“You don’t remember what this country went through in the sixties,” Therese said. “But it was quite something. Mrs. Higgens is right about one thing, there weren’t any black Beach Club members back then, were there, Bill?”
“I’m embarrassed to say, the Hayeses are the first black Beach Club members ever. Wait, that’s not true. The Krupinskis, they were black.”
“Well, she was black, he was Polish, remember?” Therese said. “They belonged to the club in, what, ’83 and ’84? They had that gorgeous café au lait child, the daughter.”
“For God’s sake,” Cecily said. “Café au lait? You’re talking about them like they’re something exotic off the menu. You’re as bad as Mrs. Higgens.”
Therese gave her a strange look. “It’s an expression, darling. Okay? My, you’re touchy. And why aren’t you eating?”
“This whole situation has got me really upset, okay?” Cecily said.
Bill frowned. “You’re still so young,” he said. “You have no idea how rotten people can be, but you’ll learn.”
“Bill, that’s depressing,” Therese said.
Cecily walked into the living room, to the bay window that overlooked the Beach Club. It was getting dark and the hotel guests emerged from their rooms to sit on the beach so they could watch the fireworks. Every year, Cecily and her parents watched the fireworks from the widow’s walk. It was amazing to watch from that high up, with nothing separating you and the sky. Cecily turned around. Her parents were eating their sandwiches, munching on the chips.
“I have some news,” Cecily said.
“More news?” Therese said. “More news aside from the Mrs. John Higgens news?”
“We’re proud of the job you’ve been doing, by the way,” Bill said, his voice getting dangerously sappy. “You handled this Mrs. Higgens situation with aplomb.”
“Thanks,” Cecily said flatly. Wishing her parents would stop being so nice. “Okay-here goes-bombs away. My news, you’re ready?”
She was terrified: like jumping off the high dive at the indoor pool at school, like the first time Gabriel unwrapped a condom. She prayed to God, and to her dead brother, W.T., and to Gabriel. Please let them understand.
“I’ve decided to defer a year before I go to college, because I want to do some traveling. So I’m not going to UVA in September. I’m flying to Rio instead.”
Cecily shifted her attention to the parking lot: two BMWs, one Rover, one Jag. Mack’s Jeep. Lacey’s Buick. The thousand scattered pieces of broken shell, the million grains of sand. When she felt confident enough to turn back around, her parents were both staring at her. Her mother had mayonnaise in the corner of her mouth. “Honey, I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re telling us.”
“I’ve sent a slip to the admissions office at the University of Virginia, telling them I’m deferring a year. I’m traveling through South America with Gabriel instead. Which part don’t you understand?”
Therese turned to Bill. “Bill?” Tears in her voice.
Bill took Therese’s hand. “Cecily, wait a minute. Can you just wait a minute, please? Why are you telling us this? Are you trying to hurt us?”
“It’s not about you guys,” Cecily said. “It’s about me. I need to break away.”
“But you have college,” Therese said. “That’s what Middlesex was for. That’s what prep school means-college preparatory.”
“What about you, Mom? You never finished college.” Cecily’s mouth had an acidic tomato taste. “You never graduated from Hunter.”
“I’m ashamed of that,” Therese said. “I didn’t have the smarts for school that you do.”
“Don’t pick on your mother, Cecily,” Bill said. “That won’t help you.”
“Lots of people take a year off,” Cecily said. “Why do you think UVA even has such a thing as a deferral form? Because it happens all the time. Everyone does it.”
“Everyone does not do it,” Bill said. “You know I hate hyperbole.”
“Well, you know I hate it when you use words like hyperbole,” Cecily said.
“If you want to go to South America, we can take you over Christmas break,” Therese said. “It’ll be fun!” She tittered. “I’ve always wanted to go to Iguazu Falls.”
“I’ve always wanted to meet the girl from Ipanema,” Bill said.
“I’m going with Gabriel,” Cecily said. “He’s a very nice person. You have no way of knowing that because he wasn’t at graduation. He had to fly back early. But trust me, he’s nice. We love each other. We’ve been in love for a while now.”
“You can’t go away with some boy, some foreign boy we’ve never met. You’re a child, Cecily. So you can forget that idea right now,” Therese said. She lifted her dinner plate, and Cecily’s untouched plate of food. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m counting on you taking over the hotel, Cecily,” Bill said. “Your mother and I haven’t told you everything that’s been going on, but I need to retire soon. You can’t just go running off to another continent. Being a part of this family comes with responsibility.”
“I don’t want the hotel,” Cecily said. “I’m sorry to say it, Daddy, but I’m not interested.”
“That’s absurd. You can’t be not interested. It was Grandpa Bill’s, it’s mine, it’s going to be yours.”
“Give it to Mack,” Cecily said. “He wants it, I don’t.”
“It doesn’t work like that. I can’t give it to Mack.”
“Why not?” Cecily asked. “He’d do a better job than me. Besides, when Grandpa Bill died, you wanted the club, you wanted to build hotel rooms. I don’t want that. You can’t make me want that.”
Bill put his hand over his heart. “Oh, God.”
Therese stood behind him. “Your father is sick, Cecily. We didn’t want you to worry, but he’s sick. You can’t tell him things like this or he’s going to have a heart attack.”
Cecily rolled her eyes. “You guys are too much. Giving me a guilt trip, telling me Daddy’s sick? You should have had more children. You should have had more than just me.”
Therese winced. “How can you say that? You know about W.T.! For years we tried to have children, for ten years, and finally there was you. I’m sorry you don’t like it, but some of us are not as fortunate as you, my dear, picking and choosing the way we’d like our lives to go. Most of us just have to take what life deals us, but I am not going to stand here and deal with you telling your father you don’t want to be a part of the family tradition that has sustained you and given you a good life. I am not going to listen to you tell me where you are going with what strange boy.” Therese wound her white streak of hair around her finger. A Mom trick, to make Cecily feel guilty. “Have you slept with this boy?”
Cecily laughed, looked back out the window. She remembered the startled expression on the cleaning lady’s face. “Mother.”
“Mother, what? Was I supposed to assume my fifteen-year-old was away at school having sex?”
“I’m eighteen, Mother, okay? Can we establish that fact?”
“You’re not going to Brazil,” Bill said.
Cecily held out her arms. “Put handcuffs on me, then,” she said. “Put handcuffs on and lock me in the house, because that’s what it’s going to take to keep me here.”
Therese started to cry. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to us,” she said. “I can’t believe that after what I had to endure before, I now have to endure this.”