Of Not Understanding The Signs
It was a month before Valentine's Day, and Phoebe anticipated the day with elation. After all, to her, it was not only Valentine's Day, it was the anniversary of the day Arnold and her had decided to 'go steady' as he liked to put it. They were high school sweethearts, getting together the summer before senior year, and now she was a young woman of twenty-three, and so was he.
She had just graduated, less than a year ago, and was now working as an environmental scientist. She had long been passionate about the environment, and being an environmental scientist for the state government. She was not the only one to go into research; almost all of her classmates from third grade (who were now her closest friends) were involved in scientific research or in an occupation that was science-related. Tim and Keesha were the only ones who didn't go into a scientific field, having went into architecture and psychology respectively. As for the others, Arnold was an anthropologist (having majored in geology), Carlos became a physics major and went into engineering (partly because he enjoyed making things that worked), Dorothy Ann went into medical research (she really enjoyed her work, as her love for research had only grown over the years), Ralphie went into sports science (he always was a sports nut), and Wanda – never having quenched her adventurous streak – decided to head into the only science that could possibly provide opportunities for adventure and the unknown: she became an archeologist, and styled herself as the real life Lara Croft/Indiana Jones. In this, she was greatly assisted by Arnold's great-aunt "Arizona" Joan.
Unfortunately for Arnold, he had chosen a field similar to Wanda's, and upon her request, wound up accompanying her to study rocks (which he loved) on crazy trips all over the world (which he didn't). He asked Phoebe whether she'd be uncomfortable with him spending so much time with Wanda (he'd practically be living with her, except in different tents, as they travelled to Egypt and Kazakhstan, and the rest of the world). Phoebe did not really want him to go too far away (she wasn't sure how they'd cope after Dorothy Ann and Keesha talked about statistics on how long long-distance relationships lasted – which, apparently, was not long), but then she saw how happy he was when he described all the amazing rocks he'd see (she caught the words igneous and sedimentary, but she didn't really understand much after that), and that would be worth going all over the world to places even to places where malaria was prevalent and there were various endemic diseases with Wanda. So she said yes, though she did not feel easy about the idea. Then again, Phoebe wasn't really one to worry, and she trusted Arnold (even if Wanda was a little too reckless for everyone – except perhaps Ms. Frizzle's, Carlos' and Keesha's – liking – though the latter was probably because she was used to Wanda and Ralphie's regular hijinks).
And she didn't even have to worry to begin with! It was almost one year since she, Arnold and Wanda had graduated from their respective universities in Boston, and Arnold and her were still going strong, even though he was half-way around the world with Wanda in Cairo. He would be returning to Walkerville in early February, and they'd celebrate Valentine's Day together, the most romantic day of the year –
A distinctive shade of scarlet passed over her cheeks while she daydreamed on in the January cold.
All of them – including Arnold's cousin Janet – were at the airport to welcome Arnold and Wanda back, along with the Perlstein and Li families. It was a ruckus when Arnold and Wanda were sighted. Arnold remained as pale as ever, whilst Wanda was slightly tanned, although she couldn't match Dorothy Ann, or even Phoebe, even as their skin were lightened due to little sun exposure during those winter months.
After being hugged by everyone, Arnold turned to Phoebe. They both stared at each other, before Carlos said, "They're going to kiss. I'll bet on it." And their hands met and they pulled each other into an embrace.
It was a nice, long embrace, and Phoebe felt perfectly content, until Ralphie shouted, "Oh, come on, kiss already!" And the two of them blushed like peonies, as the others laughed while Keesha berated Ralphie for spoiling the moment. They pulled away, and Phoebe looked at him.
Arnold was busy looking elsewhere, though. No one else noticed as they were laughing and abusing poor Ralphie, but Phoebe did. Confused, she looked at the direction Arnold was looking. Wanda was giving Arnold a saucy wink, and Arnold was grinning, as if giddy with excitement.
Phoebe wasn't one to distrust Arnold, nor was she the jealous type. Yet, she couldn't help but have a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach.
