Chapter 16

The next day, Mrs. Parsons and I went to the country club in her car. After my lesson, we played nine holes and then had lunch together. I hadn't played that well, and I felt a little upset about Brenda's hanging up on me, and her refusal to take my call that morning. It was two thirty, so I changed and went to the pool. Brenda was there, sitting with four other kids that I'd seen around the pool before. I went over and said hello to her, asking her if she wanted to start practicing early.

"I don't think so. It's a nice day, and I'd rather stay here, talking with my friends." She didn't invite me to join in, or even to sit down with her and her friends. The way she talked to me made it seem like I was intruding on her by even coming over and speaking with her. I guess I got upset, and I know I was embarrassed by her casual dismissal of me. I turned and walked over to the other side of the pool, putting my towel on a lounge chair about fifty feet away from where she was. I sat back in the chair, pretending to be enjoying the sun, and the nice day.

After fifteen minutes or so, Brenda decided to go swimming. When she got up and went into the water, one of the boys she had been sitting with decided to follow after her. I turned over, laying on my stomach, letting her know that I wasn't paying attention to her or her friends now. Inside, I was really mad at her. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. She never once explained why she got mad at me. I guess she thought I could read her mind. I heard her laughing and talking in the pool, but I refused to turn around to see what she was doing.

By the time I just couldn't stand not looking anymore, I decided to get up, take my towel, and leave the pool area. I'd look over at Brenda in the pool, as I was leaving. That would look natural, not like I was trying to find out why she was laughing so much, or talking to that boy. When I did that, I saw the two of them standing in the water, up to Brenda's neck. They were about three feet apart, and he was saying something to her, something that she seemed happy to be hearing. I turned away and started for the pool gate.

"Kenny, where are you going?" I turned around and looked at her. At first, I was going to just shout out something mean to her, but I decided not to.

"I'm going to change and call Hans to come get me. I'll see you."

"Don't leave yet. I think I've changed my mind about practicing. Meet me over at the tennis courts in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"I don't think so Brenda, I think I'd rather go home now and talk with one of my friends." I walked over to the pool gate and went out. I had to walk over to the member's locker room and change clothes before I went upstairs to call Hans to come get me. When I got to the pay phones, Brenda was waiting for me. She was still in her bathing suit and had a towel wrapped around her too.

"Why are you mad?" Brenda seemed upset that I thought I had a right to be mad too. I guess she thought mad was a one way street, and she was the only one entitled to get that way. When she hung up on me, I'd been mostly puzzled by it, although not too surprised that she'd do it. When she told her mother she didn't want to take my call that morning, I started being mad, but I didn't say anything to her mother about being that way. But this little display of hers by the pool was more than I was willing to swallow from her. She was about to learn that I didn't need her to be my friend, and wasn't willing to keep letting her always decide to turn the friendliness on and off all by herself.

"I'm not that mad, I just decided I don't want to be your friend anymore. It's too hard trying to keep from making you mad, and when I do make you mad, you never tell me why. I'm going to find another friend, one who isn't so temperamental."

"You know why I'm mad, it's because of what you said about me doing to you what Claudia did to Richard."

"Okay. I'm sorry. Didn't your mother tell you I asked her to say I was sorry."

"She said something like that, but you never said it to me. This isn't the first time you've said things like that to me either."

"I'm sorry. I won't say things like that to you anymore."

"Good. Quit pouting, let's go practice."

"I'm going home. You go back to your friends. I told you I'm finished with being your friend." I stepped around her and put money in the coin box of the phone. When I got a dial tone, I called the house. When Gerta answered, I asked her to have Hans come get me. After I hung up, Brenda was still standing there. She was crying. I didn't want to watch her cry so I tried to step around her. Just as I was going past her, she hit me on my back. It didn't really hurt, not physically at least, so I just kept walking away from her, down the stairs, towards the path out to the parking lot. I didn't look back at her, or reply to any of the things she was yelling at me. When I got to the parking lot, I kept walking down the country club's driveway, towards the street below. I got there about five minutes before Hans got there to give me my ride home.

