
EDNOR SCARDENS
KATHLEEN BARKER
Copyright © 2011 Kathleen Barker
ALL RIGHT RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this manuscript may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or review. For information contact the author at: http://fantasyislandbookpublishing.com
Structural Editor, BY: #1 BESTSELLER J. Darroll Hall
Content editor: Pamela Brennan
Cover design: Ceri Clark
For most of my childhood, I didn't dream much. Tonight would be different. People and places flashed randomly, not making sense -- just images of my school, the church building, nuns, priests, Michael and Gabe. They sped up, becoming more connected, like flipping pictures to make a jerky movie. Gabe's face was blurry but recognizable, and he was dressed in his altar boy's black cassock and white surplice. Mass was ending, and a priest stood next to him, bowing and blessing the congregation.
I strained to see their faces more clearly as they walked slowly toward the sacristy. Just before they moved out of view, the priest turned his head and stared at me. Terror shot through my veins as the face came into focus and I realized it was Father O'Connor. His mocking smile disappeared through the doorway as he followed Gabe. I fought to get out of the pew, running up the aisle in slow motion, trying to scream a warning. Reaching the sacristy door, I pushed it open only to find the room empty, and the floor littered with Gabe's shredded vestments.
EDNOR SCARDENS
My family lived in a brick row house, which today would be fancied up to a townhouse, in the thoroughly blue-collar neighborhood of Ednor Gardens in Baltimore. Our street was lined on both sides with large oak trees, whose winged seed cases I loved to put in my mouth just the right way to make a loud buzzing sound. The adults cursed the fiery mantle of leaves that covered the sidewalks each fall, but I loved crunching them underfoot. The houses on our side were built on a ridge with tiers of steps that led down the undulating, double-hilled lawns. The house that my mom, grandmother and I shared consisted of three bedrooms and one bath upstairs, a small living room/dining room/kitchen downstairs, and a concrete-floored basement.
Holy Sacrament was where I attended elementary school, along with most of the kids in my neighborhood. The parish complex took up nearly a half-block, lined in a row: the church, the rectory where the priests lived, and then the school building which was attached to the convent. All of the structures were built of nondescript grey stone. The floors were covered with a dull linoleum tile and almost everything else -- walls, doors, ceilings and steps -- were dark mahogany wood. There were two stories of classrooms, and the below-ground level had a weird cave-like passageway to the music room. It was probably built that way so that no one could hear our terrible singing voices. The far end of the cave opened up into the gymnasium/lunchroom, and eventually the playground.
School was a blur of maroon cotton uniform dresses with white peter pan collars, saddle shoes, white socks and skull-hugging beanies to be worn to Mass. Only the girls had to wear beanies, and I could never figure out why God would be offended by the top of my head.
On the first Friday of every month, all students had to attend Mass in the adjoining church before classes. We sat on long, hard, wooden pews, monitored by patrolling nuns in black habits and stern expressions. Their soundless glide made them appear to float down the aisles like grim reapers.
A popular gift for parents to give their kids was the Roman Catholic Daily Missal. The religious stores advertised this book of prayers and rituals as "your lifelong liturgical companion". It was popular to collect holy cards that pictured various saints, to serve as bookmarks. The real reason for their popularity was their use as trading cards. My favorite way to waste time during church was to make up captions for the cards in an effort to evoke laughter from a classmate, which drew a squad of nuns while I innocently lip-synched whatever prayer was on the open page of my missal. Eternal damnation loomed with certainty for me.
Report cards were handed out quarterly by Father Woods who visited each classroom and announced each student's grades. I actually looked forward to it, only because my mom gave me a quarter for every "A". There were always a couple of boys who got "D's" or "F's", which drew a scolding from the priest. Public humiliation was an extremely popular form of punishment at Holy Sacrament, but it didn't seem very effective, as the same boys were always the subject of Father's wrath. That wasn't a problem for Gabe, whose grades were usually perfect. Yet report card day was a distinct trial for him because of his name. He'd stand with his eyes glued to the floor as the crimson flush slowly crept across his cheeks to his reddish-blonde hair. Father Woods never failed to slowly enunciate, "Gabriel Seamus Kelsey". The boys would snicker and I had to look away as discomfort washed over him.
Gabe was shy, but easy to like...at least I thought so. Good-looking in a pretty, almost feminine way, he was subject to frequent torment from the other boys. He sat directly across the narrow aisle from me, and was the only grade school boy I knew who ever used a handkerchief. I shuddered to think what the underside of the other boys' desks looked like.
The large, fenced playground behind the school was austere: no swings, monkey bars or apparatus. A wide, white line down the middle separated boys from girls on the blacktopped concrete. The line wasn't a bad idea, as the boys ran around recklessly at top speed while the girls jumped rope, played hopscotch on hand-drawn diagrams, or stood around making fun of whomever they didn't like that day. At dismissal, everyone split into groups to walk home to assorted neighborhoods. I knew where most of my classmates lived, but Gabe always walked home alone in a different direction from my group. Missy, Ellen, Anita and I took the same route home every day after stopping at McLarty's drugstore for a drink or snack. Our lives were so ordinary, blissfully ignorant of politics, world events and the true nature of evil. To us, evil was the devil and Hell, period.
