swims.
Outside, half-naked girls climb out of the pool, grabbing
brightly colored cotton towels and laughing.
Inside, my father continues his diatribe. His words swirl around
my head and push into my eardrums like cold small knives.
“You’re just like your mother!”
I can hear what he’s saying to me. His words are clear and un-
compromising. By betraying him I am relegated to the lowest
rank. I am my mother, a whining girlfriend, a useless whore, and
as replaceable as the girls by the pool.
57
J E N N I F E R S A G I N O R
He grabs a book off the shelf and hands it to me.
“I want you to stay in this room and memorize the definition
of loyalty and under no circumstances will you come out until
you can recite exactly what loyalty means! Do I make myself
clear? Loyalty!” Dad yells into my ears and then storms out.
Hands shaking, I look up the meaning of loyalty in Webster’s
dictionary: the quality or state or an instance of being loyal; faith-
fulness or faithful adherence to a person, government, cause, or
duty. The lesson had been delivered. A lesson reinforced often dur-
ing my childhood: faithful adherence to a person, my father, no
matter what.
As a child it never occurs to me that he might be disloyal.
I collapse onto the bed and sob because I thought Pamela
loved me, but she betrayed me. She was not loyal.
I wake up unsure of where I am. I look over and see the alarm
clock and wooden box of cigarettes on the dresser. I’m still in room
six at the Mansion.
There’s a knock on the door, so I hide underneath the sheets,
not wanting to wake up. The knocking continues. I throw the
sheets back, get out of bed, and open the door. My father is there
holding two tennis rackets, a smile splitting his face.
“I thought we could play some tennis,” he says.
“I’m not up yet,” I answer, still groggy.
“Well, get those lazy buns up. It’s gorgeous out,” he says ener-
getically. “I’ll even give you a couple games to start.”
“I don’t need a couple games to beat you,” I say, still mad at
him for last night and unsure of what to expect.
“You’re right. Just do me a favor and don’t embarrass me too
much,” he giggles.
I start to give in, my face hinting at a smile.
“I’ll meet you out there in five but you better hurry before I get
too warmed up,” he chuckles.
I close the door and throw on a plaid tennis skirt, a white Polo
58
Playground
collared shirt, and red visor, knowing this outfit will definitely gain
Dad’s approval.
I jet down the pathway to the tennis courts, where we rally
back and forth.
“Listen, about Pamela, the truth is I’m actually relieved. I’ve
been trying to get rid of that cunt and she never took a hint. Some-
times there are women who are such a pain in the ass you can’t get
rid of them; no matter how hard you try, they just won’t leave. You
have to understand one thing: I date a lot of women and some of
them may send you messages just so they can get to me. Pamela
has major problems, so please just do me a favor and let me han-
dle my own personal business.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“We have to stick together,” he emphasizes.
I slam a straight shot down the line, leaving him in the dust.
Summer is over and my sister retreats into my mother’s arms.
Savannah is terrified by my father’s temper and finds safety by
Mom’s side. My father views her fear as an act of disloyalty and
continues to abrade her whenever given the opportunity. Mean-
while, he spoils me, making me feel special and important, like one
of the guys.
The relationship between Mom and me becomes more antago-
nistic. She overhears from some of the parents around Beverly
Hills that Savannah and I have been living at the Mansion. When
we deny it, Mom doesn’t believe us.
We’re in the kitchen as Mom paces back and forth. She’s furious.
“Why do you kids lie to me?” she asks. “Is this where you’ve
been all summer?