All that afternoon and evening, I was a sour puss. I didn't even go in the kitchen to talk to Gerta or try to get a snack before dinner. I was sitting on my bed, listening to the radio, when my phone started ringing in a funny way. I picked it up, and it was Gerta telling me that I had a phone call. I asked her who it was, and she told me it was the Connor girl.

"Tell her I don't want to speak with her."

"Shatze, she's crying."

"Good. I still don't want to talk to her."

"I'll tell her you'll call her back?"

"No. Don't tell her anything except I don't want to talk to her. Tell her I told you to ask her to quit calling me here." Gerta didn't say anything, and my line went dead, with no dial tone. I hung it up and tried to figure out why I was being like I was. I was acting like I really didn't want to speak with Brenda again, but I really did want to. I couldn't just tell her that I wanted her to stop doing what she always did whenever I made her mad. What I was doing was the only way I knew to make her see how much I didn't like her doing that all the time.

At dinner, Mrs. Parsons and Bea were both asking me questions about Brenda. I knew that Gerta must have told them both about Brenda's call, and about my refusal to speak with her. I tried telling them both that I didn't want to discuss it with them, but Mrs. Parsons told me that she had a need to know about whatever situation I was in, that it was her duty. She asked me if I wanted to go somewhere private after dinner to tell her about it.

"It isn't really anything. Brenda keeps getting mad at me, without ever telling me why she's mad. Today, I told her I didn't want to be her friend anymore."

"This was before she called here?"

"Yes. I went to the pool today, after you left, and Brenda was there talking to some people. When I went over to say hello, she said she didn't want to practice tennis today, and would rather talk with her friends. She made it plain that she wasn't including me as one of those friends, and that she didn't want to talk with me. It was only when I told her I didn't want to practice tennis with her, that she wanted to talk to me again."

"You said she didn't want to practice." This was from Bea. Mrs. Parsons looked at her, like she was mad at her for speaking.

"She didn't at first, but when she saw me leaving the pool, then she did want to." I answered Bea, because I didn't mind telling her about this too now. If I told her and Mrs. Parsons, I was sure one of them would know what I should do. Mrs. Parsons asked me why Brenda got mad at me in the first place. I knew she'd be mad at me if I told her what I'd asked Brenda for. I didn't want to lie to her though. "It was personal. I said something to her that made her mad."

"Something you're ashamed of having said?"

"No, I'm not ashamed. Maybe I shouldn't have asked her, but I'm not ashamed. She could have just said no. I've already told her I was sorry, several times. This isn't the first time she got mad at me without explaining why. That's why I'm mad. If I keep letting her do that, she'll just do it all the time."

"He has a good point there. You know he does." Bea looked back at Mrs. Parsons. Even though she knew Mrs. Parsons didn't want her taking part in this discussion, Bea kept herself right in the middle of it. Mrs. Parsons stood up then.

"Kenny, I don't think we're getting anywhere right now. It's obvious to me that you believe you have this situation in hand. Very well, we'll leave it at that. If you want or need my counsel, you need only ask for it." She turned around and left the dining room, heading for the staircase and her bedroom. After she was gone, Bea told me that I was definitely doing the right thing.

"Kid, you don't ever want her thinking she's got you pussy whipped, and that's exactly how she's been acting so far. She feels "the power", and needs to find out there are limits to it. You'll teach her those limits this way. In fact, you didn't take it far enough. You should have told her off in front of those other friends of hers, let her know how it felt being talked down to in public. You're too nice to her. Women don't respect nice."

"I don't want to make her more mad, Bea. I want her to stop getting mad."

"You're doing the right thing, believe me. Let her think she's lost out on her chance of bagging you. When we were all at the pool before, it was so obvious that she thought she had you trained. She even told us about it. Her mother has been advising her too. It's all part of the con. She shows you a little something, and then pretends to not understand when you ask her for more."

"I'm sure she likes me, Bea, from some of the things she did when she wasn't mad at me."

"Because she kissed you and touched your wiener? Doesn't mean anything. She let you play with her little treasure?"

"Only a little."