By sixth grade, Anita Collins had become my closest friend, and she clearly shared my tendency toward dark humor. Neither of us had patience with puzzles or riddles, and thought them a stupid waste of time and brainpower. But Anita was more adventurous than me, dancing a line between the comfortable and the unknown.
The four of us were obnoxiously loud eleven-year-old girls, gossiping, telling jokes and laughing along the walk from school. That particular day, I happened to be the proud possessor of a pristine piece of white chalk that I'd filched from the classroom at dismissal. When I took it, I was unaware that one of the duties of the class monitor was to count the pieces at the end of each day.
Ellen had a crush on a boy named Michael. It was a relatively safe crush, as no self-respecting eighth grade boy would be caught dead with a sixth grade girl. Michael Kelsey was tall for an eighth grader, already approaching six feet. He towered over most of his classmates, with the exception of the two boys who were repeating the grade for the second time. Thick, curly, dark brown hair framed his face, which was dominated by deep violet-blue eyes. Whenever he served as altar boy at Mass, the pews were packed with an adoring, pre-pubescent audience who prayed fervently for his glance in their direction. Michael was the imaginary boyfriend of every girl at Holy Sacrament, but didn't show a preference for any of the girls who would have kissed their souls goodbye in exchange for his affections. He was also Gabe's older brother.
So while Ellen raved about how gorgeous Michael was, I pulled out my chalk, drew a big heart on the blacktop and wrote, "Ellen M. loves Michael K." inside it. When she finished her lovesick rant and saw it, she went berserk.
"NO! Erase that!" she screamed. Anita, Missy and I choked with laughter as Ellen danced, trying to scuff out the proclamation, but nearly destroying her saddle shoes in the process. I paused when I saw Gabe walking on the other side of the street. He glanced at the chalk message, made eye contact with me and then continued on his way.
CHAPTER TWO -- The Fitter
At her request, I called my grandmother "Nan". She said being called grandma made her feel old. Well, compared to me, she WAS old, but I thought of her as a version of myself, fast-forwarded several decades. Her non-judgmental approach to my confidences made me go to her first when I needed help. Mom was more difficult to approach. She'd listen to my pre-teen crises, but her attention wandered after the first few sentences. Nan was intensely interested and her green eyes were mysterious to me. They were kind eyes, but when I wasn't in full disclosure mode, they would lay waste to the untruths that fell from my lips.
The backbone of our shrunken family, she'd answer my questions with just enough information and nothing more. Mom was her only child, and grandfather died when Nan was in her thirties. As strong as Nan was, it seemed odd that Mom was so fragile, like she couldn't get all of her pieces together in the same place at the same time. All I knew about my dad was that he'd been killed in action during the war, a few months before I was born. I learned not to ask her much about him, because whenever I did, her pain surfaced, threatening to scatter the pieces even more. Yet I knew without a doubt that she loved me.
Mom was always doing things for the nuns at school and it drove Nan crazy, especially if it was for my teacher, Sister Teresa. She was okay as far as nuns went, but she usually operated on the edge of hysteria. It worked though, because you didn't mess with her unless you wanted to be hauled into the coatroom. I experienced it only once, when she'd had enough of Anita and me whispering during class. Grabbing the sleeve of my uniform, she pulled me into the long, dark room. The coat hook pressed against the back of my head, creasing my skin, while her face loomed inches from mine. I expected her to yell, but in an almost feral whisper, she asked,
"How would you like a seat in the eighth grade boys' classroom?"
As soon as students reached the seventh grade, boys and girls were segregated into separate classrooms. That arrangement led to the most powerful discipline tool that the nuns possessed, especially for the sixth and seventh grade girls. There could be nothing worse than sitting in a chair at the front of a room filled with older boys, their skin ravaged and eyes glazed by surging hormones. And if you were an "early bloomer" as Nan called it, every pair of eyes would be glued to your chest.
I'd bloomed the summer before sixth grade. Mom was in denial, so Nan took me to a local department store for an appointment with a fitter. In hell and sweating uncontrollably, I walked into the lingerie department with her, looking at the freestanding racks jammed with bras and wanting to hide inside the bars the way I'd done when I was five. Nan steered me away from the huge, prison-matron sizes that would have obliterated my face with a single cup. Surprisingly, the fitter was younger than I'd anticipated. Her name was Margie, and I felt better when she managed a conspiratorial wink while Nan explained what she wanted. As I followed her to the dressing room, I prayed that no one else would be in there. Margie went to the room at the very back and opened the louvered door.
"I'm going to stay out here, Kate, while you try these on." She stuck her arm through the narrow opening, handing me the bras. "Let me know when you're ready."
With lightening speed, I pulled my shirt over my head, squinting my eyes because I wasn't ready to see "them" displayed in a three-way mirror. Anita once told me that store detectives sat on the other side of the one-way mirrors to catch people who tried to steal things. I hoped she was wrong.
"Okay?" I squeaked.
