Dancing Hours (10 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Browning

BOOK: Dancing Hours
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“Uh huh
.

She said, loo
king like she didn’t believe me and then checking out David who was out of earshot. 

 

“Noah asked me to take David out today to goof off and take a break from being a single dad.”
I explained.

 

“A what?”
she nearly screamed.  I shushed her.

 

Kate
was out of the loop.  Clearly it had been ages since we talked.  I filled her in on what I knew of the brothers, Jessica and Mrs. Merchant.  We used the fast shorthand talk of longtime friends.  I felt so sad that I wouldn’t have her with me in Los Angeles.  It would be nearly impossible to function without her.

 

“Well that is definitely some family drama.”  She conceded quickly.  “Still,
he looks pretty good from behind
.” She looked admiringly again at David.

 

David had barely noticed my absence, it seemed.  He made fast friends
with some of the group and I noticed he’d caught at least one girl’s eye.  He had a lot in common with Noah, I suppose.

 

I felt awkward at lunch, torn between trying to make David feel like a part of the group and just enjoying myself.  I tried to do both. 
Kate
started buzzing on again about a going away party.  I always protested.  I was going across the country to college, not dying, but to her it was the same.  She imagined herself in college next year with many of the same kids she already knew, swimming in a pool that she’d peed in
long ago
.  She envied my
courage. 
A
part of me envied the predictability of her future.  Statistically speaking, she would meet her future husband in college, marry him a few years out and have kids and live within 15 square miles of home.  She could watch this place change and grow, grumble about the good old days while sipping tea on her porch.

 

My future had no guidebook, no map.  I could just as easily fail as succeed.
  I had picked anthropology as my major because I had to pick something and it allowed a lot of general education classes.  My new pool could just as easily contain flesh-eating bacteria.

 

So while the world of J
ohn
and Diana, who had been a couple since they could read and whose names were always said in a single breath, was virtually laid out before them – mine was a mystery.  I felt myself growing anxious and suddenly homesick. 
Maybe a little really sick too.

 

David interrupted my neurotic mental spiral.  “
You doing
okay?”

 

I snapped out of it and said that I was.

 

“It’s just that I’ve seen that look before.  Usually right before someone hurls.”
He had a hand on my back and I felt the back of my neck get hot. 
The food was not agreeing with me, but I protested anyway.

 

“No, I’m not going to hurl.”
I insisted. 

 

I was wrong.  Oh so very wrong.  The next couple of hours seemed to be nothing but hurling.  David took me home and
Kate
came too.  I hurled in the hall, in the Jeep, on the ground.  After I got home and while I was hurling, I thought of all the words and expression
s
there were for throwing up:  vomit, barf, gag, hurl,
hurk
yak, spew chunks, regurgitate… it was the only thing that managed to keep my mind off of the awfulness.

 

My parents were at work, so David and
Kate
took turns holding my hair, bringing me ice and crackers.  At one point David asked to borrow my phone and I handed him my cell.  He was gone for several min
u
tes while I contemplated the slow painful death that was taking me.  A shower seemed like a good idea suddenly and I turned on the water and climbed in fully clothed.  David returned.

 

“Uh, okay, that’s different.  Is that helping?”
He asked.

 

“Yeah” I croaked.

 

“Well, I have bad news.”
He said.

 

“What’s that?”
  I couldn’t imagine anything worse than this.

 

“My grandmother doesn’t have any magic remedies.”
He said.

 

I groaned, but he gave me an idea. 
“Call Nan.
  Maybe she knows some…” I didn’t finish.  I was sincerely dry heaving now. 

 

Kate helped him find the number and
Nan arrived shortly
.  She immediately
pulled David aside
and h
e left
the room
.  She spoke with
Kate
too, who also disappeared.  In the bathroom she looked a little to
o
frail as if worry were stealing her usual
vibrance
.
  She held a small half sphere tab out to me. 

 

“Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve.”
She instructed.

 

“What is it?” I sobbed.

 

“Doesn’t matter, it will help.”
She said soothingly.

 

I’m not going to call it a miracle pill, but it did help.  When
Kate
returned from the store with some club soda and I realized David was gone for the day, I stripped my clothes off and
laid
on the shower floor until my stomach was no longer trying to claw its way out of my body. 
Kate
spent the afternoon watching romantic comedies in my bed and occasionally checking up on me.  She got her mom’s permission to spend the night and her snoring and wild elbows were a comfort during my fitful sleep.  Sometime before dawn, I was finally out cold.  When I woke up,
my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.  My head was throbbing and I had a general unease in my stomach. 
I was ravenous, but
also afraid of what might happen if I ate
, so I stuck with crackers and club soda.

