Authors: Renee Lewin
So many people talked to me. It was like I was meeting all the kids from the neighborhood for the first time. I had wiped their slates clean of the past and I judged their characters by how they treated me that night. They did the same for me. They joked with me and showed me new dance moves I hadn’t learned. They asked concerned questions about my father and Manny and were interested in what I’d been up to the past couple of years. I got caught up on gossip as I traveled amongst cliques and crews.
Joey was never far off. We were occasionally separated as we started up conversations with others or danced with different people. Each time that I wondered where Joey had drifted off to, I would look up and meet his eyes across the room. It was like he and I were attached by an invisible thread. All it took were my thoughts to tug on the string and I had his attention instantly.
I kept myself open and accepting. When I was offered a beer, I took it. When
Niko
asked me to dance with him, I gave him my hand. I practiced my new dance moves with
Niko
who passed me over to Claude. He and I got lost in the rhythm of the music until the song changed and Joey asked Claude to cut in. I didn’t hesitate to be Joey’s dance partner. My body tingled at the chance to do so.
I discovered that Joey is a great dancer. Maybe the footwork he practices for soccer made him a master on the dance floor. I wasn’t surprised by his skill. I keep learning more and more great things about him that I was too stupid to see a month ago. Spanish dance is very fun but also sensual. I tried to keep the movement and distance of our bodies at a PG rating, but little by little Joey pulled me closer to him with his strong arms and his magnetic blue eyes. He spun me around and, realizing my backside would be pressed against him, I turned full circle to face him again. His searing hands would find my hips and I would tactfully shimmy away. He was fire and I was ebony kindling trying earnestly to avoid being consumed as I danced near him. Secretly, I wanted to be consumed.
I truly wanted to let my body do what the music was calling it to do, but I wanted to preserve our friendship even more. I didn’t want to be a tease. I didn’t want Joey to think less of me afterwards, so I restrained my urge to discover what his body would feel like against mine and what his lips would feel like against mine. The power of the music twisted my admiration of him into something deeper than it was, more passionate than need be.
Afterwards, we spent the entire weekend together. Saturday morning, Joey cooked a big breakfast for his mother and me. After Miss Amelia left for work, we stayed at his house the rest of the afternoon and entertained ourselves with embarrassing childhood stories, watching funny videos on the Internet and listening to each other’s favorite songs. He introduced me to artists fresh on the scene and I helped him appreciate the oldies. Marisol called me and insisted he and I come over and chill at her house. The three of us joked around and by the end of the night eight more friends, 11 people in total, were in her living room.
At one point, the girls and I started reminiscing about the boy band we were all in love with when we were in middle school. Denise started singing one of their songs and all the girls joined in, laughing and snapping. Joey, Claude, Cesar and a guy named Jason started pop-locking to the music and trying to serenade us while singing off key. Of course Joey made it a point to send massive amounts of winks and air kisses to all the girls, most of which landed in my direction.
Early Sunday morning, some of the soccer players were out on the field practicing for games that might not happen for months. All matches have been indefinitely postponed since the day Joey was admitted to the hospital. Still used to his old routine, Joey rose early to head to the field. He stopped by my house and asked me to come along. At the field, I sat down in the damp grass beside him and watched the soccer guys stretch and go through their drills. Joey encouraged his teammates and thanked rival team members for being patient with him.
I gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. He acknowledged it by tilting his head to press his cheek to my hand and then turning his attention back to the activity on the field. I know he’s felt guilty about holding everyone up and there’s nothing he can do about it; the Bosses are adamant that they’ll wait for their favorite player to make a comeback. The biggest crowds always turned out when Joey was playing. He was the most entertaining player, both because of his talent and because of his explosive personality. I could tell Joey was miserable by the wayside of the action, but he’d be ready to play any day now. He really pushes himself during therapy and he’s not lazy when he gets home. He keeps himself moving whenever possible, even when it hurts.
“Alvarez!” Joey suddenly shouted. “What are you doing?” he said angrily. Joey began to fiercely lecture one of his team members. I guess his mind went into team captain mode and he began to yell and cuss about the injuries that could have occurred as a result of Alvarez’s decision to show off during practice. As Joey got lost in his little rant, I realized I’d forgotten my hand on his shoulder so I gently removed it. I didn’t expect Joey would notice, but he stopped in the middle of his sentence to look at me the moment I did that.
“What?” I asked quietly. I felt self-conscious as his bright blue eyes searched mine.
He shook his head as if to say “Nothing” and turned his gaze back onto the player. “Just be careful next time, alright?” he said much more calmly. I guess I accidently snagged his attention and caused him to rethink his words.
“Yes, captain.” Alvarez smirked and then saluted Joey like a soldier before going back to his dribbling.
I laughed and Joey rolled his eyes and allowed himself to smile at the situation. I watched him smile and felt so much hope, love and pride for him. I love him. I love Joey for the caring, giving, funny person that he is. I can hardly compare our friendship with the one I had with Raul. With Joey I’ve experienced the strongest connection to someone that I’ve ever felt. He’s the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person on my mind when I fall asleep. But that’s because we spend so much time together. I hope I’m not giving Joey mixed messages. I’m not trying to lead him on.