Margie smiled as she opened the door just enough to slip through, positioning herself behind me to check the straps and hooks.
"I think we have a winner. Would you like to wear it home?" I smiled and turned red again, forgetting that she meant for me to put my blouse on over it.
CHAPTER THREE -- Humiliation
"I'm waiting for your answer!" Sister Teresa rasped. There was no room to back away, and her eyes had that wild look that appeared when she'd been pushed beyond her daily limit. Nothing came out of my open mouth. I was sure that I saw a cruel little smile as she wheeled around and said, "Follow me. I have to get back to the students who want to learn."
Feeling like Marie Antoinette, I followed her down the hall. Sr. Earle opened the door, surprise registering in her eyes, as I'd never been in any kind of trouble at school before. She was a very young nun, straight out of the novitiate, Mom said, and twenty-one at most. You could see, even dressed in a nun's habit and veil, that she was pretty.
"Miss Fitzgerald needs to spend some time in your classroom this afternoon," said my now-personal demon.
The door opened wide enough for me to enter and I saw the chair that waited across the room, at the very front, facing sideways. Twenty pairs of eyes watched my scarlet face as I kept my eyes on the floor, too ashamed to look at any of those slack-jawed idiots. When I did look up, it was at Sr. Earle, who had her back to the boys, writing a math problem on the board, but when she glanced over, I saw a kind, half-smile play at her lips. Every stupid boy in that class continued to stare when I suddenly remembered the new bra, flashing neon lights on my chest. I silently begged God to let the floor open up and swallow me. Go ahead and look, you idiots, my mind screamed.
A boy named Bobby France pulled a book out of his desk and put it across his lap. Next to him, George Anders snickered as the atmosphere swept sickeningly through the rows and math problems went unsolved. I turned my head slightly to glare at Bobby, and then I saw HIM. Michael Kelsey was right there, just two seats away from me, with a distinctly different expression, a compassionate one. Our eyes met briefly, and then he smiled. I hesitated, returned a quick smile and then looked away, concentrating on ignoring the other 19 morons. Math instruction continued for another half hour until Michael rose and walked toward Sister's desk. She stopped grading papers and looked up.
"Yes, Mr. Kelsey?" Her voice was quiet but firm.
"Sister, would you like me to escort Kate back to her class now?"
I felt my jaw drop, and quickly closed it. How did he know my name? She rose from her desk and walked gracefully, placing herself between me and the geek gallery.
"Kate, I'm going to have Michael take you back to your classroom now. He'll tell Sister Teresa that you're to be allowed to return." She smiled briefly and walked us to the door, still shielding me from the others.
"Thank you, Sister," I whispered, as we stepped through the door into the hall. I wanted to break into a run, but forced myself to take measured steps while the heat washed over my face yet again. Michael moved to my side as the door closed and said,
"Well, that was pretty awful, hmmm?"
"Yes, and thanks f-for....," I stuttered.
"No problem," he replied. It struck me that I'd never heard his voice before and thought I detected a touch of Gabe's expression in his features.
"You're in my brother's class, right?" he asked easily, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to be talking to me. I nodded mutely, struggling to look away from his dark blue eyes.
Everyone could see us standing there through the window. I couldn't help the tiniest smug smile as Michael delivered Sr. Earle's message. As I walked through the door, he flashed a grin, winking at me behind Sr. Teresa's back. Anita's eyebrows nearly touched her hairline. It was killing her to not be able to drill me with questions.
CHAPTER FOUR -- Crisis
Anita wasn't the only one who'd noticed us standing at the entrance to our classroom. Gabe's eyes shifted from the door to me, and then back to his worksheet again. As soon as the dismissal bell rang, Anita leapt out of her seat.
"Tell me what happened!" she demanded.
"Wait until we're outside!"
"Just a moment, boys and girls," Sr. Teresa commanded. "Every one of you is to remain in your seat until I get to the bottom of this." We looked at each other, puzzled. "Someone in this class has stolen chalk from the board. We will all sit here until the thief confesses," she announced. After my trip to the eighth grade that afternoon, I couldn't possibly own up to my crime. As long as my girlfriends didn't look at me, I might escape detection. Gabe must've figured it out, but didn't let on. Twenty torturous minutes crept by in silence. This was so stupid. No one was going to confess. Suddenly, Gabe rose from his desk.
"Sister, I took the chalk," he declared, looking remorseful.
My head snapped around, mouth gaping in disbelief. What was he talking about? Why would he take the heat for something I'd done? Sister motioned for him to approach.
"Please face the class, Mr. Kelsey. Shame on you for stealing from the Church! You may report to the principal's office before class tomorrow."
Poor Gabe. His eyes studied the wooden planks in the floor as he picked up his books.
"Class dismissed!" Sr. Teresa screamed.
Anita and I ducked through the front door. She locked her arm around my elbow, pulling me apart from the mass exodus.
"Well, that was strange! Why would Gabe take the blame for you and that stupid piece of chalk?" she wondered. "Listen, you're killing me. Tell me everything that happened with Michael."
I recounted the whole ordeal and laughed at her open-mouthed, disbelieving stare.
