Page 38 of On Fire Island
She continued, explaining how she and Jake had spent the rest of her sixth birthday fishing in the ocean, and they caught a big snapper for dinner. And how when they arrived home, sunburned and beat, her mother was standing in front of the house with a tall lanky acrobat named Earl, who she said turned her life upside down. She was carrying one of those big round Tupperware cake holders.
I had gotten one of those cake holders as a shower gift, and it was now sitting on a shelf at Housing Works on Columbus Avenue along with a waffle maker and a juicer. I had cleaned out the kitchen, imagining that never-used plastic cake holder accompanying Ben on every move he made for the rest of his days.
Melissa quickly informed Jake that she and Earl wanted to marry and that she would need a divorce. He was fine with it, but then she said she thought it was time that Dylan lived with her, with them—on the road. She said that now that she was a happy woman, she would be a good mother.
Dylan was sitting at the Kismet Inn, rolling her paper napkinbetween her fingers, like a rosary. I could tell that it wasn’t the sullen mood she had anticipated on her seventeenth birthday, especially on one of Matty’s few days off. Matty clearly felt badly for pushing her to talk. Especially on her birthday. She had to finish the story though. It was too late to stop.
“She sat me down and apologized for having left,” Dylan continued. “She said, ‘A girl needs a mother more than a father,’ and, ‘I know it seems as if I abandoned you, but I needed to leave here in order to come back as a capable, fulfilled person.’ ”
It sounded like her mother had memorized the part in that old movie,Kramer vs. Kramer, where Meryl Streep begs the judge for custody of her son.
“She asked me if I would want to live with her—to travel all over the country and see new things instead of living on this little island all the time. She said there were other kids and a mobile school, and she made it sound so awesome. Back then, I had barely left Fire Island besides going to my grandma’s in Islip. And it did sound exciting. I mean, anything would, let alone a traveling circus. But I explained that I couldn’t leave my dad. That he would miss me too much. She said that I could come here every summer to be with him. I thought about it for a few minutes, I really did. And then she gave me a birthday present. It was a pink tutu with layers of tulle and a rainbow of butterflies sewn on it.”
Matty laughed at the thought of Dylan in a tutu.
“I thought it was a joke too. But then she asked me to try it on. I did. I was still dirty from the day. You know: fish guts under my nails, sand deep in my hair that even a long shower wouldn’t get at. I pulled it on, wanting to please her, but when I did, I burst into tears. ‘I can’t leave my dad,’ I cried.
“ ‘You can. It’s our turn to be together,’ she said. ‘Let’s have some cake.’
“We went into the kitchen, where skinny Earl was sitting at the table drinking a glass of water. My dad was standing at the sink. My mother went into the cabinet and took out four plates, and then four forks from the drawer, as if she still lived there. I remember thinking she had a lot of nerve going into our stuff like that. It really bothered me. And then she opened up the Tupperware and announced that she had baked a cake, just like the recipe from Rachel’s. It was vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. My dad finally spoke. He said, ‘Dylan doesn’t like vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. She likes chocolate cake with vanilla frosting. If you’d been here, you would know that.’
“He left and went upstairs, and I sat at the table with them and ate the cake, even though I didn’t like it.”
Dylan continued telling the story in such detail that I felt like I was there. I tried to think back to what I remembered from being six years old and came up with nothing. My guess was that the whole event was traumatic and therefore she remembered it vividly.
“Dale from the post office called a few days later saying she had a certified letter for my dad. It was a request for custody from a big law firm that the circus used. My dad was quiet for a few days after that. He barely spoke until he sat me down and told me that my mom wanted custody and that if I wanted to go and live with her, he wouldn’t be mad. I thought he didn’t want me anymore. I remember his exact words, ‘Maybe it would be good for you to have a woman around. To take you dress shopping and to have a pretty pink room with a flowery blanket.”
Melissa had shown Dylan a picture of the little room she had set up for her in her trailer. She must have shown it to Jake, too. She told her dad that she hated pink and didn’t want to go. She begged. He wiped tears from his eyes. She had never seen him crybefore. He hired a big lawyer too, who sent Melissa a certified letter saying that she had deserted them and he would take her to court. And she backed off, just like that.
“In the end, I figured she didn’t want me that bad after all.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you never told me any of that, Dyl. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK. I guess I always thought you had the perfect family, and I didn’t want you to feel bad for me.”
“Not anymore.”
“Guess not. At least we can know better, you know, with our own families one day.”
“I hope. So what did the letter say, and why didn’t you tear it up like always?”
“It basically says since I’m leaving home that now it’s up to me and her what kind of relationship we have. And she said she would love to meet me at college drop-off—and help decorate my room. She said we could go to Urban Outfitters and get all the latest stuff, her treat.”
“That’s nice.”
“Do you think my dad would feel badly?”
“About not decorating and going shopping at Urban Outfitters? I doubt it.”
“I don’t know. I just want to fit in.”
“Dylan, you’re going to the best marine biology program in the country, and I bet you’ll know more than some of your professors. I wouldn’t worry about fitting in.”
“That’s not what I mean. Like with the city kids, you know how I have to ask you what the hell they’re talking about sometimes?”
“That hasn’t happened since we were, like, twelve.”
“Well, I’m still insecure from it.”