 

I took my snack to the backyard and sat in the tire swing that I had long ago grown too big for.  Every corner of my yard and my house held memories.  A cooling breeze blew gently and the sounds of my yard seemed muted in reverence to a young life that was over.  A new, adult life waited for me.

 

I could see the corner of my yard where my mother tried, and failed miserably, at growing a garden.  It was the same corner where I first met
Kate
, a scrawny girl with dirty knees and an unfortunate bob haircut.  I loved her instantly.  We climbed the fence in that corner and practically lived in each other’s homes, adopted sisters made out of only children.

 

Kate
showed me
the first tooth that she lost before she told her parents and we spent an entire afternoon gravely discussing the tooth fairy and how much
money
she might leave while sipping lemonade under the big tree.  She let me touch the gap where the tooth had been and explained how she wiggled and twisted it f
r
ee.

 

There
was
the spot exactly 50 7-year-old steps from that tree where we dug for buried treasure and then, finding none, tried to dig a hole to China.  We climbed trees, skinned our knees and speculated on the birds and the bees in this backyard.

 

Once I left for college, it would never be the same again.  My heart felt a little heavy and I tried to remember what it felt like to be 9 years old and think that boys were yucky and that I’d never grow up.  I was supposed to be happy to escape small town life, happy to move away and I was sure that I was.  It was all I ever wanted.  Still, I knew that my dad would cut down that tire swing later in the summer and a part of my childhood would be thrown in the trash.

 

Kate
found me in the back yard and put her arm around me.  “Feeling better?” she asked.  I moaned in response.  “At least I’m not throwing up anymore.”  I said.

 

“No kidding!” she exclaimed.  “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
She hugged me hard. I promised not to
and we sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.  Then
sh
e climbed the fence in the backyard to get home.  I hadn’t seen her do that in a long time and it made me a little sad again.

 

David returned my Jeep in the afternoon, dressed like he had just finished work at the mall.  The vomit had been cleaned up, but the smell lingered.  I thanked him and apologized for ruining his day off. 
I was more than a little embarrassed by my massive regurgitations the day before. 
He said he’d had a good time, met some cool people and not to worry about it. He was holding a teddy bear that I recognized as Jessica’s.  She asked him to bring it to me to help me feel better.  I asked him to thank her for me and he said that he would.  He also told me news that floored me – Noah was
gone
.  He was going back to California. 

 

“I’m sure he’d like to say goodbye if you want to call him.”
He offered.

 

“Sure” I said, but I didn’t call.  He was moving, he didn’t tell me.  Clearly I was imagining that he liked me.  I
did get a text later that night
.  It said
L8R trouble.  Maybe I’ll CU in CA.
It was better this way anyway.

 

 

 

9

 

As the long, hot July days wound to an end, I spent more time with David and Jessica. 
She became a member of my Tuesday ballet class and David spent the class time working out at the gym. 
Sometimes he told me what Noah was doing in L.A., but mostly we became good friends.  He told me what he could about Southern California, but
t
he valley
was different from Los Angeles.  He said it was the kind
of
city where nothing is as it seems, everything is larger than life and you could disappear without a trace.  The last part was supposed to sound dark and foreboding, but it sounded like heaven to me.  I crave
d the excitement, the anonymity. 

 

D
avid and I worked out a deal
after our failed day out
.  For every hour I spent babysitting Jessica, he would proofread one of my college papers.  I think I got the better end of the deal.  Jessica was fun to be around.  College papers were surely boring.

 

By the end of the summer I’d racked up 37 papers worth of proofreading.  It was the best summer I’d had in ten years.  We had swum in the creek, played at the park and done a lot of experimental cooking.  She even helped me shop for new school clothes.  Her tastes ran toward really girlie dresses, though, so we didn’t buy much. 

 

David used my babysitting time for job interviews sometimes or to get errands done that were easier without a little tagalong, but mostly he spent the time jogging or working out. 
He regarded staying in shape as a job just like working or taking care of Jessica and approached all of those things with the same dedication.  It was impressive.

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