"Do you think he likes YOU?" she asked incredulously.
I was a little offended at her tone, as if I would be totally unworthy, but knew what she meant. "Oh, come on, Anita! He's an eighth grader. He could have anyone he wanted for his girlfriend, so why would he bother with me?" The words were no sooner out of my mouth, when Gabe passed by less than five feet away. I thought I saw the corner of his mouth tilt, but he didn't stop. "Oh, shoot, Anita! I know Gabe heard that. Now he's going to tell his brother and I'll never be able to look at Michael again."
Anita waved her hand, summarily rejecting my protest.
"Get real, like he doesn't know that every girl in this school wants him to be her boyfriend."
Missy and Ellen caught up and the four of us continued home while Anita excitedly filled them in on all the details.
That night at the dinner table, I pushed the Jimmy Wu's chow mein (normally my favorite) around my plate and chewed my lower lip.
"So, how was it, wearing your new bra today?" mom blurted out.
My stomach twisted, recalling the gawk-fest that afternoon. I glared at her in disbelief. Nan quickly changed the subject, but it didn't matter. I had to get to my room.
"Can I be excused?" I pleaded, looking at Nan as she nodded her head in permission. My feet took two steps at a time until I reached my room and threw myself across my bed. Hushed voices chattered back and forth downstairs. Mom's tendency to distraction frequently caused her to say the wrong things to me at the wrong times. It angered me when she did that, but Nan was the perfect buffer between us. Exhausted, I closed my eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE -- Reparations
When I woke up, I knew what I had to do that day. I dressed quickly, steeling myself for the hell that would be unavoidable on the walk to school with my friends, especially from Ellen who was still angry over the chalk heart. It was a horribly awkward march as Ellen paired up with Missy while Anita and I followed. As soon as we got to school, I sat down at my desk and turned toward Gabe.
"Hi, um, I need to ask you something." It took a concentrated effort to keep my voice normal. He looked at me quizzically.
"Sure, what's up?"
I took another deep breath. "Well, do you remember the other day when you passed me on your way home? I was with my friends, and we were laughing at something I wrote on the street." My cheeks felt like they were going to burst into flames.
"Oh, yeah, I saw you," his eyes semi-crinkled with amusement.
I hadn't really noticed before how blue they were. It was strange, after being in class together for what was now our sixth year, that I was surprised by this. The contours of his face had changed somewhat over the summer, losing much of the little boy roundness. His jaw seemed more angular as if the man he would become was making inroads. Several seconds passed, and I bit down on my lower lip to bring myself back to the purpose of my questioning.
"Uh, did you see what was written on the street?" I stammered. Now he really was beginning to smile, and nodded affirmatively. I was pinching my hand under my desk to make myself keep going.
"Did you tell Michael what it said?"
He pursed his lips. "Well, I told him I'd seen you. Was it something I shouldn't have told him?" His smile dimmed as concern registered.
"No, well, it's my fault for writing it. Ellen's furious with me because your brother thinks SHE wrote it."
Gabe wrinkled his brow. "He knows that you wrote it, not Ellen."
My mouth formed a little "O" shape as I realized how to fix this. "By the way, WHY on earth did you tell Sr. Teresa that you took that chalk when you knew it was me?"
"Well, the principal likes me, so I knew she wouldn't make a big deal out of it. Besides, I thought you'd had enough for one day," he chuckled.
"Uh, thanks, but you still shouldn't have done that."
His playful smile returned as the bell rang, ending our conversation.
All morning long, Ellen avoided looking at me. Anita kept throwing amused but sympathetic grins my way. When we finally made our way to the lunch room, I plopped down next to Anita. Ellen moved to sit with Missy at another table. This was not good.
"Looks like Ellen's really PO'd about this," Anita remarked.
I studied my lunch tray for a moment and then jerked my head when Gabe put his tray down at our table, directly across from me. He never sat with anyone except his brother. Anita's eyebrows shot up.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked politely.
"No, sure, go ahead," I replied.
A shy, grateful smile flashed across his face as he took his seat.
"Kate, you looked kind of upset this morning. I hope I didn't cause you any trouble."
"No, Gabe, really, it was totally my fault. Don't worry about it," I assured him. Anita kicked my leg under the table. He ate his lunch quickly, nervous about sitting with us for the first time.
"See you later," he said as he rose quickly to empty his tray into the trash on the way to recess.
"Anita, I have to take care of something at recess, by myself. I'll see you later." She frowned suspiciously.
"Ditching me to go with Gabe?"
"No, it has nothing to do with him," I assured her, and walked away to the yard before she could press for an explanation. Once outside, I scanned the area to the left of the painted line -- the boys' side. The eighth grade boys usually congregated in one area, apart from the little kids who ran pell-mell across the yard. Michael was leaning against the fence near the center line, repeatedly tossing a ball into the air and catching it. I forced my feet to move forward until he stopped throwing the ball and looked straight at me. His face was neutral and the breeze blew his dark curls around his cheekbones. My heart hammered...audibly, I was sure.