Phoebe was busy, but she tried to make time to hang out with Arnold alone, together, as they usually would when they had time. Yet, for some reason, Arnold was strangely elusive. He wasn't busy as much, and he seemed to be distracted, thinking of something else half the time he spoke to her on the phone. Phoebe supposed it was nothing; he was just busy cataloging his rock collection (which he had not seen for ages) or something. Arnold always did something for a reason. It was just his character, being cautious and risk-evaluating and all.
Janet, of course, was in the neighborhood often enough now, and couldn't help but explain things out to Phoebe: "He's with Wanda, didn't you know? They've been pretty much inseparable since they came back. I mean, just this afternoon I saw him at the coffee house with her, and they seemed to be pretty deep in discussion, didn't you know?"
Phoebe refused to heed Janet's words. She loved to think she knew everything, and even if it wasn't something Phoebe would have dreaded believing, she would refuse to give Janet the satisfaction of believing herself to be in the right.
But then, less than a week before Valentine's Day, their anniversary, Arnold called to cancel their date at the quaint Italian restaurant at the hotel downtown, where Tim's parents (chefs) worked.
"Why? Is something wrong?" Phoebe had asked, concerned.
"Ah, no," Arnold said. He seemed especially nervous to Phoebe. "It's just, something else has come up."
"Really? What is it?" Phoebe asked, ever more concerned.
Arnold cleared his throat (was he trying to make up an excuse?): "Well, it's nothing that should worry you. I just – I can't go for tonight. I'm sorry, Pheebs."
Phoebe tried not to sound too dejected (and she must have failed), as she said, "It's OK. No worries. You – you just tend to what you've got to do."
"I'll make it up to you, I promise," Arnold said, trying to reassure her. "I love you," he said, finally, before hanging up.
Phoebe was left strangely empty, and she called Keesha.
Of course, Keesha – being the good friend she was – brought in Dorothy Ann so that Phoebe could have a cheer-fest. Wanda would have come, she told Phoebe, except she already had plans.
"At any rate, you don't have to mope around the house. Why don't we have a girls' night out? Sans Wanda, of course. She doesn't count. I think she's more testosterone than estrogen, running around with guys like that," she shrugged.
"I don't know," Phoebe said, hesitantly. "Why don't we stay at home and watch TV or something?"
"According to my research –" DA began, but stopped when she saw the looks that Keesha gave her and Phoebe – unknowingly – gave as well. She cleared her throat and started again: "Well, studies have shown that the intensity of the unhappiness that people feel is related to the hours of TV watched."
"And that means –?" Keesha asked.
"That the more you watch TV, the unhappier you're likely to be."
"Oh," Phoebe said, and paused, before continuing with, "Well, then. I suppose we ought to go to the mall."
They had an early dinner, before they decided just to stroll along, just hanging out in the mall (and avoiding Borders, MPH or any such bookstore in the mall, so that Dorothy Ann would not go and spend hours there).
"Hey, remember the Fortune-teller?" Keesha pointed out to a small tent with a label outside the 'door' opposite the local jewelry shop, with beautiful diamond rings on show, proclaiming that it was the tent of a 'Madame Astraea: Psychic, Clairvoyant, and Fortune-teller'. Dorothy Ann giggled. Madame Astraea was considered a kook, and any mention of fortune-tellers had Dorothy Ann giving a long lecture of how it was scientifically unproven that there were actually such things as fortune-tellers and mediums, although she didn't seem to mind Madame Astraea.
"Why don't we get our fortunes told?" Keesha continued.
Phoebe looked to Dorothy Ann, who shrugged.
"One at a time, girls," Madame Astraea's voice trilled as the girls approached the tent door.
The girls looked at each other. "I'll go first," Keesha said.
After a few minutes, Keesha came out, looking especially pleased, but she wouldn't explain why, to Dorothy Ann's annoyance. With a huff, Dorothy Ann asked Phoebe whether she wanted to go first. Phoebe was always afraid when Dorothy Ann was in one of her moods. "You go first," she said. "I don't mind waiting."
