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Rite of Passage

By Cynthia M. Saracco

Eric knew something was wrong the minute he walked through the door. His wife, Lori, paced about the kitchen, pulling spices from the pantry and rifling through the cupboards. Bad news made her want to cook.

He braced himself, wondering when he might catch a break. With the third quarter closing at work, he’d already put in three 12-hour shifts and had at least two more to go. Now his wife was spinning in circles, ready for a crash landing.

Eric maneuvered around her, reached into the refrigerator, and grabbed a Heineken. “OK. Let’s hear it.”

Lori frowned. The deep creases around her mouth made her look much older than 38. “It’s Melissa.”

The words hit Eric like a punch in the gut. Melissa, their eldest, was the easy one. Even though she was nearly 13, Melissa hadn’t developed the obnoxious, rebellious attitude of other girls her age. She hadn’t tried to dye her hair purple or get her nose pierced or sneak out in the middle of the night to meet up with some horny, pimple-faced boy.

“What happened? She’s not on drugs, is she?

“Of course not,” Lori snapped. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with her?” Eric started to sweat.

“God, I knew you’d react like this.” Lori shook her head. “Look, it’s not that big of a deal. I mean – no, it is a big deal, but it’s perfectly normal, and you’re just going to have to deal with it. Don’t even think about doing anything that might embarrass her.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Lori’s nostrils flared. Before she could respond, Heather tromped into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because I heard Daddy yelling,” Heather said with the smugness of an 8-year old who’s too smart for her own good.

“We’re just talking,” Lori answered, her voice artificially sweet.

“About what?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Eric cut in.

“Mommmm!” Heather stomped her foot. “See what I mean? Daddy treats me like I’m some little kid, and I’m not.”

“Of course you’re not.” Lori shot Eric a dirty look. “Daddy’s just had a long day, and now he’s blowing off a little steam. You go watch your TV show.”

As soon as Heather was out of earshot, Eric leaned towards Lori. “What the hell’s going on?”

Lori pursed her lips. “Melissa got her first period today.”

“Oh.”

“She’s got bad cramps and I had to run to the store to pick up sanitary napkins because she’s afraid to use tampons.”

Eric nodded, not sure what to say. He wanted to change the subject, to tell Lori he didn’t need to know anything more about this. But he didn’t want to listen to Lori complain that he wasn’t interested, either, even though he wasn’t.

“There’s something else.” Lori’s forehead twisted into a knot. Eric listened to her words with dread. “This is a big moment in her life. A real turning point. I want to do something special for her to mark the event.”

Eric stared at his wife, wondering if she planned to throw some sort of bizarre menstrual party where they’d all take turns swatting a blood-red piñata filled with Midol.

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand. It’s just – you have no idea what it’s like to grow up female. Everything in our society is geared towards men – sports, money, business, you name it. They’re all about dominating and competing . . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Just once, I wish you could see things from a female point of view.”

Eric bit his tongue. He wanted to point out that he grew up with three older sisters and an outspoken mother. That he lived with two daughters and a wife. That even the family cat was female. But he’d spent enough time around women to know when he should just keep his mouth shut.

Lori folded her arms across her chest. “I want to take Melissa to San Francisco this weekend – just her and me. We’ll stay overnight, get our nails done, go shopping, and maybe see a movie. It’ll be like a rite of passage, something to show her that she’s starting a new stage in her life.”

“Sounds fine,” Eric managed to say.

“Really? You’re OK with it?”

“Sure.”

“You’ll be on your own with Heather, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll have to cook for her Saturday and take her to soccer practice on Sunday.”

“I’ll manage.”

Eric was a little surprised when Lori gave him a big hug.

Thursday and Friday brought two long, grueling days at work, but Eric didn’t mind. At least he didn’t have to face Melissa at the dinner table or watch his wife dither about the logistics of their coming-of-age weekend while trying to find some way to pacify Heather. But Saturday morning, just after he got out of the shower, Lori sat perched on the edge of their bed with a funny look on her face.

“I thought you wanted to get an early start,” Eric ventured, trying to comb his thinning black hair so the bald spot in the back wouldn’t show.

“I did. But you don’t know what just happened.”

“Melissa’s not hemorrhaging, is she?”

“Don’t be an idiot. Just because she’s on her period doesn’t mean she’s going to bleed to death.”

Eric resisted the urge to snipe back. “Well, what is it?”

“Amy called Heather and said her mom wants to take them both to Marine World today and then have Heather spend the night.”

Eric threw a towel over his face, pretending to wipe it dry. He hoped the cloth would muffle the glee in his voice. “So what does Amy want to do?”

“She wants to go, of course. She’s all excited. And that’s just it.”

“What’s just it?”

“We’ll all be gone. I don’t feel right leaving you by yourself.”

Eric walked back into the bathroom and shut the door. He didn’t want Lori to see the gleam in his eyes. He let the faucet run and then flushed the toilet for good measure.