"Hi, Michael! Um, I need to tell you something." His expression was static. "I just thought you should know that I was the one who drew that stuff on the street the other day, not Ellen."
His eyes softened. "I know, but thanks." Sensing my discomfort, he turned away and resumed tossing the ball.
Ellen's back was toward me, as she directed her attention to Missy. Anita had been watching me the whole time. I walked over to their tight knot.
"Hey, Ellen, I'm really sorry about that chalk thing. I told Michael that I drew it, so I hope you won't still be mad at me." Her eyes narrowed, telegraphing that she wasn't quite sure whether to believe me. Anita chimed in,
"She really did, Ellen."
"Well, just don't ever do anything like that again," Ellen said glumly.
I nodded in agreement and the crisis was over.
CHAPTER SIX -- A New Face
As the first quarter ended, things began to change. At church one Sunday, Father Woods -- the head honcho/pastor -- announced that a new priest would be joining him at Holy Sacrament to assist with the duties of our growing parish. The new associate pastor's name was Father James O'Conner, and he'd previously taught at an all-girls school in New York State. Great... another Irish weapon at report card time, which was nearly here.
We were also officially old enough now for upper class duties: sacristy team for the girls and altar service for the boys. It was considered an honor to be chosen to help clean the altar area and the room behind it, where the priests and altar boys prepared for Mass. Sister Earle headed the girls' group. Father Woods used to be in charge of the altar boys, but Father O'Conner would head that up now.
My relationship with Gabe began to change, too. He became much easier to talk with and less shy, sitting regularly at our lunch table. The friendlier he became, the tighter my stomach would get when I looked into his eyes. The babble of other voices in the lunchroom was often reduced to background noise as I zoned in on his voice alone. We looked ridiculous at recess, standing on either side of the painted line to talk to each other.
As much as I avoided cleaning at home, I wanted badly to be chosen for sacristy duty for the status it bestowed. Gabe felt the same way about being an altar boy. I'm sure he thought that it would do the same for him in the girl department as it had done for his older brother. Both of us got our wish.
There was an anxious edge in the air as report cards loomed, because Fr. O'Conner was an unknown quantity. I had nothing to worry about as far as grades were concerned, but I dreaded the embarrassment it always caused Gabe.
The morning when grades came out, I could see how nervous he was.
"Hey, Gabe, relax! Don't let those idiots get to you. I like your name," I said, trying to defuse the situation. His cheeks were flushed and my stomach lurched at how beautiful it looked against his reddish-blonde hair and blue eyes. Anita saw the eye lock and shot a spit ball into my arm.
"Boys and girls, please stand for our new associate pastor, Fr. James O'Conner," Sr. Teresa intoned.
The new priest entered our classroom for the first time. He was lanky, about six feet tall, young and obviously Irish with flaming hair, green eyes and rimless glasses. Unusually good-looking for a priest, his energetic walk was very different from Fr. Wood's funereal stroll.
"Good morning, class! I'm Fr. O'Conner, your new associate pastor. I hope to get to know all of you very well. Sister, let's get this show on the road!"
Could Sister Teresa be blushing? Nuns were supposed to be married to God, brides of Christ or something. She handed him the stack of report cards, and he started going down the list. He wasn't too heavy-handed, even with the students that were at the bottom of the grade scale. When he came to Gabe's card, I held my breath.
"Gabe Kelsey," he called out.
Relief washed over both of our faces as Gabe rose from his seat. O'Conner looked approvingly at him, congratulated him on his good grades, and told him he looked forward to working with him as an altar boy. Gabe thanked him and sat down.
I looked over at him and mouthed "Wow!"
"Kate Fitzgerald" rang out. I stood up and waited for my grades.
"All A's, Kate! I'm very pleased with your performance." He looked me over, a little too thoroughly I thought, and encouraged me to continue to work hard. When he left to go on to the next class, Gabe's body relaxed as he slid down into his seat, smiling with relief.
CHAPTER SEVEN -- The Proposal
Sacristy instruction was pretty simple: dusting, polishing and filling the cruets that held the water and wine. It wasn't rocket science. Sr. Earle soon trusted me to work without supervision. Sunday Mass called for Saturday preparations, which was fine with me as it got me out of the house. Nan always found stuff for me to do if I looked bored.
Gabe, on the other hand, had much more to do in order to become an altar server. He had to learn all the responses as well as what to hand Father at the right time. Michael helped him with some of the stuff, but Fr. O'Conner spent a lot of time getting him ready for his first Mass. With the crush of the fast-approaching Christmas services, he needed a lot of practice to be ready on time. We often ran into each other when my sacristy duties overlapped his instructional sessions. My relationship with Sr. Earle was nothing compared to Gabe and this new priest. He treated Gabe like a long-lost son, and Gabe reminded me of an overgrown puppy around him. It was good to see him so happy, so enthusiastic at last.
Near the end of November, we were at church working on the same Saturday. Since it might be our last chance before winter to eat lunch outside, we sat together on the church steps.
"How's everything coming along, Gabe? Are you almost ready for your debut?" I teased.
