the dance, due to the fact that not even one measly boy had asked her, things got tense.
After a gay chat of about half an hour, during which Nina managed to avoid telling Char that she had not been invited, Nina hung up. Then she started to brood.
I mean, Iâve seen her brood before, but this was something. Talk about air pollution.
âGawd,â she kept snarling out of the corner of her mouth, âwill you look at me!â She blamed everything on her nose. She looked in the mirror about a thousand times, first at the right profile, then at the left, then full face. She had heard that actors and actresses have a good side and a bad and they prefer to be photographed, naturally, from the good. Nina had decided that her right side was better. She has developed a sort of lopsided walk from always trying to remember to approach the mirror from her right side.
My mother said, âNina, would you please iron those few pillowcases and napkins I left in the basket?â
Nina put her hand to her head. âAfter I take a couple of aspirins,â she said.
âHave you a headache?â
I think of my mother as a fairly perceptive woman but sometimes she draws a blank. Evidently she didnât see the gray cloud forming around Ninaâs head.
âMaybe you havenât noticed, but my nose is peeling,â Nina said. âMaybe you donât know that my whole summer is ruined. I canât face my friends. I am a mess.â
John came in to get some old frankfurters for Count. We usually have a supply of kind of stiff franks that have been pushed to the back of the refrigerator by mistake. Sometimes I think that John pushes them there. Count doesnât seem to mind that they are past their prime.
âWhatâs the matter with your nose?â he asked Nina. That did it.
She went into a catatonic state. Keening like a banshee, if banshees keen, she raced out of the room.
âIâm not up to it today,â my mother said.
âItâs not only her nose, Mom,â I said. âItâs a dance at the canteen that Charlotte Forbes had two invitations to and Nina hasnât had one. Thatâs all.â
âThatâs enough.â There are times when my mother feels like giving up. She says âI give upâ quite frequently. I think this was one of the times.
âThings pile up at fifteen,â she said.
âMore than they do at fourteen?â I said. I hope not. They pile up plenty at my age. I donât think I can stand it if they keep on piling the older you get.
âWell, in a different way,â she said. âIt happens at all ages but somehow, at fifteen, youâre not quite grown up but youâre not a little girl any more, either. And you have moments of wanting to be both. Itâs a hard age.â
âI donât look forward to it,â I said. Which wasnât strictly true, only partly. Maybe things wouldnât pile up for me as much as they seemed to for Nina. We are not similar in personality, as I have mentioned.
Jen came to the back door. âWhereâs Nina?â she said. âI have something to discuss with her.â
âSheâs upstairs,â I said. âHer nose has started to peel and also she had a conversation with Charlotte Forbes.â
âOh,â said Jen. âWhat did Charlotte have on her mind?â
âOh, nothing was on her mind,â I said. âShe just couldnât decide whether to go to the canteen dance with Laurel or Hardy.â
âWhoâs Laurel and whoâs Hardy?â Jen asked. She is a little dense sometimes.
I explained about Charlotteâs two invitations against Ninaâs none, and about her peeling nose. Jen is fairly easygoing but even she got a little pale.
âOh, my Gawd,â she said.
Nina came into the kitchen. She had a big glob of some white stuff on her nose. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have said, âWho hit you