Love and Other Four-Letter Words (18 page)

“What's that?” Max asked.

“Do you know ‘Brown-Eyed Girl'?” Eli asked.

My stomach did a somersault.

“Sure,” Max said, launching into an off-key rendition of Van Morrison's classic.

We fudged our way through the beginning verses, until we reached the
sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-ti-da
part. That's when I noticed Eli was looking my way.

Goose bumps popped up on my arms and legs.

“You, myyyyyyyy brown-eyed girl,” Max howled.

You, my brown-eyed girl,
Eli mouthed to me.

I stretched my legs closer to the flames.

And that's when I caught Ellen watching us, raising her right eyebrow in an expression of keen curiosity.

Just after Ellen tossed the last stick on the fire, Max yawned and declared he was hitting the sack.

“For once you can say it and mean it.” Ellen laughed as she pulled the rubber band out of her bun, running her fingers through her long hair. “Get it? We really are sleeping in sacks tonight.”

As I lay in my sleeping bag, breathing in the musty
scent of the tent, I felt wide awake. Maybe it was the tree root pressing into my back. I flipped over. Maybe it was being so close to Eli, feeling like he could hear my heart beating. I'd gotten a tingly feeling between my legs as Max and Ellen crawled into their tent.
I wonder if they're having sex
. When Ellen and I were unloading the minivan, I'd noticed her unzipping their sleeping bags so they could lie together. And at first I'd heard them laughing softly, but now it was quiet. I flipped over again.

“Sammie?” Eli whispered. “Are you still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“I can't fall asleep. …”

“Neither can I.”

He was quiet for a second. “Do you want to walk over to the lake? The moon looks really bright tonight.”

“Okay.”

We slid out of our sleeping bags. As Eli unzipped the tent, I slipped my Birkenstocks on over my wool socks and grabbed my sweatshirt. Eli was right about the moon. It was nearly full and lit up the path that led through the campground.

“It's beautiful out here,” I said as we climbed up onto a tall rock overlooking the lake. The moon was casting silver reflections across the water.

“I know.”

We sat up there for a long time, tossing stones into the lake, chatting about everything from music to school to life in general. At one point, we were talking about how I'd just moved to the city when Eli asked me if it has been a tough summer.

“How did you guess?”

“I know it's very different,” Eli said, “but supposedly after my father died, I was a wreck, full of anger … even until a few years ago. …”

I tossed a stone into the water, remembering that time our families shared a cabin in the Adirondacks.

“My mom is a great person to talk to about things,” Eli added, “really strong.”

I nodded as I rubbed my hands across my legs. “Are you cold?” Eli asked. “A little …”

Eli reached over and took my hand, holding it between his to warm it up. We sat like that for a long time, not saying anything, just looking out at the moon, the sky, the ripples in the water.

“Can I tell you something?” Eli asked after a while.

“Sure…”

“I've wanted to do this since that time you and your mom came over to dinner. I didn't think you'd ever notice … or I'd ever stop being so nervous around you.”

Around me? Someone was nervous around
me?

“I thought maybe you were with Jenna.”

Eli paused for a minute. “We actually did go out for a few weeks last fall, before I realized that she wasn't at all my type. When I broke up with her I promised I'd always be her friend.” Eli paused again. “I know Jenna comes on strong, but she's pretty insecure deep down.”

“I got the feeling that she hated me.” “No”—Eli squeezed my hand—“it's more that she was threatened by you … but that's still no excuse … I told her so after you left.”

“You did?”

Eli nodded. “Speaking of that, remember what you said that day … about being average?”

I groaned. I don't need to be reminded of that. I remember it quite well myself, every time I look in the mirror.

“I don't think you're average at all …I think you're beautiful.”

We were quiet for a long time, interweaving our fingers, stroking all over each other's hands.

“Can I tell
you
something?” I asked as Eli traced the calluses on the tips of my fingers.

“Sure.”

“I'm glad you asked me to come.”

“Can I tell
you
something?”

“Sure.” I glanced over at Eli.

“So am I.”

I began to tremble.

“Your teeth are chattering,” Eli said, touching his fingers to my lips.