Dorothy Ann shook her head when she came out. "Great success and I'll have a breakthrough in my research for human immunology, which I expected; but when I asked her when I'd get married, she said I'd already met my true love – and that I've known him for a long time! What I'm wondering is that if that were true, why aren't we together yet?" She sighed, clearly exasperated, and it was as if she'd forgotten that she didn't believe in fortune-tellers to begin with. "Why don't you go, Pheebs, and get this over with?"
Phoebe nodded, as she entered the tent, which was dark and dimly lit. In front of her, she saw a small table covered with a white tablecloth, over which a crystal ball was placed. It was so stereotypical, and it was just like before, when Phoebe had visited the Fortune-teller's tent right before junior high. Madame Astraea was seated at the table, wearing her usual gypsy dress with lots of sequins and beads, and equally intricately-woven veils were swathed around her petite figure. Her hair was now grey, but her eyes, strange black orbs lay fixated on Phoebe's tall, thin figure.
"Ah, you're here again with your friends? I might have guessed," Madame Astraea gave a strange smile – relative to other people, of course. Phoebe was used to such strange facial expressions from Madame Astraea, so it didn't unnerve her as much as it would others.
There was a pause. "Well, yeah," Phoebe said, just to say something.
"Indeed," Madame Astraea nodded. "Do you have a specific question for the future? Or will you be up for anything?"
"Er – I, I don't really have a question, you know. I guess anything goes," Phoebe replied.
"Sit down, then." Another strange smile graced Madame Astraea's features, and the dim lights of the tent began to flicker.
'Uh – OK," Phoebe said, sitting down on an empty stool. The crystal ball clouded up. A cold breeze blew through Phoebe's short cropped hair. She wondered how Madame Astraea was contriving all of this – she was a pretty good fortune-teller if all this was true (which it wasn't, Phoebe firmly reminded herself. She was just good at faking it).
"Your friends – you are close to them, are you not?"
Phoebe nodded, not sure how this was going to end.
"They only want your best interest, you know. They care for you deeply, more deeply than you ever realized."
Phoebe felt overwhelmed. More than she realized?
"A name comes to me now – a name of someone who cares about you a lot. Wendy – no. It's Wanda."
Wanda?
"Wanda Perlstein."
Phoebe's heart sank. It brought to mind all that Janet had said, about Wanda and Arnold spending a lot of time together – perhaps it ended in marriage? How could Wanda care so much about her and then steal Arnold off her back? She was confused and hurt. Tears were welling up in her eyes, but she kept them back. This was untrue. This was fake. She didn't believe in this. She was overreacting! She calmed herself down, taking deep breaths, hardly hearing what Madame Astraea was saying in her hollow, breathy voice, "– your daughter (looking up), she cares about you a lot."
"I don't have a daughter," Phoebe forced herself to say. Madame Astraea nodded.
"You will," Madame Astraea said firmly.
"Oh."
Madame Astraea looked sharply at her. "You mustn't jump into conclusions, you know. You will torture yourself, and you are the one who'll obscure the picture of the happy ending you deserve."
Phoebe simply nodded, as she put down five dollars for Madame Astraea and ran out. As she ran out, she caught sight of the local jewelry store, where she caught sight of a very familiar mop of orange-red hair. It was Arnold, and he was picking up a ring.
But he wasn't alone. She caught sight of black hair and a petite, jumpy figure. It was Wanda. He placed the ring onto Wanda's finger, and Wanda's face brightened up, as she nodded and mouthed 'yes'.
Phoebe couldn't utter a word for five full minutes, so Keesha and Dorothy Ann, who were looking at each other and busy in conversation, did not notice her until a long while after.
"Phoebe?" Keesha asked. Phoebe made no response. She was so struck by what she had seen, and the growing feeling of betrayal she felt at the pit of her stomach, that she briskly walked away.
