The Story of Us (21 page)

Mom scooted down off the couch. Now the three of us were on the floor, Jupiter between us. Mom scratched her black velvet head, rubbed the tips of Jupiter’s ears the way she liked. Jupiter was smiling her dog smile. We were together, and she liked together.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“They could only find controllers at some outlet mall on the mainland. Gram and Aunt Bailey—you know they’d never miss an outlet mall. The place had a Golf Universe, so Grandpa and George went too. Dan took the girls to get them out of the house.”

“You could have had your family day. We’re the only ones not there.”

“You know how I love to shop.” She rolled her eyes. Yeah. School clothes shopping was a twice-a-year, get-it-done marathon. Ben and I would end up whining and pleading for a rest, clinging to the comfort of a dressing room chair. One Orange Julius break, and that was it.

“Probably if you went, Hailey and Amy wouldn’t go anyway.”

She sighed. “Don’t take it personally, honey. It’s hard. Complicated. Dan’s in a bind. They’re just …”

“Old enough to have a good attitude,” I said. It seemed pretty simple to me. Dan deserved that. Mom, too. You did your best, at least until you had real reason not to.

“We stole the food out of their bowl, you know? Like the dogs. Same thing. It’s hard,” she said again.

“Hard?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
How
hard? Cancel-the-wedding hard? “But if you love him—it’s supposed to be enough, right? If you have that …”

She tilted her head, looked me in the eyes. “Are you asking for me, or for you? Love … I loved your
dad
.”

I could forget that part, but it had to have been true.

She watched the fire. She spoke, finally. “There needs to be love, yeah.
And
all the right reasons for love.”

The fire popped and crackled. I smelled something cinnamon-y coming from the kitchen. I tried to concentrate on that. Because I felt so tired all at once, and I hadn’t been
myself, and I missed Janssen and my own home. My heart felt like it was being squeezed.

“Cricket, are you okay? You seem definitely not okay.” Mom took my hand. “There’s a lot going on for you right now. For all of us. All of this
moving on
.”

Shit.
Shit!
Suddenly I felt like I could cry. I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to cry.

“Crick?”

“How do you know what to do? What do I
do
?”

“Oh, honey,” she said. “You don’t always know.”

Damn, it was stupid, but I was crying, and stupid tears were rolling down my face, and I had to blow my nose, and my heart hurt so bad.

“You wait there, not knowing, until you do know,” Mom said. “Eventually you do.”

“Maybe not me,” I whispered.

“Yes, you, sugar. Knowing takes its own time. I swear sometimes you’ve gotta get really, really uncomfortable before it shows up.”

“The thing is,” I said. I tried to say.

“Sweetie, what?”

“I want the past. I want the past
with
the future.” I was a stupid, sniffing, crying mess. “I don’t want it to go away. I don’t want to lose what we had.” We, all of us. All of it.

“Oh, honey.” I heard her swallow hard too. Her own voice was unsteady. “I know. I do.”

She hugged me. My whole chest ached. I didn’t have words
for it, for everything that was happening. Had been happening, since Janssen and graduation and those moving boxes and that wedding dress in Mom’s closet. But I felt it all. Loss-life-hurt-change, I felt all of it.

My mother’s arms were around me, and I was getting her shirt all wet with my tears, and Jupiter was squashed between us. I could feel her breathing, her dog chest going up and down. It must have been hot in there, but she did what a good dog would. She stayed, still and patient.

“Something fishy’s going on here,” Gram said too loudly, talking over the music. She had worked her way next to me on the big deck overlooking the beach, where we’d all gathered for the barbecue. The weather had cleared just before sunset, giving us a raspberry mango sky. An outdoor fireplace was blazing warmth into the salty sea air of night. Lit lanterns hung from wires overhead, and small white lights twinkled from the palm trees planted in enormous ceramic pots. Rebecca had turned on some reggae.