The next thing I knew, we were pressing our mouths together. Feeling his lips against mine, tender and moist, sent a current through my shoulder blades and down my back. We wrapped our arms around each other and I rested my head on his shoulder. I liked the way he smelled, smoky from the campfire, but clean, like shampoo. When we kissed again, we used our tongues, exploring the insides of each other's mouths. It was wet, but not drippy, nothing like the Big Slobbery Makeout.

I don't know how much time passed, but before I knew it, the moon was gone and the sky was fading to a pale gray. Eli and I held hands as we crept back through the woods and crawled into our tent. As I slid into my sleeping bag, I could still feel Eli's lips on my face and neck. I ran my hands along my breasts, my stomach, pausing between my legs.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, the sun was flooding into the tent and Max was singing, “Up and at 'em, kiddies, up and at 'em.”

I got a panicky feeling inside, wondering if Eli would regret last night, if he'd pull me aside and tell me it was a huge mistake. Or worse, not say anything at all, just pretend it had never happened.

But before I could get too mired in fear, Eli propped his elbows on the ground and looked down at me. His hair was rumpled and there was a crease running along the side of his face. “Until a few years ago, I always thought people were saying up and
Adam
.”

And I knew it was going to be all right.

I
thought I'd be wiped out from staying up most of the night, but after plunging my head into the chilly lake and gobbling one of the glazed doughnuts that Max produced from the minivan, I actually felt good. I have to admit, it was strange to sit next to Eli at the picnic table while Max and Ellen studied the trail map. As I toweled my hair, I wondered if they could guess that something had happened between us last night.

Not that there was anything wrong with them knowing. Eli didn't seem to mind, at least. Several times during the hike, when Max and Ellen were only a few strides ahead, he reached over and grabbed my hand. I think Ellen picked up on it because when we broke for
lunch, as Max and Eli disappeared behind some trees, she flashed me a private, big-sisterly sort of smile.

Around three, we all piled into the minivan and Ellen turned onto the Palisades, this time heading south. My calves were sore and I had at least five mosquito bites on each leg. I rested my head against the window. Maybe I'd close my eyes, just for a second. …

“Sammie?” Eli gently tapped my arm. “Sammie?”

I sat up quickly, looking around.

“We're on the West Side Highway. Do you want us to drop you off at your place?”

“Yeah … that'd be great.”

Ellen double-parked in front of my building so I could grab my stuff from the back. I thanked Max and Ellen and gave them both hugs goodbye. When Eli and I hugged, he let his hand linger on my back as he whispered that he'd call me soon.

The super was standing on the sidewalk, watering the marigolds.

“Hola,”
he said, waving.

“Hola,”
I said.

As I skipped into the lobby, he called after me, “I can see the resemblance.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I didn't get a chance to ask him because a woman was
already waiting in the elevator, holding the door for me.

But the second I walked into our apartment, it all made sense. It was one of those moments where, even though you can see everything going on, it still takes your mind a few seconds to process what it means. I don't know why, but this is the order of the thoughts that ran through my head:

1. The apartment is cool. Did the super install our air conditioner already?
   

2. Why didn't Moxie scurry to the door like she usually does?
   

3. Hold on!
   What is Dad doing sitting at the kitchen table, thumbing through
   The New York Times
   ?
   

I froze at the entrance to the room, dropping my backpack at my feet.

“Jimmy D.?” I whispered under my breath.

As soon as Dad saw me, he set his reading glasses on the table and stood up. I noticed he'd gotten several new lines around his eyes and his hair had receded further back on his forehead.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. My knees were starting to shake.

“I got your message yesterday morning, when Aunt
Jayne and I returned from our cycling trip. I caught the red-eye and arrived in the city this morning.”

“Where's Mom?”

“She took Moxie for a walk in the park. She thought you'd want to be alone with me.”

I stood there, speechless, staring at Dad. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around me. As I breathed in his familiar smell, tears started pouring down my cheeks. It was as if a dam had broken, because once I began crying, I just couldn't stop.

“I'm so sorry,” Dad kept repeating, stroking my hair, like when I was little and would wake up from a nightmare calling out his name. “I'm so, so sorry….”

I sobbed and sobbed, soaking the shoulder of Dad's shirt. When I finally began sniffling, Dad ran into the bathroom and returned with a box of Kleenex. As we sat on the futon, I wiped my nose, tossing the crumpled tissues onto the floor.