"Phoebe!" Keesha cried. Phoebe heard her but did not turn around. She walked ever faster, wanting to be alone with her tumultuous thoughts, and was lost in the throng of people.
She would not see anyone. She did not call anyone. She did not dare talk to Arnold. A part of her believed that she was overreacting, but how could she be overreacting? Arnold gave Wanda a ring. Wanda said "Yes". And she was overreacting? It sounded pretty damn clear what had been going on –
What could she say to Arnold? If she were to meet him, she did not think she'd be able to control her emotions. Her emotions poured forth into paper. A letter. When she was done writing she saw how well it seemed to express her emotions. If only Arnold could read this and see how much he'd hurt her feelings. So much that she told him it was over in a single piece of paper. She ended it in a paper. Arnold deserved more than that, even if he did cheat on her.
She snuck out of the house and drove over in her rusty Ford over to his house, where she quietly knocked on the door. It was a beautiful day – they should have been having a picnic outside, if she hadn't become a recluse ever since the girls' night out.
"Phoebe, what a pleasant surprise!" Arnold's mother opened the door, smiling cheerily. Phoebe returned the smile with her own forced one. "Arnold isn't here at the moment, but –" she trailed off, before Phoebe interrupted her:
"No, it's fine, Mrs. Perlstein – I mean, Mardi (using Julia Martha Perlstein's pet name, as Martha had always insisted). I just needed to drop this off for Arnold (showing the letter in a crisp white envelope). Do you mind if I were to –?"
"Oh no, of course not," she said, as Phoebe entered.
"Thanks, I'll only be a minute." She ran up and entered the room.
She was unprepared for this. A rush came over her as she was surrounded by Arnold's things. There, on his top shelf were the rocks he loved so much, and prized ever since he was a little boy. His shirts were neatly hung in the walk-in cupboard in had. His table was tidy and everything about the room was clean and immaculately kept in tip-top condition. Who knew that a minute could nearly break her resolve? Yet she had to do this. She couldn't stand always being unsure, having doubts about her relationship. If she had doubts, why was she in a relationship?
The whole thing was pathetic, in her opinion.
She left the letter in plain sight where he was most likely to see it, and ran down, lost in her own thoughts, and slipped out of the house, unnoticed by the Perlsteins.
An hour later, he tried to call her. She didn't answer.
Two hours later, there were ten missed calls. By the end of the day, the number had risen to fifty.
Phoebe tried not to pay attention to the phone calls.
The next day, the house phone rang. Phoebe hurried to pick them out as her father was out and this could be an important phone call from one of his colleagues. But it wasn't. It was Arnold.
"Hello, Terese residence. Who is this?"
"Phoebe?"
Phoebe seemed to have lost her voice. She didn't say anything. She didn't hang up.
Ten minutes later, after a long period of silence, Arnold groaned and hung up. Not hearing any voices, he hung up. Phoebe obviously wasn't there, he thought.
But Phoebe remained at the phone for a good half hour, cradling the phone close to her head as she slid down and sat on the floor. Her father entered, and Phoebe jumped up.
"Any calls, Phoebe?"
"None, papa."
"Oh well." He shuffled, with some difficulty, up the stairs. At the top, he said:
"Phoebe, I may be blind, but I'm not deaf. You're unhappy."
"Yes papa," she said. "I suppose I am. But I have to be unhappy now so I can be happier later. That's life."
She hugged her father and went to her room. Behind her, her father simply shook his head, unsure of whether to be amused, saddened or exasperated. His daughter was too self-suffering for words.
Feeling stifled in Walkerville, and wanting a whole different perspective and a chance to find herself, Phoebe booked herself a three-day stay at the local health spa resort. She wanted to find herself and plan for her future – even if it was one without Arnold. Speaking of Arnold, Arnold didn't seem to stop calling, and if she didn't answer soon, he'd come barging into her house. Phoebe texted Arnold in her room, right before she left for the spa:
Arnold, don't try and call me. I know. I think it's better this way. If I saw you, I would not be able to walk away from you as even a friend. I hope you're happy with Wanda. I meant everything I said in the letter.