His eyes were bright and excited. "Yeah, Father says I can serve Sunday after next at the eight o'clock Mass." He laughed easily, and offered, "I guess I have to start at the early Mass since there'll be fewer people to notice my screw-ups. I'm not ready for prime time, as they say."
I elbowed him playfully. "You'll be fine. I'll come and watch if you want."
He rewarded me with a brilliant smile. "You'd really get up that early and come to see me?"
"Of course! What are friends for?" I said through my teeth as I felt the cold wind claw through my thin sweater.
He threw his arm around my shoulders and gave a sideways hug that was probably meant as much to warm me up as to express his gratitude. Whatever it meant, I felt oddly pleased.
Monday and school came again too fast, but I didn't mind as much anymore. It was amazing how much had changed since the school year began, and today was no exception. At the end of class, Gabe leaned across the narrow aisle.
"Hey, would it be okay if I walked home with you today?" he asked.
That took me by surprise, as his house was in a different direction. "Uh, sure, but won't that make your walk home pretty long?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "It's not that much farther."
Shoving notes and study sheets into our book bags, we made our way out of the building through the stream of students. The usual group dynamic changed as Anita, Ellen and Missy walked in front, while Gabe and I followed a couple of yards behind. After the other girls peeled off from our group as we passed their houses, Gabe startled me by wheeling around to face me.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but there's something I want to ask. I wondered if...uh, if you would go to the Christmas dance with me?"
"I'll have to convince my mom first."
"Okay, sure. You'd really go with me if she says okay?"
"Yeah, Gabe, it would be fun."
He shyly took my hand as we resumed walking, slightly swinging our arms.
"See you tomorrow," he called, as I turned to go up my front steps.
Thankful that my face was already pink from the cold, I paused at my door and swore that I saw him do a little skip as he walked down the street.
CHAPTER EIGHT -- The Man in the Car
As soon as I walked out the door to join my friends on the way to school the next morning, Anita grabbed my shoulders.
"Kate, I KNOW you have something to tell me about the rest of your walk home yesterday. Gabe was dying for us to leave. I could see it on his face the whole way home!"
I couldn't resist playing with her a little. "Anita, you're crazy. All he said was goodbye when we passed my house."
She looked like a little kid who had to go to the bathroom, jumping up and down. "Tell me, please, before I go crazy!"
I drew each word out. "He.....asked.....me....to.....the.....Christmas......dance!"
The three of them froze where they stood and squealed.
"God, you are kidding! Why can't that stuff happen to me?" Ellen moaned.
Anita teased, "Maybe if you had big boobs, it would."
"Gabe did NOT ask me because of that!" I fumed.
"I'm just kidding, Kate. But you gotta admit it doesn't hurt. It's not a bad thing, just an unfair advantage."
"Oh, forget it, Anita. I thought you'd be happy for me," I pouted.
She elbowed me. "Lighten up! I am happy for you. The rest of the cretins in our class don't have the nerve yet to ask anyone to the dance."
"Well, I still have to ask my mom. And I wish some of the other girls in our class were going. She's going to say I'm too young, I just know it."
About two blocks from school, I noticed a silver car parked at the curb next to the sidewalk with a man just sitting in it, staring at us. Missy hadn't noticed, but Ellen and Anita did.
"Take a picture, why don't you?" Anita muttered.
As we walked past, we glanced into the car, and saw that he had his pants unzipped. He was holding himself, moving his hands. Shock waves rippled through our group as we instinctively broke into a run.
Ellen gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth as if she were about to puke, and said in a strangled voice, "I'm never getting married!"
The entire atmosphere changed. Anita and I looked at each other and burst into hysterical laughter. Missy seemed torn between empathizing with Ellen and joining our laughter. Other than seeing someone's baby brother getting a bath or a diaper change, I didn't think that any of us had seen that before.
Later, I began to wonder if the man was dangerous. Should we tell someone about this? The incident sank into a different perspective by the time we reached school. I felt slightly nauseated, and every boy I saw at school that morning brought weird, tainted thoughts into my now less-innocent mind. When I sat at my desk, I couldn't even look at Gabe. He noticed my odd behavior immediately.
"Kate, is something wrong? Are you getting sick?"
I guessed that in a way I was, as I fought to stifle the panic that was rising inside. I bit my lip and stared straight ahead as my face continued to burn.
"What's wrong? Say something. Are you mad at me?"
There wasn't any way to tell him about something like this. I'd rather die first than try to describe it. He sat back, silent now, waiting for me to speak. But I kept staring at the front of the classroom until the bell rang, ending the possibility of conversation.
At lunch, Gabe didn't sit with us. He was back at his brother's table. They were deep in conversation, their heads close together. Michael had his arm draped over his brother's shoulder, apparently trying to comfort him. Gabe looked stressed and confused.
"Hey, Kate, what did Gabe think of our close encounter this morning?" Anita asked, almost casually. Unlike my all-female household, she had a dad and an older brother, so who knows what she'd seen before?
"I didn't say anything about it to him. I was too embarrassed," I replied.
"Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. It was just some perv being weird," she scoffed.
