a whole country between them. That way she only had to see them at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and maybe one day she wouldn’t go home for those either. But for now, she wanted to be with Gracie. Once Gracie left home, Victoria wasn’t sure when she’d go home or how often. They had succeeded in driving her away and didn’t even know it.
She and Gracie got in the back of the car on the way home from the airport. Their parents were talking in the front seat about what they were going to do for dinner. Jim offered to barbecue some steaks in the backyard, and he turned toward the backseat and winked at his older daughter. “I don’t need to ask you, I know you’re hungry. What about you, G, how do steaks sound for dinner?” he asked Gracie. Victoria stared out the window, looking like she’d been punched in the stomach. That was the reputation she had here, and the image they had of her, the one who was always hungry.
“Steaks sound fine, Dad,” Gracie said vaguely. “We can order Chinese if you don’t feel like making barbecue, or Victoria and I can go out for dinner if you and Mom are tired.” They both would have preferred it but didn’t want to insult their parents. And Jim insisted that he was happy to barbecue, as long as he and Victoria wouldn’t be the only ones eating. It was the second shot he had taken at her in five minutes. It was going to be a long summer if this was how it started. It was a reminder to her that nothing had changed. Four years away at college, and a diploma, and they still treated her like the resident uncontrollable eater.
They sat in the backyard that night and ate dinner. Christine decided to skip the steak and just ate salad. She said she’d eaten too much on the plane, and Grace and Victoria ate the steaks their father had made. Grace helped herself to a baked potato, but Victoria didn’t, and just put salad on her plate with the steak.
“Are you sick?” her father said with a straight face. “I’ve never seen you turn down a potato.”
“I’m fine, Dad,” Victoria said quietly. She didn’t enjoy the comment, and she had decided to start her latest diet the moment she got home. She stuck to it, even though they offered her ice cream for dessert, and would have commented on that too if she’d said yes.
After dinner the two girls sat in Gracie’s room, listening to music. Although Gracie’s taste was younger and wilder, they shared lots of things in common. Victoria was happy to be at home with her.
They spent a lot of time together that summer, once Grace got out of school, a few weeks after Victoria’s graduation. The family went to Santa Barbara for the long weekend of Memorial Day. And after they got back, Victoria drove Gracie everywhere. She became her personal chauffeur and companion, and the girls were inseparable for two months. Victoria saw some of her old school friends who had come back to L.A. after graduation, or stayed to go to school there. She didn’t have a lot of close friends, but it was nice to see familiar faces, particularly before she moved away. Two were going on to graduate school, and she thought she’d like to do that one day herself, but at NYU or Columbia. She saw several of the boys she’d known at school, who’d never paid particular attention to her. One of them asked her out for dinner and a movie, but they didn’t have much to say to each other. He had gone into real estate and was obsessed with money. He wasn’t impressed with her choice of a teaching career either. The only one who seemed to admire it was her younger sister, who thought it was noble. Everyone else thought she was foolish and reminded her that she’d be poor forever.
For Victoria, being at home for the summer was a chance to stock up on memories she would cherish forever. She and Gracie shared their dreams and fears and hopes, and their private peeves about their parents. Gracie thought they babied her too much, and she hated the way they bragged about her. Victoria’s main regret was that they didn’t. Their experiences in the same family were diametrically different. It was hard to believe they had the same parents. And although Gracie was the person responsible for making Victoria invisible to them and redundant, Victoria never held it against her, and she loved Grace for the little girl she was and had been, the baby who had come to her like an angel when she was seven.
And for Grace the summer they shared after Victoria’s graduation was a last chance to hang on to her big sister. They had breakfast together every morning. They laughed a lot. Victoria took Gracie out with her friends to the swim club. She played tennis with them, and they beat her every time, because they moved faster than she did. She helped Gracie shop for new clothes for school, and they decided what was hip and what wasn’t. They read fashion magazines together and commented on the new styles. They went to Malibu and other beaches, and sometimes they just lay in the backyard and said nothing, knowing that they were close and loving every minute of it.
It was an easy summer for Christine, since Victoria did everything for Gracie, which gave her all the free time she wanted—not to be with her daughters, but to play bridge with her friends, which was still her favorite pastime. And in spite of her protests, her father set up several interviews for Victoria to find a “better” job than the one she had waiting for her in New York. Victoria thanked him and discreetly canceled them all. She didn’t want to waste anyone’s time, nor her own. Her father was angry about it, and told her again that she was making all the wrong decisions about her future and would never amount to anything as a teacher. She was used to hearing things like that from him, and it didn’t sway her. She was the child they had never been proud of and had either ignored or made fun of.
