Summertime

Summer is blue and yellow and white, and the pool is the center of our lives. My mom hosts both water ballet and swimming classes. I float on a blue rubber raft and daydream to “Theme from a Summer Place” and “Mack the Knife” blaring thinly from the transistor radio that sits on a round aluminum table, yellow umbrella in the middle. We kids are water-logged, red-eyed and worn out by the time we go to bed. Summer is hamburgers and chicken sizzling on the grill. We have barbecues and pool parties just about every weekend with our parents’ friends and our own.  In the midst of one party, Mom hears music coming from inside the house, goes in to see where it’s coming from, and there’s a complete stranger sitting there playing the piano in our living room.

“I heard all the fun and the door was wide open so I just came in. Hope you don’t mind.” 

She doesn’t, and brings him through the house to the backyard, hands him a drink, and he joins the party. 

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I’m 16. On a particularly hot June afternoon, wearing my first spaghetti strap dress and a new pair of kitten heels, I walk around the corner to my friend Debbie’s backyard wedding reception. There are whispers that she’s already pregnant but that’s okay because she and Rick are madly in love, and they’re absolutely adorable together. Once there I wander around and try to socialize but my heels keep sinking into the grass, I’m positively wilting under the sun, and I’m always so uncomfortable making small talk. 

Refreshments are being served on the patio, and Debbie’s sister offers me a nice cold orange juice drink called a screwdriver. I’ve never had a cocktail before, never even thought about it, but this tastes so good and is so refreshing that I practically gulp it down, then go back for another. Conversation comes more easily now but pretty soon I start feeling kind of dizzy so I head home.

Wobbling up the driveway, I hear splashing and lone calls of Marco answered by multiple Polos. My brothers and their friends are in the pool, Daddy’s manning the barbecue, the grownups are on their way to getting sloshed. I briefly say hi to everyone; somebody in the pool splashes me. I’m not feeling too good, head into the house and straight to the bathroom, sit down in front of the toilet and barf my guts out for a while. My mom comes in to find me lying on the floor, laughs and says, “So now you know.”