"She's just baiting the hook, kid. That's how we all do it. She's interested, and maybe she does like you, but it's been on her terms so far, not yours. You need to change that, show her who the boss is. I told you yesterday you should play the field. It was good advice then, and it's even better advice now. Make her the one that's always a little bit off balance. Make her care about you more than you care about her."

"Why can't it be equal?"

"It just can't be. It never is. There always has to be one of you that cares more than the other. So far, it's been you, and you haven't been that happy. See how you like it when it's her that's always trying to get on your good side."

I left Bea, going back up to my room. I locked my bedroom door, turning off my light. I liked the quiet that darkness always brings. I could think better in the dark because there were fewer distractions then. I thought about what Bea had said, but even if she was right about things, I didn't want to boss Brenda around. There were things about Bea that I didn't like. One of these things was the way Bea always needed to find an advantage over people. Bea didn't have any soft side. It would be hard to ever trust her. I felt the opposite about Gerta, Mrs. Parsons and Mr. Chalmers. Even Mr. Parsons did favors without having to be paid for them.

In the dark, I started making a mental list of things I'd like to see changed in Brenda. The way she always talked about money and wanting to be rich was first on my list. Her thinking it was always okay for her to get mad, usually without ever explaining why. Her always wanting her own way, and expecting to get it. That was about it.

There were so many things that I liked about her that I wasn't going to try to list them. She made me feel good when we were together, when she wasn't either mad at me, or talking about being rich, or marrying a rich person. I really hated the thought of not having her for my friend, but not as much as I hated the thought of letting her keep on doing the same thing to me over and over again. I knew that Bea was right about that one thing though. If I let her keep doing it, she wouldn't stop. I turned on my reading light by the bed, and got up to get undressed.

I only had two people I could discuss this with, Mrs. Parsons or Bea. Neither one of them seemed right for helping me come to a good decision, or for finding a way to solve this without either me giving in, or Brenda being forced to change in a way I didn't want to make her change. I thought about Mr. Chalmers, but I didn't think he'd be able to help me make a good choice either. Really, of everyone I knew, Brenda was the one person I'd have the most faith in to help me find a way for us get along better. Not the Brenda that was mad at me, or the one that saw me as a possible rich catch. The other Brenda, the one I thought I loved. How could I get in contact with that Brenda?

The next morning, I was up, cleaned and dressed before seven. I went into the kitchen and had my breakfast in there. Gerta seemed a little bit angry with me. I figured it was because of what I said about being glad about Brenda's crying. I told her that I really liked Brenda, but she kept getting mad at me every time we were together, or on the phone, and then she wouldn't tell me what I did wrong before she got mad.

"She wasn't mad mit you when she called, mein liebchen. She was sad. Why you want to make her more sad?"

"She makes me mad too. I tried to make up with her, but she didn't want to. She expects me to be nice to her, but she doesn't have the same rules for her being nice to me."

"Call her, tell her why you're upset. Ask her what she will do about that. To be mad back, it solves nothing for either one."

"The way she is, Gerta, if I called her, she wouldn't talk to me, and that would just make me mad at her again."

"I'll call her. You sit there and eat your breakfast. I'll tell her she better talk to you. She will do it." Gerta picked up the telephone, and I went back to eating my pancakes. She was on the telephone for a long time. It didn't sound like she was talking to Brenda. After about five minutes, she hung up the phone. "Now we wait. Florence will talk to her, then Brenda will call you."

"Who's Florence?"

"She is like me, a cook and in charge of housekeeping for the Connor family. She doesn't have a husband, or any other help over there. Sometimes, we talk, or go out to a movie together. She is very nice for an American woman."

Gerta and Hans had been in America for over forty years. Both were American citizens, but only on paper. In their hearts, they were German. I'd have to say this was more true of Hans than Gerta, but she said things like that all the time too. It wasn't political with either of them, it was more they believed everything German was just naturally better, and German things were their standard for excellence. They had come to America, separately, in their teens, both of their mothers having gotten remarried to American GI's after World War II. Neither Hans or Gerta had wanted to leave Germany, but had been forced to do so because of their ages. They had met shortly after Gerta came to the U.S., and had fallen in love soon after, and been married. Their original plan had been to marry, find work, and save up the money to return to their native homeland.