“That’s just the salmon,” I said. Ted stood in the corner manning a big gas barbecue. Smoke billowed. He wore an apron over his Hawaiian shirt and jeans. Rebecca had set up a long table against the house, and platters of food—salads and breads and rice dishes—were heaped along it. Ben and Oscar
were already snitching stuff over there, before it was supposed to be time to eat. An entire bread roll disappeared into Ben’s mouth. Jupiter was lying on Cruiser’s bed, which had been dragged outside for the occasion. Her own bed sat next to his, empty, and he crouched on the floor nearby, watching her nervously. John and Jane both tried to coax spoonfuls of macaroni and cheese into Baby Boo’s clenched mouth, as he sat in a plastic chair shaped like an airplane.

“I don’t mean the
salmon
,” Gram said. Her eyes narrowed. “I mean that George. And
Mr.
Shine.” She flung her head sideways to indicate Grandpa and George, who stood innocently talking to Mom, dressed up now in a blowy blue batik skirt.

“It’s all fine, Gram,” I said. Oh no. Not her, too. Then again, she once thought her neighbor was the same man she’d seen on
48 Hours Mystery
, who’d chopped his wife up with a butcher knife.

“He gave him
money
,” she said. “I saw Grandpa slip George cash when we went to Subway. Why would he do that, tell me. Maybe George is a con man.” I looked over at George, who had his hands in his pockets shyly. “Do you know your grandfather couldn’t say no to a salesman to save his life? Fuller brush men, religious fanatics, whoever came knocking on our door, he’d let him in. We had vacuums, Amway, encyclopedias. People don’t even have encyclopedias anymore. I should have saved them. They’ll be collector’s items one day.”

“Maybe George was short on cash, Gram. Maybe Grandpa borrows from George too.”

“I tell you, there’s something those two haven’t told us. I’ve got a
feeling
.”

Aunt Bailey danced on over to the sound of steel drums. “Buf-falo sol-dya,” she sang. “Born in Amer-ica.”

“You guys look great,” I said. They both had new sweaters on. Gram’s was blue, and Aunt Bailey’s was green.

“Outlet mall, super deal,” Aunt Bailey said. “I found mine first.”

“We also got running shoes. Half off. I promise you, I’m going to find out what the situation is here,” Grandma said.

“Are you still going on about that?” Aunt Bailey said.
She
once was sure a painting she’d bought at a flea market was the work of a Renaissance master. An overactive imagination was obviously one of our family traits.

Ben and Oscar joined us. Ben handed Gram a wine cooler, and she twisted off the top and took a sip.

“Maybe they’re an
item
.” Aunt Bailey wiggled her eyebrows, and Gram nearly spit spritzer through her nose. But Ben caught my eye.
See?
his expression said.
Forget it,
I said with mine.

“Fat chance of that,” Gram said. “I know that man. He’s got a sex drive—”

“HOW ABOUT SOME CHIPS AND SALSA!” I shouted.

“Salsa has only fifteen calories,” Aunt Bailey said. “You can eat all you want of it in Weight Watchers.”

“Over on that small table.” I pointed.

Gram and Aunt Bailey headed off, and then, Jesus, Oscar put his hands on my waist, gave me a shake, and sort of pulled me to him. It was the same move he’d seen Ash do the night before. “One love,” he sang to the music. “One heart. Let’s get toge-ther and be-all-right.”

“Okay, that was fun,” I said. “Let’s play ‘keep your hands to yourself’ now.”

“Cricket.” Oscar looked hurt.

I ignored him. That note under my door, the handsy move—I’d deal with it with a swift kick of denial. I looked around. Took roll call in my head. “Where’s Hailey and Gavin?”

“Playing Road Racers in the tent,” Ben said. He wiggled his eyebrows like Aunt Bailey.

“Oh, my God,” I said. “Dan is going to love that.” I looked over at Mom, who was smiling and happy in the glowy light of the lanterns. Obviously she didn’t hear the disaster-movie music, telling her that the shark was now swimming right by the bikini-clad swimmer. This party was going downhill fast.

“It’s cool. They’re not—”

“Doing it,” Oscar said.

“She just likes the new joystick,” Ben said, and chuckled.