Three days later, Phoebe returned to Walkerville, glowing and feeling better. The pain was dulled after taking care of herself, and although she couldn't help thinking about Arnold every waking minute (and dreaming about him when she was asleep), at least it didn't hurt so much.
She knew that she'd never find a guy like Arnold. Perhaps she shouldn't have broken up with him –?
She shook her head. What was in the past was in the past and she could never go back. She could only look towards the future.
The future. Madame Astraea.
"You mustn't jump into conclusions, you know. You will torture yourself, and you are the one who'll obscure the picture of the happy ending you deserve."
Did she just ruin her happy ending?
It was Valentine's Day, she realized sadly. It would have been five years ago that she and Arnold got together. It was so hard to think that they would not be spending it together. Alone.
"I'm home!" She cried out as she entered the house, in a fake cheery voice so as to not worry her father.
"About time," she heard a female voice say. Wanda's voice. Phoebe spun around in shock.
"Wh –What are you doing here?" Phoebe asked.
"Your dad let me in. Said he had to go out of town for a while. Professors' conference or something. We've got to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you, Wanda," Phoebe said, quietly.
"Like hell you don't! Well, whether you like it or not, I have got plenty to say to you Phoebe Terese! And whether you like it or not, you're going to listen, or I'll make you listen."
It had always been amusing for Phoebe to wonder how such a petite 5'2 Wanda could scare the bejeebus out of her 5'9 tall (although somewhat gaunt) frame. Then again, Wanda scared Carlos and Ralphie out of their wits, and they were nearly a foot taller than her.
Phoebe sincerely wished she'd remembered her karate moves.
"What do you mean by dumping Arnold like that?"
Was that what Wanda wanted to talk about. The nerve of her!
"You really have some nerve, Wanda, talking to me about that. I know you two are together," she said, still as softly.
"What?" Wanda shouted. "Are you brain-dead, or are you stupid? Arnold loves you! How can you not see that?"
"Well," Phoebe began, feeling hesitant and foolish. "If he loves me so much, why does he cancel on me to go out with you?"
Wanda looked stunned.
"And then, Janet tells me that you guys have been getting cozy," Phoebe said, still in quiet and gentle tones, but with more emotion. "And then, I see him putting a ring on your finger, right after the fortune-teller tells me I will know a Wanda Perlstein."
Phoebe was shaking now. Wanda looked positively shocked now, her mouth opening and closing, like a fish out of water. It normally wouldn't be an attractive sight, but then again, boyish and adventurous Wanda had a knack for looking good doing unattractive things.
"You're kidding me. You believed Janet?"
"That still doesn't explain what you were doing with Arnold!" Phoebe said, defensively. "In a jewelry store, no less!"
"In case you haven't noticed, Phoebe, we are almost nothing alike. The only things that we have in common are our friends and Ms. Frizzle, school up to senior year and our hands."
"Our hands?" Phoebe frowned.
"Yes, Phoebe, our hands. The freaky thing about us is that our hands and fingers are the exact same size. Which means if someone got you a diamond ring that fit the ring finger of your right hand perfectly, it'd also fit me like a glove." Wanda didn't have to take that tone with her, as if she was stupid. But about the hand sizes –
That was true, Phoebe realized. Then her eyes widened as she fully understood the whole situation.
"You ruined your Valentine's day celebration for yourself, Phoebe. Way to go! Arnold wanted it to be perfect, and who else could help him other than his second-best friend who is a girl to make sure every detail was perfect? And then you break up with him, and God knows that ring I helped him choose for you – which was totally you and awesome, by the way, and which cost over a hundred thousand bucks, 20-carat diamond can't be returned –"
"He was going to propose?' Phoebe whispered.