Gerta had gotten a job in the Chalmers household first, hired to do housekeeping, and some fill in cooking for the regular cook on her days off. Hans was hired later to assist the regular family retainer who had gotten too old to continue caring for the upkeep on the vehicles, the house and the grounds. As the years passed, and their responsibilities grew, their planned return to Germany kept being postponed, until it was now planned as something they'd do when they both retired. Mostly, they talked about it now, each of them knowing that it was more a fantasy than something that would ever be realized. America was their home now, and had been for over two thirds of their lives. They wouldn't ever admit it to each other, but neither wanted to leave their adopted country any longer.

The phone rang, and Gerta picked it up. I had been sitting in the kitchen, talking with Gerta after I'd finished my breakfast, and she had been telling me about the new brochures she had gotten depicting an area of Germany that she and Hans were considering for their retirement years. I heard her speaking on the phone for a minute, then she signaled to me that the call was actually for me. I pointed towards the living room, meaning I'd take it in there, but she put her hand over the receiver and told me it would be better if I took it in my room instead. I left the kitchen and ran upstairs to my room.

I lifted up my phone and I heard Gerta talking to Brenda. I didn't want to eavesdrop, so I told Gerta I was on the line.

"Kenny, why are you being like this?" Brenda launched right into her attack, still trying to make it seem like it was me that was being unreasonable, that she was the victim.

"Is this the only reason you called me, Brenda? If it is, I don't want to keep fighting with you."

"I'm not the one who's fighting, Kenny, you are. I don't even know why you're upset with me. Flo said that you wanted to talk to me, that's why I called you."

"Flo must have made a mistake. I told Gerta that I was unhappy that I'd lost you for a friend. I think she was hoping to get us back to talking again, thinking we could work our problems out."

"I want that too."

"I don't want to be friends with you anymore, Brenda, not the way you do things. You only want to be friends when I'm doing exactly what you want me to do. When I make a mistake, you get mad, and then you do something to punish me, without even telling me why you're mad."

"I don't have to tell you, it's obvious."

"Not to me it isn't. Why did you hang up that last time?"

"I already told you at the club. That thing you said about me doing what Claudia did for Richard."

"Why didn't you just tell me no, rather than getting mad and hanging up?"

"Because I was mad. It's the same thing every time with you, Kenny. You do something, and then pretend you don't see anything wrong with what you've done."

"Bea told me that you're just playing a game with me, doing what your mother tells you to try to get me trained to do what you want."

"She's crazy then. I'm trying to get along with you, but you make it hard, because you're always saying or doing things that you aren't supposed to. I do talk to my mother, but she's on your side half the time, like right now. She says I need to have more patience with the things you say, but she doesn't know all the things you've said, or what you've done to me already. She still thinks we're arguing about what kind of kissing we'll do."

"I told you before, that I don't know anything about how to get along with girls. You shouldn't get mad if I do something wrong, you should just explain to me so I can learn better."

"You already learned all about girls from Bea."

"I only learned about sex from Bea, and about her ideas on how to do things. I never felt the way about Bea that I do about you. She doesn't have the power to make me feel bad like you do. I don't love her."

I heard Brenda gasp into the phone. She didn't say anything for awhile, but I heard her breathing, so I knew she was still there at least. My heart was beating faster because I'd just given Brenda information that she could use to crush me. I hadn't meant to tell her that, not until I'd gotten to a point where I thought I could trust her to not use that against me. I'd gone ahead and done what I'd always promised myself I'd never do, I'd made myself vulnerable to someone else.

"Does that mean you love me?" Brenda's voice had lowered. She spoke to me in a different way, maybe less guarded, but certainly not with any kind of anger.

"I want to love you, but you make it hard to do."

"Kenny, if you did love me, I'd try not to get mad at you, I promise. If I really thought you loved me, those things you say to me would seem different, less scary to me. I'm not saying I'd want to do any of them, not right away, and I thought that was what you were trying to talk me into before. If you loved me, it would be different."

"I'm not sure if I love you, only that it is a lot different feeling I have with you than with Bea. I know I don't love her. I can't tell because I never felt like this before. I don't think I'd be this upset with you if I didn't love you."