“Your room is filthy. You think you’ll catch a husband with those habits?”
She caught her mother’s anger on a daily basis. Lola Beckett didn’t like Phoebe—not the way she adored Deb. Her mother and Deb matched, with their curly brown hair, curves, and practicality bred into every cell.
“Our little shiksa girl,” her mother called Phoebe, with her straight, near-black hair and the eyes her father had christened California blue. Her wire-skinny body also aggravated her mother. After preparing cottage cheese and Jell-O for Deb and herself, she slapped extra-thick peanut butter on slabs of buttered rye bread for Phoebe, who then nibbled at half the sandwich before throwing the rest in the garbage. Phoebe planned to stay skinny. Jake admired her thinness, seeing her tight body as his win.
Her father gave his trademark three sharp raps on the door. “Pheebs, don’t drive your mother crazy. Come on out, honey.”
“Don’t ‘honey’ the girl,” her mother said.
“Let me handle this, Lola.” He knocked again. “Enough, Phoebe.”
Hi, Jake, Phoebe mouthed at the mirror. She opened her eyes as wide as she could without appearing crazy, mimicking the magazine models who appeared so thrilled with life.
“He’s holding the screwdriver,” her mother warned as Phoebe unlocked the door so quickly her mother almost fell into the room.
“Jeez, Mom. What’s going on with you?”
“Lose the tone, missy. I’m protecting you.”
“From what?” Phoebe widened her eyes at her father.
“Don’t look at Daddy when I’m talking. You’re getting too serious with the boy.” Her mother blew out cigarette smoke disgustedly. “Not a boy. Almost a man!”
“He just turned eighteen, Mom.” Phoebe placed her hands on her hips.
“You’re only fifteen. A child.”
Phoebe blinked away tears of anger—afraid her mother would notice forbidden mascara dusted on her lashes. “He makes me happy!”
“Happy.” Her mother spit out the word as though repeating something corrosive. “?‘Happy’ only means one thing at his age. I don’t trust him.”
“Deb met Ben at fourteen, but you act like he’s perfect.”
“Ben is a mensch. Smart and good.”
Daddy put a hand on her mother’s arm. “Lola, sweetheart, he is a go-getter.”
Phoebe smiled, but before her glee grew all the way—she had found a go-getter!—Daddy swiveled back to her with stern eyes. “Your mother’s right: you’re too intense with this guy. He steamed up your glasses. Or you steamed his. Either way, neither of you is thinking straight. We want you to be a good girl, Phoebe. Promise us—”
The doorbell rang before Phoebe could hear the guarantee that her father wanted to exact from her, but she’d have promised every star in the sky to end the conversation.
“I promise to be perfect. Always!” She grinned, not worrying which direction her face pointed. A father loved you from every angle. A mother’s job, Phoebe supposed, was judging you whatever the viewpoint.
“That’s my girl,” he said. “We can trust you, but your mother worries.”
“Just don’t think about anything serious.” Her mother spoke faster as Phoebe backed toward the stairs, desperate to race down and greet Jake. “Your life is in front of you. You’re bright and talented. You can do anything, go anywhere. Don’t throw anything away.”
No more fighting tonight. Freedom beckoned.
“Do I look pretty?” She almost sang the words as she pirouetted for her parents.
“For goodness’ sake, Phoebe,” her mother answered, “you’re never anything but pretty. You think beauty’s the solution, but in truth, your gorgeous face is the problem.”
Even beauty could be a curse in her mother’s world.
? ? ?
“What a looker you are.” Jake brought Phoebe closer and hummed the melody of the Drifters’ latest hit in her ear before murmuring a few words of the song. “This magic moment, when your lips are close to mine.”
All around, couples swayed in the dim light of Jake’s friend’s finished basement.
Jake tightened his grip, and she leaned against his broad chest. He towered over Phoebe, preventing her from peeking over his shoulder to see if Helen saw them dancing. Last night she and Helen had spent an hour on the phone, trading time being in love. First Helen talked Alan, Alan, Alan, then Phoebe babbled Jake, Jake, Jake, until they’d nibbled every morsel of their sumptuous elation.
Secretly, Phoebe thought Jake tons more exciting than Alan, who’d planned his entire life by sixteen. Just about every girl in Erasmus Hall High School would pick Jake’s sardonic humor and tough-guy looks over Alan’s nose-to-the-grindstone personality.
Jake planned to conquer the world. Phoebe believed him capable of anything. Except, perhaps, being a doctor. Or a dentist, like her father. She laughed against his starched shirt.
“What’s so funny?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Cute ears. Like little shells. Did someone spin you out of gold?”
“I’m imagining you as a doctor. You don’t have the patience for patients.”
“Very funny. Measuring me as husband material? Are you planning on marrying a doctor?”
She drew back. “Whoa. My parents warned me about going too fast.”
“Your parents don’t like me?” Jake’s wounded look touched her.
“Don’t be silly. How could they not like you? They barely know you.”
“So why are they worrying about you going too fast?”
“I’m only fifteen.”
“Years go by in a flash, as my father reminds me every day.” He pressed his hand against her back. “You won’t always be young.”
Phoebe frowned, not enjoying being yanked out of their magic moment. With his words her skin dried up, her shiny hair fell limp and drab, and her taut waist expanded enough to require a corset. “Good work finding the world’s most not-romantic thing to say.”
“Hey! You may not always be young, but you’ll always be gorgeous. You’re a thoroughbred. You won’t let yourself go. When my mother married my father, he considered her a babe. His hands could span her waist. I wonder if you’re small enough.”
Jake circled Phoebe’s midsection with his hands and squeezed. She sucked in until her stomach hurt, even knowing that he’d exaggerated.
“Now my father would have to hire a guy to help hug my mother all the way around.” His crooked grin shot sparks straight through her despite his appalling words.
“Meanie! What a way to talk about your mother.”
“Ha. She says worse about my father and me. Anyway, you’ve seen her, right?”
Sadly, yes. Phoebe and his parents both turned up to watch Jake lead the swim team to victory a few weeks after she and Jake began dating. Helen had nudged her and nodded in the direction of an overweight couple.