"Hit the nail on the head, didn't you, Sherlock?" Wanda grinned. "Gods, you thought I was having an affair with Arnold?" Wanda began to laugh uncontrollably, and even Phoebe could now see the funny side of it, the corners of her lips forming a tiny smile. "You poor, suffering thing. Don't be a weasly wimp. Go and find your man. He's at home, moping about since he could reach you for the past few days."
"Thanks Wanda," Phoebe smiled. Everything was a huge misunderstanding. Phoebe could almost laugh at her stupidity and pathetic behavior. Not only had she made herself unhappy, she caused everyone to worry and hurt the man she loved deeply. She hoped he would forgive her. Still, it was partly his fault, for avoiding her like the plague –
"Arn just wanted things to be perfect," Wanda was saying, still in the midst of having an uncontrollable laughing fit. "And it would have been, if you hadn't gone all tragic heroine-y and made a beeline to – where did you go, anyway?"
"The health and spa resort out of town."
"Ah, the spa," Wanda nodded. "Next time, stay and listen to the explanations. Don't jump into conclusions."
Phoebe gave Wanda an impulsive hug. "I'm sorry Wanda."
Wanda's eyebrows were raised. "Gee, Terese – or should I say Terese-Perlstein, since you'll obviously take Arnold back? You sure are emotional now."
"I thought I'd lost everything – I mean, Arnold. Now I realize it was only my stupidity."
"Yeah, you got that right," Wanda burst into another fit of laughter. The whole thing was ludicrous to her, and Phoebe finally remembered why: freshman year. Arnold and Wanda. Chaos. Enough said.
"Well, I think –" Phoebe began, but Wanda cut her off.
"You got to run? Find lover boy? (Insert saucy wink) You go girl! I'll keep house for you!"
"And Wanda, I can't thank you enough," Phoebe smiled. "If there's anything I can do –"
"There is something, actually," Wanda said, her face suddenly becoming serious.
Phoebe listened intently.
"You could – name your first born daughter after me. Wanda Perlstein." Phoebe jolted at this.
"Your friends – you are close to them, are you not? They only want your best interest, you know. They care for you deeply, more deeply than you ever realized. A name comes to me now – a name of someone who cares about you a lot. Wendy – no. It's Wanda. Wanda Perlstein – your daughter, she cares about you a lot."
That must have been what Madame Astraea had meant. Your daughter, Wanda Perlstein. Her expression softened as she looked at Wanda, who did not seem to notice Phoebe's change in expression. Wanda was still taking about this yet-to-be born daughter. "Nice ring, huh? Better than Wanda Tenelli."
Wanda Tenelli? Wanda was with Ralphie?
"I won't even ask," Phoebe said.
"Good. It's none of your business," Wanda returned, glibly. "Now, shoo! You don't want to keep lover-boy waiting!"
"Right!" Phoebe nodded, as she ran out of the house.
"And I wasn't joking about your daughter!" Wanda called back after her. "Just call me Cupid," she said to herself, after Phoebe had long gone. "Mission accomplished."
It was the happiest Valentine's Day Phoebe Terese ever celebrated.
So far.
The next year, on the same day (Valentine's Day), Phoebe Perlstein went together with her husband, Arnold Perlstein, off on her honeymoon to the Caribbean.
It was a painful birth, but eventually, Wanda Elaine Perlstein was born, when the gang had reached their silver jubilees. Wanda insisted on being godmother.
Phoebe just let Wanda spoil little Wanda. After all, Wanda helped to reunite two lovers. Besides, Ralphie had pleaded for Wanda to take care of the newborn. It took some of the edge off him, since Wanda had been pestering to have a child.
It was a moment Phoebe would always remember, the little child born on Valentine's Day, a testament to their love and devotion, on their wedding anniversary and anniversary of their love.
Fin
Author's Note: Phew! This turned out much longer than expected. But I got this idea in my head and I'd thought it cute, what with Wanda playing matchmaker. I like Wanda, and I needed a good Wanda fic, but since it's Valentine's, I had to make it shippy. Enjoy!
P.S.: I didn't know how to end the story, so tell me how you liked the ending.