“You’re awful,” I said. “You’re as bad as Gram.” Gram was going at the salsa now, sliding closer to Grandpa and George, trying to listen in.

“No, I mean it,” Ben said. “Do you know she’s never played video games before? She can’t get enough. Gavin’s dream girl.
I guess she never was allowed to eat junk food either, and you should see what’s happening to those M&M’s.”

“Ted!” Rebecca yelled. “I need you!”

Rebecca waved a broom over her head, up near the roof. I saw him then. A big ball of gray fur, his black bandit mask. Little evil hands, wearing black leather-ish gloves. Cruiser spotted him too. He began to run and pace along the deck, and Jupiter jumped up and joined him, two against one, barking and howling.

“That’s him!” George said.

“If I had my shotgun, I’d shoot the bastard,” Grandpa Shine said.

“What are you saying, Arthur? We were always members of the Sierra Club. Always,” Gram said.

“Oh, my God!” Jane shrieked, and John flung himself in front of Baby Boo, who started to cry.

Mom and Ben and I were trying to hustle the dogs inside, and Ted was shouting at that raccoon and waving the broom, and then Dan hurried out, right before we shut the door. His hair was wet, just out of the shower, probably, and he was wearing a green polo shirt, not his style. The dogs paced back and forth in front of the windows, barking as if we were under imminent terrorist attack.

“It looks
very
handsome on you,” Aunt Bailey said. She stood next to Dan in her own new sweater. Both of them were as green as a golf course lawn.

“Well, it was very kind of you to get it for me,” Dan said.
Dan was a T-shirt and flannel kind of guy. He looked like he was about to play nine holes, or maybe head on over to the clubhouse for their Sunday buffet.

“I can’t resist a bargain,” said Aunt Bailey. “We should have gotten more colors.”

Green Dan kissed Green Aunt Bailey’s cheek. His shirt still had the fold lines on it. He approached me. “Do you know where Amy is?” I hooked my thumb toward the house. I could see Amy in there, sitting on the living room couch, holding her phone and texting. Dan exhaled in frustration. “Hailey?”

“She’s out in the tent with Gavin. Playing video games,” I said.

“That’s all they’re doing,” Oscar said. “They’re not making out or anything.”

Dan smoothed his hair back with the palm of his hand. “All right, okay.” His eyes were distracted. Ted put the broom down. The raccoon was gone. Baby Boo had calmed down now, and was eating a strawberry like a little angel. Mom came over, took Dan’s hand. “Hi, sweetie,” she said.

“Can you get Hailey?” Dan asked me. “It’s almost time to eat, by the look of things.”

“No problem,” I said.

“Everything all right, honey?” Mom asked him.

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

“I’ll come along,” Oscar said.

“No, I’ll be right back
alone.
”

I got the hell out of there, headed down the boardwalk
toward the beach. I could hear Dan’s urgent tones, and Mom’s
Oh no. You’re kidding
in a clearly pissed-off way. I heard Ben shout something that made people laugh, and the door opened again, and there was the scamper of dog toenails.

I touched down on the beach. I wondered if I could take the long way to Oscar and Gavin’s tent. Like maybe via Southern California. The music up there, the lights and the laughter and voices—it all seemed twinkly and merry from down here. Inside of it there were too many stories. People’s pasts and futures colliding.

I took a moment to breathe in the smell of the sea. Seaweed and murky green depths, coldness and salt. The waves rolled in over sand.
Chshsh … Cshshsh …
Maybe some things
were
forever. The ocean was. Tides in, tides out. A beach just
is
and always will be.

I heard laughter and screaming coming from that glowing tent globe. “Knock, knock,” I said.

Not loud enough, I guess, because when I pulled back the tent flap, I caught Hailey in Gavin’s lap, and at the sound of my voice, she jumped back and shrieked, twisted her shirt around the right way, grabbing at buttons. Gavin had sort of flung her off of him, and now looked more triumphant than embarrassed. I could see the television. A teddy bear sat in a car with its teddy bear arms raised over its head. The video words “YOU’RE THE WINNER!!!” danced happily around to cartoon circus music.