The Gum Thief - Douglas Coupland [68]
It’s been a long week, Roger. Things with Mom haven’t been so hot, and I’m tired from the gym and the jet lag and all the shifts I’m doing. Everyone knows I messed up majorly. Instead of getting, “How was your trip!” I’m getting, “Oh, uh, lookin’ good, Bethany,” followed by averted eyes. I suppose they’ll forget this episode soon enough— the gossip must be fading, though who knows what Kyle’s been emailing them. God, has it been only four weeks? It feels like a year. It feels like—or rather, I feel like a different person. So Europe worked its magic in the end, but . . . this isn’t the person I wanted to become.
Gotta go, Roger. Jamie’s picking up a Maltipoo puppy for her father’s surprise Xmas present and I’m covering her shift. I’ve never worked Aisle 9-South before. Life is such a rich buffet of experiences.
How are you, Roger? Tell me. I’m listening.
B.
DeeDee
Roger,
I’m bringing you more Glove Pond theme food: Triscuits, orange cheddar cheese and (instead of Scotch) a $20 bottle of Sonoma Valley chardonnay. I’m assuming you won’t answer the door when I ring, so I’ll put it in this box outside your door and hope the raccoons don’t steal it. There’s no trace of the last care package I left you, so I think it’ll be okay.
Bethany told me what happened at the store. What a disgraceful way to treat such an amazing piece of work— Glove Pond is marvellous, Roger, and you shouldn’t pay attention to a bunch of ignorant fetuses. They’re jealous. I mean, in an era when nobody achieves anything, you started a novel— that’s something huge. The only thing any of those twerps have ever started is lifelong credit card debt. Keep on writing. I’ll be honoured to be your test audience if you let me.
Now—about Bethany—Roger, I’ll go insane mental bonkers nuts if I don’t vent about Little Miss Fresh Air and Exercise. What is wrong with her? She doesn’t eat except bits of raw fish she removes from the rice part of sushi. And grapefruit juice. She sleeps with her windows wide open, and her room is like a deep freeze. She gave away all of her Goth clothing. I went to the drop box after she dumped it and retrieved it all. She doesn’t know, but she’ll thank me for it one day— Goth may look grim, but the stuff is expensive, let me tell you.
The biggest and strangest thing is that she won’t argue with me any more. If I say something to provoke her, like “Use a coaster for your coffee cup,” she apologizes—I mean grovelling apologizing. She didn’t even mock the Christmas lights and call me middle class or a religious victim. She said they were pretty and hugged me. I feel like she’s been body-snatched, and I don’t have a clue who this new person is. The hardest thing was when I made popcorn for a late-night movie and I was wearing my aqua sweatpants and looked like a big fat Crisco-bitch. When I came into the TV area, I was hoping she’d make a wisecrack, but instead she said, “Mom, I think it’s great that you’re okay with the way you are.” God, young people can be patronizing, but I don’t think she meant it that way. I think maybe she is okay with the fact that I’m a disaster, which scares the shit out of me because I must be one, then. Cripes.
So I couldn’t eat the popcorn, and during commercials I went into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror, trying to pretend I was someone else, and I was horrified. Roger, tell me that I was once beautiful. I need that. I know I’m fishing here, big time, but there’s so little gas left in my tank. I’m running on fumes.
And what do I do with Sunshine Girl—any recommendations? Get her to a therapist? She reminds me of a girl in high school going through a nun phase. I ought to be happy that Bethany’s trying to slim down, but she’s doing it for reasons I don’t know, and a mother’s instinct tells me they’re the wrong reasons.
There.
I’ve gotten that out of my system.
Roger, if you could work some more on Glove Pond, it would really inspire and motivate Bethany. Is there any chance?
X
DD
Roger
DeeDee .