CHAPTER 34

THE NAME GAME

July 4, 1967

Mom and Rob returned from their honeymoon two days ago, and I moved to Westport today. I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to any of my friends, so I refused to do so.

I had almost nothing to take with me—just a handful of clothes and Adam’s piano, which filled the entire moving truck. I said a silent goodbye to Bridgeport, Success Park, and to everything and everyone I ever loved there, and I was proud of myself for not breaking down.

Until it came time to say goodbye to Mem—that’s when everything hit me. We fell into each other’s arms and sobbed, loud and heaving, our faces sopping wet from each other’s tears. Mom scolded Mem for riling me up. I wanted to scold her for scolding Mem, but I was hoping for a good moving-to-Westport day with Mom, so, as usual, I kept my thoughts to myself.

When Mom turned onto Brook Glen, the wooden sign read “Dead End.” I prayed this move wouldn’t be a dead end for me. A babbling brook ran alongside the road on both sides, like something out of a postcard. My nose was pressed against the car window, dumbstruck.

Rob’s house, set far back from the street, was even more beautiful than I had imagined, and there were only four houses on Brook Glen. The long driveway was covered in crushed stone that made a crunching sound as we pulled up to the house.

The first room we entered was Rib’s. Yes, Rib has his own room, the “prep kitchen,” and he settled in just fine. He dragged his doggie bed just outside the pantry door and set up camp. Can you imagine having two kitchens in one house?

Then Mom took me to my bedroom, the sight of which brought tears of both joy and sadness to my eyes. I was walking into my new room, my new life, while leaving my old life behind.

At first, I was upset with Mom because my closet was full of clothing she’d bought for me without my approval. But when I saw how excited she was to finally have the money to buy me so many beautiful, expensive things, I didn’t have the heart to be angry. Even though I hated the clothes she picked out, I know she tried her best.

As I organized my bedroom, I felt guilty for not feeling more grateful, as I took it all in. A plush lavender area rug, partially covering a beautiful oak floor, and a queen-size canopy bed covered in purple gingham.

There were windows on three sides of the room, filling it with bright sunlight. Looking out the windows, I saw shrubs, lawns, and trees instead of rundown buildings. My bedroom was so large that it had plenty of room for Adam’s piano.

As I folded and put away more ridiculously expensive clothes Mom left on the bed, the day’s news blared from the TV. Yes, I have a television in my room.

The Jews in Israel had just defeated the Arabs in a six-day war. I watched with mild interest—only because of Naomi. It reminded me of how much I missed her.

I miss all my Bridgeport friends, especially Chris. But Mom says it’s time for me to make new friends and start a new life. I might be starting a new life, but I will never forget where I come from. Bridgeport is who I am, whether Mom likes it or not.

I think it’s going to be hard to start a new life, and I’m afraid, but what choice do I have? Whatever I say will only upset Mom, so I’ll keep doing what I always do and say nothing.

The great news, though, is that Mem made a deal with Mom that she’ll drive to us from Bridgeport every Friday night after work and stay until Monday morning. Mem will cook, clean, and do everything she did for us in Bridgeport. Mom and Rob agreed to pay her a salary, allowing Mem to quit her weekend side jobs. The best part of the deal is that I’ll have Mem with me in Westport every weekend.

I thought moving day was going well until Mom came into my room tonight and said, “Rob and I need to talk to you.” I figured I was in hot water about something.

When I sat with them at the kitchen table, Rob had a pad of paper. He wrote my name—Tony Michaels—then said, “Tony. It’s a boy’s name.” He crossed out Tony and scribbled Tonya on the paper, saying, “Now, Tonya, that’s a beautiful girl’s name.”

“Tonya?” I asked Rob, confused. “Yes,” Mom answered. “I agree with Rob. It’s a beautiful, very classy name. You’ll get used to it.”

My brain felt like it was on fire from the crazy thoughts racing through it. Were they seriously suggesting I change my first name?

“And look how good it looks with my last name,” Rob continued, writing down Tonya Russo. I stared incredulously at the name.

Then I gave Mom the death stare. “It’s pretty, but Tonya Russo isn’t my name. I’m Tony Michaels, Mom. That’s my name, and I’m good with it.”

My heart was racing, and I kept repeating the Hail Mary, praying they wouldn’t dare change my name. Mom looked at me, annoyed. “It’s your name now. Rob is adopting you. Your father gave you up. He doesn’t want you using his last name anymore, so you’ve got no choice.” Even as I screamed and cried and carried on, Mom and Rob ignored my pain.

But the worst pain was Mom’s words about my father. Those stinging words killed something inside me. How could my father not want me to use his last name? He gave me up. Why didn’t he fight for me? Why did Mom have to be so cruel? What had I ever done to deserve such excruciating pain?

Then Mom made me feel even worse by saying, “Take a look at yourself. You need a new identity and a new look. You have to stop biting your nails, and we need to do something about that hair.”

Mom continued, despite my sobbing. “And we’ve also decided to send you to Charm School. It’s called Junior Years, and your interview is next week. We live in Westport now, not in the Bridgeport slums. Those days are over, thank God. It’s time for you to play your part. From now on, you go by Tonya. Tonya Russo.”

I ran to my room in despair. Mom was right about one thing. We were all playing a part. I’m just a poor kid from the other side of the tracks in Bridgeport—Mom’s awkward, ugly duckling of a daughter. I’m not the Westport Tonya they’re hoping for. I am and always will be Bridgeport Tony. “TONY MICHAELS,” I screamed at the top of my lungs in my matchy lavender room, with my pink princess telephone, baby grand piano, and fancy-shmancy new life.

I called Mem and told her what happened, but she said she couldn’t do anything for me, even though she wanted to. Mem warned me not to make waves. She told me to be strong and do whatever Mom and Rob asked of me to keep the peace. Mem’s biggest fear was that she wouldn’t be allowed to see me, so she made me promise not to rock the boat.

So, my new name is Tonya Russo, and according to Mom, I’ll get used to it.

But I’ll never get used to the pain of my father giving me up. Or the shame that I wasn’t good enough for him or his name. Never, never, never.

Stay tuned for Chapter 35: Ernie Barrett