She confessed to Gracie one day that summer that if she had the money, she would love to have a nose job, and maybe she would sometime. She said that she liked Gracie’s nose, and wanted one like it, or a “cute” nose of her own. Gracie was touched when she said it, and she told Victoria that she was beautiful anyway, even with her own nose. She didn’t need a new one. Gracie thought she was perfect just the way she was. It was the unconditional love that they had given each other all their lives and that Victoria thrived on, and so did Gracie. Their parents’ love was always conditional, depending on how they looked and if their achievements were valid according to their parents’ standards, and if they made their parents look good in the process. Gracie had basked in their praise all her life, because she was an accessory that enhanced them. And because Victoria was different and didn’t fit in, she had been emotionally starved by them, but not by Gracie. Grace had always lavished love on her and worshipped Victoria in every way. And Victoria adored her, wanted to protect her sister, and didn’t want her to turn out like her parents. She wished she could take Gracie with her. They both dreaded the day she would leave for New York.
Grace helped Victoria pick new items for her wardrobe that would look appropriate to her students when she taught high school. She had stuck to her guns and her diet this time, and could just get into a size twelve by the beginning of August. It was tight, but it fit. She had dropped several pounds over the summer, although her father asked her regularly if she didn’t want to lose some weight before she left for New York. He didn’t notice a single pound she lost; nor did her mother, who was always distressed about her daughter’s size, no matter what it was. The label they had put on her as a child was stuck there forever, like a tattoo. She was a “big girl,” which was their way of calling her a fat girl. She knew that if she weighed a hundred pounds and were disappearing, they would still see her as a “big girl.” They were the mirror of her inadequacies and her failings, and never of her victories. The only victories they saw were Grace’s. That was just the way they were.
The family went to Lake Tahoe together for a week before Victoria had to leave. They had a good time. The house their father had rented for them was very pretty. And both girls water-skied in the freezing lake, while their father steered the boat. The best part about her taking a teaching job, Gracie said, was that they would still be able to go on summer vacations together, and Victoria promised to have her come and visit in New York. She could even visit the school where she’d be teaching, and maybe sit in on one of her classes if they let her. She hoped they would.
And finally the day arrived for Victoria to leave. It was a day that she and Grace had dreaded, for all the goodbyes they didn’t want to say. They were both strangely silent on the way to the airport. They had stayed awake all the night before, and lay in one bed so they could talk. Victoria told Gracie she could move into her room, because she liked it better, but Gracie didn’t want to take her room away. She wanted her to have a place to come home to. They stood hugging each other for a long time at the airport, as tears streamed down their cheeks. Despite their many assurances to each other over the summer, they both knew that it would never be the same again. Victoria was going to a grown-up life in another city, and they had agreed that it was better for her. The one thing they both were certain would never change was how much they loved each other. The rest would be different from now on. It had to be. From the moment Victoria set foot on the plane, she would be a grown-up. And when she came home, it would only be to visit. There was nothing left for her here except painful memories and her sister Grace. Her parents had abandoned her emotionally the day she was born, when she didn’t look the way they’d planned, or anything like them. It had been unacceptable to them, and a crime they could never quite forgive her, and didn’t even try. Instead they made fun of her and diminished and dismissed her. They always made her feel unwanted and not really good enough for them.
“Take care of yourself, dear, and let us know how you are,” her mother said, hugging her loosely, as she always did, as though Victoria were too big for her to get her arms around, or as though her proportions might be contagious. There was too little of Christine internally for her to give much to anyone else, except Jim. She gave him all she had, and always shortchanged her girls, even Grace. She was only too happy to let Victoria stand in for her with Grace.
“I’ll find you a job when you give up teaching,” her father said as he hugged her. “It won’t take long,” he confirmed with a grin. “You’ll get tired of starving.” Despite the words, he pressed a check into her hand. It was for a thousand dollars. It was a generous gift, and she was glad to have it. It would help with her rent or the deposit for an apartment that she had yet to find.
She and Grace hugged one last time, and then she had to wrench herself away and go through the security line. When she turned back to wave, she and Gracie were both crying, and her father had his arm around their mother’s shoulders. Gracie was standing alone, and the look that passed between the two girls from the distance said it all. Victoria knew that they would be allies forever. She touched her heart, blew Grace a kiss, and then she was gone, to her new life. She knew that her life in L.A. was only her history now.