It’s natural for the two of us, being of the opposite sex, to flirt once in a while. Sometimes I even have a physical reaction to him hugging me or touching me or his eyes searching my eyes so openly. My stomach does a flip or my heart skips a beat. My skin tingles and surprises me. I’m restless when he’s not around. I guess I’m just really excited because I haven’t had a best friend in so long.
I dismiss any bad thoughts immediately, of course. The thoughts about whether we can be more than friends. We get along so well, and he’s an attractive guy, so my mind often wanders. I know that we were meant to be just friends. If we were right for each other in that way, then I wouldn’t almost have a panic attack every time I think about it going further. I’m not ready to start a serious relationship with anyone right now. When the thought of being Joey’s girlfriend feels just as comfortable as the thought of being his friend, then I’ll know I’m ready. Until then, I’d rather not screw up what we have.
Today marks the nineteenth day that has passed without me seeing my father. It’s May 21
st
, a Monday, a therapy day. I sit in Mr. Gerard’s room with my chin in my hand. I’m watching Joey keep a blank facial expression as Mr. Gerard bends, rotates and pulls on his legs to loosen the muscles that are painfully taut from spasms. It has been almost three weeks since I’ve seen my father and in each of those days there were moments of loss. Though I’ve been enjoying myself, I’m aware of my world being incomplete. As I become closer to Joey emotionally, I feel myself pulling farther away from my father. Maybe it’s the right thing to do, since Dad can’t be there for me right now.
Uncle Frank visited Dad Saturday morning and he told me that he was doing well. I met Uncle Frank at the front door hoping Dad had given him a message for me. There was none. Manny has been calling again and he wants me to visit Dad; if not for myself, for him. I have mixed feelings about returning to Palo Verde, but now
is
as good a time as any. Being open to possibilities has worked in my favor so far. I inform Joey that I won’t be able to hang out with him after therapy because I’m going to visit Daddy. I’m stunned when he gazes at me across the therapy room and says, “I’ll go with you.”
I can tell Joey is trying to keep my spirits up. He was extra silly during the drive to the mental hospital. As we walk through the revolving doors of the hospital, Joey is in the middle of an impression of Mr. Jeremy, the owner of the neighborhood convenience store. Joey imitates the drawl and the way he always pulls up on his belt loops.
“Joey! My boy!
El Fuego
! You’re friends with Manny, right? Oh, it’s a shame what happened. That judge should be
hawg
-tied. Here, have ten of these packs of
chewin
’ gum. No charge. I see you’re here with Miss Elaine. Hello, Angel. God bless your father and your brother and I remember your beautiful mother. She kept that park spic and span when your Daddy was running it. He still has ownership,
don’t
he? Here, take my cash register. It’s an honor. Joey, is it true your momma’s dating Frank
Merjoy
? So, you’re practically
Merjoy’s
son now, eh? Here
ya
go.
The keys to my Dodge.
Enjoy yourself.”
My abdominal muscles hurt from laughing so hard. Mr. Jeremy has been trying for years to bribe his way into being the owner of the Park.
Joey’s energy level doesn’t change when we enter the building. Even when we go through security and when we walk past the windows in the hallway where you can see patients in various states of mental capacity. He doesn’t look uncomfortable or worried, so I don’t feel ashamed. As we walk down the hall, someone rounds the corner up a head, coming towards us.
I nudge Joey with my elbow. “That’s him. He’s the doctor I was telling you about on the way here.”
“That’s Dr.
Agneau
?” Joey says, disgusted. “What is he? Forty years old?” he laughs.
“He’s only 27, now hush. Here he comes.”
As Dr.
Agneau
walks briskly towards us with his perfect smile and light hazel eyes against a dark complexion, Joey takes my hand in his.
I smile. “What are you…?” I begin to whisper, but Joey quiets me with a wink of his eye. When I look back at Dr.
Agneau
the smile has dripped off of his face.
“Hello, Doctor,” I greet him.
“Miss Roberts,” he nods. Then his hazel eyes bounce over to Joey. After scrutinizing Joey from head to toe, he says, “And you are?”
Joey sticks his hand out and the doctor shakes it firmly up and down. “I’m her fiancé,” Joey says and he continues grinning though the doctor’s handshake comes to a sudden stop.
“Visiting is only for immediate family members of our patients,” Dr.
Agneau
says and then drops Joey’s hand.
“I’m just here for moral support, Doc.” Then Joey pinches my cheek. “I wouldn’t want my
snugglebunny
to come up here by
herself
.” I almost ruin the scene when Joey cups my face in his hands. “I’m gonna make an honest woman out of you, ain’t I?” I don’t answer because if I open my mouth I’ll laugh like a fool. Joey responds by squeezing my cheeks until my lips pucker out like a goldfish’s. “Ain’t I,
sugarbutt
?” I nod and Joey lets go of my face to hug me to him, proudly.
The doctor’s top lip curls and then he rolls his eyes in my direction. “Your Dad will be very happy to see you. He’s been asking for you all day,” he says with a sour smile. He quickly continues walking past us and down the hall. I can’t hold it in any longer, but Dr.
Agneau
is still within earshot so I bury my face into Joey’s chest to muffle my laughter. His body is pulsing with laughter as well. Eventually I come up for air.
“Why did you do that to him?” I smile up at Joey. We’re standing very close to each other and his hand is still at my lower back. The warmth of his hand radiates through my entire body.
“It’s not my fault he’s too dumb to realize there’s no ring on your finger.”