And that's when Dad began talking. He told me how he'd booked a room at a nearby hotel, for at least a week, but it could be extended. And how much he regrets taking off from Ithaca so quickly, so selfishly. That he was desperate and scared and could hardly see straight. And how sorry he is that he didn't read the writing on the wall all summer. And how, while he knows I'll never forget, he hopes someday I'll be able to forgive.

“I know this has been horrible for you,” Dad said. “I wish I had it to do all over again.”

“Are you and Mom still separating?”

“We had a long talk this morning. We're going to live apart this year, to see how things go. But after that, I don't think either of us knows.”

I glanced at Dad.

“I'm sorry to drag you through all this. Please understand that Mom and I love you deeply … and each other. We're just trying to do the right thing.”

I glanced into my lap.

“Even at our age,” he added, “the right thing sometimes takes a while to figure out.”

As I pressed my thumbnail into a mosquito bite on my thigh, it suddenly hit me. I too have to do the right thing.

I practically sprinted to the three-story brownstone. There were six buzzers next to the door. The bottom one was labeled Frank. After taking a deep breath, I pressed it.

“Yes?” Phoebe's voice sounded through the intercom.

I paused.

“Yes?”

“Hey … it's Sammie.”

“I'll be right down.”

Seconds later, Phoebe charged through the front door and threw her arms around me.

“I'm so glad you came,” she said as we walked down her stairs. “I was worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?” I paused, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

Phoebe shook her head. “That's exactly what I was worried about.”

As we started down Columbus, Phoebe explained how last Sunday, after the whole thing with Kitty, they'd received a call from Pittsburgh. Her grandmother had been rushed to the hospital, complaining of chest pain. Before Phoebe knew it, her mom had rented a car and they were driving west.

“I wanted to call you, to let you know I wouldn't be at the dog run all week,” Phoebe added, “but do you know how many Davises there are in the phone book?”

“Seven hundred?”

Phoebe grinned. “At least.”

“I thought you were angry about Kitty.”

“Kitty pissed me off,” Phoebe said, “but I didn't hold it against you. The only reason I left is because I sensed my being there was making it worse.”

As we stopped at a light, I turned to Phoebe. Tears
were welling up in my eyes again. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my parents. It's just that—”

Phoebe put up her hand to stop me. “You don't have to share anything you don't want to. I know you'll tell me when you're ready.”

Tears slid down my cheeks. “When you weren't at the dog run yesterday or today,” Phoebe added, “I was worried something had happened with your parents.”

“No.” I wiped the tears with the back of my hand. “I was hiking with Eli.”

As we started across the street, Phoebe looped her arm through mine. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I could swear there was something different about her.

Before I knew it, we were in front of the dog run, even though neither Moxie nor Dogma was with us. Phoebe unlatched the metal gate and ushered me in. Our favorite bench was occupied by two elderly men, most likely the evening crowd. As we sat off to the other side, Phoebe reached into her back pocket and pulled out a photograph.

“I wrote my phone number on the back”—Phoebe handed it to me—“so something like this doesn't happen again.”

I glanced at the picture of me taken that day in Central Park, with the Airedale. I don't know if it was
the way I was smiling or throwing out my chest as if I didn't have an insecurity in the world, but I kept thinking,
Maybe Eli is right.
I don't know about
beautiful
, but maybe I'm not so average after all.

“Did you scan a photo for Mountainking?” I asked. Phoebe shook her head.

“Why not?”

“Because I finally realized something.”

“What?”

“Mountainking is a German shepherd. And we all know what they do …”

I paused. It was starting to get dark out.

“They lead the blind?” I asked, scrunching up my nose.

“Exactly.” Phoebe nodded, “And I decided that I'd rather be the world's first ninety-year-old virgin than be blindly led by someone who dumps me with the click of his keyboard.”

As streetlights flickered on, it suddenly dawned on me.

“I just realized what's different about you! You're not wearing your knee brace anymore!”

Phoebe nodded. “I had a long talk with my mom on the drive back from Pittsburgh. I told her I never want to touch another tennis racket as long as I live.”

“What did she say?”

“That as long as I take up another extracurricular activity, it's okay with her.” Phoebe paused. “Wait a second! There's something different about you too.”

I grinned. “Does it have to do with hiking with Eli?”

I was smiling so hard I thought my face would crack.

“Sammie dearest.” Phoebe turned toward me, taking both of my hands in hers. “Tell Aunt Phoebe everything.”