I concentrated on my cardboard sandwich so that I could escape to the outside air. Anita eyed me carefully, letting me have my space. But when I got up from the lunch table and went outside, she broke rank and walked straight to Michael. As she spoke with him, I saw storm clouds gathering on his face. He looked angry and his eyes seemed charged with electricity. When he looked over, I quickly looked away. God! Now he knew too. How could Anita talk about something like that so easily with Michael, of all people?
The afternoon dragged as Gabe and I sat silently through class. It made no difference that I hadn't done anything to be ashamed of. It was knowledge that I was not ready to possess. At dismissal, I grabbed my book bag and ran from class. There would be no walking home with Gabe or anyone else. I needed to be home, in my room.
CHAPTER NINE -- The Sacristy
Lying across my bed with my door closed, I wondered why things were getting so complicated. My body was changing - a little faster than the other girls, but I had no control over that. Anita called it an 'unfair advantage', like a tactical weapon. My chest size shouldn't be an issue, yet other people apparently thought it was: the eighth grade boys who stared when I'd served my time in their classroom, and the girls who looked at me with veiled envy. Perhaps it was why boys, who'd previously ignored me, were turning their heads to look again after I passed by. Since these contours weren't going to disappear anytime soon, I had to make peace with them. They were here to stay. I sighed heavily and gave in to exhaustion.
"It's time for dinner, sleepyhead," Nan's voice floated into my consciousness.
I needed to talk to her, to get her on my side about the Christmas dance, before asking mom about it.
Nan's name was Katherine Callahan. We looked alike and thought alike. Although her hair color had faded and was laced with grey, I'd seen photographs of her when she was younger. The auburn hair, green eyes and hourglass figure were merely a backdrop for her then twenty-year-old face and the fierce spirit that glowed through her Irish skin. Her husband, my grandfather Nat Callahan, was darkly handsome. She told me that an Irishman with that hair and coloring was called 'Black Irish', because they looked so different from their ubiquitous red-haired countrymen. She called him a 'ladies man' when she met him, and for that reason, refused to go out with him. But he was persistent, showing up at her house one day to ask her father if he could take her out with a chaperone. She finally relented.
It was slow going, as his former reputation made her feel that he wasn't to be trusted. He courted her for two years before she agreed to marry him. In every photo I'd ever seen of him, he always looked at her with adoring eyes. It made me giggle to see how triumphant she looked. Mom was her firstborn, nearly nine months to the day after they were married. A baby boy named Nat, Jr. was born about a year later, but succumbed to diphtheria before his second birthday. Nan had just turned thirty when her handsome husband died instantly from a brain aneurysm. She never remarried. I often thought it was because she never found anyone who could come close to the man that her husband had been.
"Nan, I have to ask mom something at dinner, and I want her to say 'yes'. Gabe Kelsey asked me to the Christmas dance at school, and I really want to go. Can you back me up?"
She was quiet for a moment. "Well, since it's a chaperoned school function, I think it should be alright," she responded cautiously.
"Thanks. It's not a big deal, but mom might make it into one."
We walked down to the kitchen and Nan winked at me as the three of us sat down for dinner. Mentally, I counted down, 'Three, two, one, go'.
"Mom, there's going to be a Christmas dance at school and I want to go. Is that okay with you?" She didn't seem too concerned yet.
"I guess so. Are you going with Anita and the other girls?"
How could I make this sound like something other than a date?
"We can't go in a group, so I'm going to meet Gabe Kelsey there. He's a friend in my class." I could see things click in her brain. Why did today have to be the day that she paid attention to my life?
"Kate, I'm not sure about that. I don't know this boy and you're too young to be dating."
"Mom, it isn't a date. It's just a dance. Besides, the nuns will be there to chaperone the whole time. And I need you or Nan to drive me and pick me up anyway."
Nan jumped in. "Kathleen, I can take Kate to the dance. It sounds like a nice little school function."
"Well, as long as Nan takes you and it's a sixth grade function, I guess it would be okay."
YES! My deceitful mind crowed. It was a sixth grade function only in the sense that we were allowed to attend, but it would be mostly seventh and eighth graders there. So, technically, I wasn't lying. Nan's lasers were on me. I looked down at my plate.
"Okay, thanks a lot, Mom." I ate quickly and went back upstairs to do my homework and finish sleeping.
Morning came slowly as I dreamed fitfully about the man in the car, woke up and then dreamed it again. Despite my late afternoon nap, I was still tired when I joined my group of girlfriends to walk to school. Anita immediately asked,
"What did your mom say about going with Gabe to the Christmas dance?"
"She said okay, but don't say anything to your mom about it. That's all I need is for them to talk to each other. If my mom finds out that you aren't going, she might change her mind."
Anita sniffed. "Hey, there's still time for someone to ask me. Who knows, maybe Michael will?" she teased.
I felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. This astonished me, because I liked Gabe. I hadn't even thought about whether Michael would be going to the dance. Gabe had told me that his brother didn't really date because none of the girls at our school interested him.
"That would be cool," I tossed back with a forced smile.
She glanced at my chest and joked, "I'll bet if I had those, he'd ask me."