“I don’t want to spoil your fun,” he called out. He heard Lori walk to the other side of the door and grab the handle. Desperate, he sprayed a strong shot of air freshener in her direction. “Don’t come in. I’ll be out in a minute.”

He gazed at himself in the mirror, trying to contort his face into a picture of disappointment. Instead, he just looked ridiculous. He heard Lori pacing a few feet away. Finally, he dabbed a bit of soap in his eyes, placed a hand over his mouth to hide his smile, and opened the door.

Lori’s jaw dropped. “Have you been crying?”

Eric didn’t respond.

“That’s it. I’m going to tell Melissa we’ll do it another time.”

Eric shook his head. “I just got a little soap in my eyes.”

Lori looked like she didn’t believe him.

“Really, I’m fine. You made plans with Melissa, so you should go. And if Heather’s got a chance to spend the weekend with her best friend, why not? I’ll be OK.”

Lori didn’t budge. Eric tried a different approach. “Look, parenting is about making sacrifices, right? I don’t want my girls to miss out on things just because I might get lonely. That’d be selfish.”

He watched Lori’s face soften, but still she didn’t move. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime event for Melissa. If you’re going to do something about it, you’ve got to do it now – not next week or next month.”

Lori bit her lip. Eric waited, wondering if he should say something more. Then he saw Lori nod her head slightly.

“I think so, too,” she said, glancing at her overnight bag. “I guess I’ll go tell the girls to put their things in the car.”

“You don’t want me to take Heather over to Amy’s?”

“No. I’ll be passing right by there.” Lori slung the bag over her shoulder. “Oh, and you don’t need to worry about soccer practice tomorrow, either. Since Amy’s on the same team, her mom’s going to take both girls over to the school by 11.”

Eric stuck his head in the closet, pretending to search for a shirt. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Within a few minutes, the house was his. He tossed his razor into the bathroom cabinet and decided to enjoy the stubble on his chin for the next 24 hours. By early afternoon, he was holed up in the garage with the remnants of a Ragin’ Cajun pizza on one side of his workbench and a greasy lawnmower engine on the other. The radio blasted the latest news in sports.

Dinner found him in front of the TV in his boxers with two beef super burritos, a bag of tortilla chips, a can of bean dip, and a cold bottle of Heineken. James Bond was racing down a crowded street, narrowly avoiding capture, when Eric’s cell phone rang. Reluctantly, he hit the mute button on the TV remote and answered.

“Hi,” Lori said. “I just called to make sure you’re OK.”

“I’m fine. I thought you were going out on the town.”

“We are. We’re going to see that new movie, ‘Flowers in the Mist’. I, uh, just thought I’d call to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, what did you do all day?”

“Oh, just a few chores.”

Lori was silent for a moment. “God, I feel guilty.”

“Why?”

“We’re having a great time, and there you are stuck at home working all by yourself.”

“Forget about it.”

“You should see what we did today. It was awesome.”

Eric grimaced, knowing that Lori would want to go over all the little details. He paused the DVD just as some gorgeous brunette in a slinky outfit was sidling up to Bond.

“First, I took Melissa to this chic little restaurant that serves these great vegetarian crepes. Then we went down to Union Square and spent three whole hours looking for just the right pair of earrings for Melissa to get as a keepsake. I mean, we went in Macy’s, Nordstrom, Gold Palace – you name it. We finally got this really good deal on a pair of silver hoops with little garnet baguettes . . . .”

Eric set the phone on the armrest of his recliner and brushed the crumbs from his chest onto the rug. A bit of bean dip went along with them.

“ . . . she got a free makeover at the L’Oreal counter. You should see her – she looks so grown up . . . .”

Just as he stuffed a burrito in his mouth, he heard Lori ask a question. A hunk of meat lodged in his throat.

“Eric? Are you there?”

“Yeah,” he managed to mumble.

“What happened?”

“Uh, I put the phone down for a minute because I thought I heard the cat throwing up,” he lied.

“Cleo’s not sick is she? Because if she’s throwing up, you’re going to have to --”

“She’s fine. It was false alarm.”

“Oh.” Lori sounded relieved. “Well, I’d better get going. Our movie’s starting soon.”

“Fine.” Eric reached for the remote, ready to restart his film.

“Eric?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I wish you could be here right now, don’t you? I mean, this really isn’t fair to you.”

“Don’t worry. Like you said, men get enough special treatment. You just enjoy yourself.” He took a deep swig of beer and squelched a burp.

“We’ll do something together as a family soon,” Lori insisted. “Maybe go fishing, like you always wanted.”

Eric smiled. “Sounds great.”

“I miss you,” Lori said.

“I miss you, too.” Eric kicked the footrest up another notch. “But I don’t want you to hurry home tomorrow on my account. Take all the time you need with Melissa to make her feel special.”

“You’re such a sweetheart.”

As James Bond roared to life on the screen, Eric couldn’t stop smiling: there were things about women that he’d just never understand.