The Palmer Pool

20 | All Dressed Up

We awoke to the sounds of morning footsteps and opening and closing of cupboards, muffled conversation and radio programs. My head was wedged in the crook of Pete's arm and I hesitantly peered up at him from behind the sheet. He was looking at me thoughtfully and then smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes. I grinned and pulled the sheet over my face for a minute to regain my composure. Waking up next to him had me feeling practically giddy.  He threw his other arm around my waist and we stayed that way until it felt safe to move.

I got lost in the painting on the wall over us, wondering who painted it and why it was painted right on the wall. It bothered me that the artist couldn't take the painting with him or her and it could be painted over so easily. It seemed like such a waste, like really impressive sidewalk chalk art that would wash away with the next hard rain. I was sure it had been painted over by the time Sophie lived there.

"Was the painting there when you moved here?" I asked once the noises in the kitchen faded.

"No," he said simply.

"Who painted it?"

"I did."

"It's really good. I didn't know you were an artist."

He scoffed. "I'm no artist."

"This gorgeous work of art would suggest otherwise."

"I only did it because I was bored. The summer I was thirteen I was grounded for two weeks. I found some paint in the basement and copied this from a postcard."

"Why were you grounded?"

"For stealing Frank's cigarettes. That bastard wanted me grounded for a month. In the summer! My mom tried to get me one week and they settled on two. She didn't want me hanging around the house for that long."

Pete kissed me on the forehead and rolled out of bed. Once he confirmed that everyone had left the house for a while, we ate scrambled eggs and toast in the sunny breakfast nook. While he packed a picnic lunch I practiced moving the salt and pepper shakers around on the tabletop and turning the pages of a Good Housekeeping magazine. It was nothing major, but I was getting stronger.

Pete walked me to the pool where I changed into the mint green dress. We spent most of the day at the park downtown, which was something I would never normally do. It was hot and the park was full of people, lounging on chairs and blankets in the shade of the trees, hoping to catch a cool breeze from the river and jumping into the water from the boardwalk. After we had our lunch, some of the people I'd met the night before showed up to swim.

Pete caught me staring at Nick in his swimsuit. His right leg was withered and alarmingly thin, but I found it hard to look away.

"Polio," Pete said quietly. He watched my reaction and said, "You've never seen that before." It was a statement rather than a question.

"No."

"That's good." He studied my face expectantly like there was more he wanted to ask, but he kept his questions to himself.

Joan sat on the edge of the breakwall with a few other girls, dipping their toes in the water. They shrieked as Nick jumped in, clearly targeting them with his splash.

I lifted my hair up to allow some air to circulate around my sweaty scalp and neck.

"It is so hot."

"You could go swimming if you want," Pete suggested. He had on a button up shirt over an undershirt and long pants, but seemed barely bothered by the heat.

"No. I don't want to accidentally... leave again. I'll deal with it."

"Are summers cooler in the future?"