"Cut it out, Anita. He's not like that. And please lay off the boob remarks, okay?"
"Geez, aren't we a little sensitive today? You know I'm just teasing you because I wish I were a little more 'advanced'. I'm about to resort to rubbing fertilizer on myself."
We both laughed at that mental picture.
As we got closer to the corner where the man had been parked the day before, I felt my throat tighten. I saw the same silver car waiting, and this time, the passenger window was rolled down. I grabbed Anita's arm. Ellen and Missy froze.
"Oh, God, it's there again! What're we going to do?" Even Anita looked concerned.
"Maybe it isn't him. Maybe it's just a different silver car," she said unconvincingly.
We were so focused on the car that we didn't see the waiting figure at the opposite end of the street. Whoever it was began to move toward us. When he got closer, I realized it was Michael Kelsey. What was he doing here? He didn't come this way to school. His jaw was set and he had that same stormy look as yesterday when Anita talked to him in the schoolyard. Neither my friends nor I had moved since spotting the car. Michael walked with measured steps, slowly past the silver car, turning and staring directly at the man inside. No one would take him for a thirteen year old boy. As he approached our group, his face softened.
"I thought you girls might like some company today." He glanced over the four of us, and then rested his gaze on me.
My stomach was flipping so much that I thought the Sugar Pops I had for breakfast were going to come back up. Anita's face broke into a wide grin.
"This is awesome, Michael! Thanks!" she sang.
He gave her a brief smile of acknowledgment and resumed staring.
An engine roared to life, as the car made a u-turn and raced down the street. Even with the immediate danger past, my heart continued to thump out of control. Michael walked with us the rest of the way to school. My girlfriends did their best impressions of flirting with him. I counted sidewalk cracks, but every time I sneaked a sideways glance, he was staring at me with an amused smile. As we went up the school's front steps, he suddenly peeled off and headed to his classroom.
"Wow! Can you believe that?" Anita crowed.
"No, I can't," I replied breathlessly. "That was really nice of him."
In our classroom, Gabe was already at his desk. When I sat down, he looked at my face tentatively after the way I had acted the day before. I pretended nothing unusual had happened.
"Oh, Gabe, I asked my mom and she said I can go to the Christmas dance."
He smiled hesitantly, still testing the waters. "Good, I'm glad that you can go."
He didn't mention anything about yesterday, and neither did I. He knew.
My alarm clock rang too early on Sunday morning. I nearly slapped the snooze button before remembering why I was supposed to get up early...Gabe's altar boy debut! Splashing cold water on my face in the bathroom sink helped a little, and I dressed quickly. Mom and Nan usually slept a little late on Sundays, so I left a note on the table and slipped quietly out the front door. I'd made sure that everything was ready at Sacristy duty the day before and hoped that Gabe would get through his first mass alright. He would probably be looking around from the altar to see if I'd kept my promise to attend. I decided to stop at the sacristy and poke my head in to wish him good luck. I didn't think that Father O'Conner would have a problem with that. The weather had turned cold in earnest now, even though the official first day of winter was a couple of weeks away. The handle to the oversized wooden door that led into the sacristy was so cold that I thought my skin would stick to it. It hurt to turn it so slowly. I tiptoed in and saw Father helping Gabe with his altar vestments. He slowly smoothed out the wrinkles with his hand, all the way down Gabe's back and front. It made me strangely uncomfortable. The hair on the back of my neck rose when it registered in my brain that his hand was lingering on Gabe's body. I couldn't see Gabe's face, but his posture was rigid, as if he were a statue. For a moment I couldn't move, afraid that if I made a sound, one or both of them would turn and see me. I shrank back from the door, easing it shut as slowly and quietly as I could.
My mind reeled as I started to shake, and I was on the verge of throwing up as I leaned against the side of the building. What had I seen? I vacillated back and forth, unsure of what it meant. I had to trust the barometer of my neck hairs. My head continued to spin as I forced myself to calm down, to think rationally. If I was just being paranoid, I reasoned, Gabe would act totally normal at Mass. Although afraid of what I would find, I was determined to attend. I sat way in the back, off to the side. Like Gabe had predicted, there weren't many people at the eight o'clock mass, but there were enough for me to sit behind and observe his behavior. Everyone stood as Gabe and Father O'Conner emerged from the sacristy onto the altar. I looked anxiously at Gabe's face, trying to detect any weirdness from my distant seat. He looked okay, but I thought his mouth looked tight and pinched.
As mass progressed, Gabe made several mistakes, but recovered after being prompted. When Father stood at the lectern to deliver his sermon, he introduced Gabe to the congregation and let everyone know he was a new altar boy -- as if they didn't already know that from his missteps. When Gabe finally stared out into the pews, it was an unfocused look. I wondered if I was reading too much into his every movement and expression. Maybe he was just embarrassed by the mistakes he'd made. I couldn't decide whether to tell him that I'd been at Mass when he asked me about it at school the next day. Would he even ask? As soon as the sermon was over, Father and Gabe turned away from the congregation, and I slipped out of the pew and out the door. I ran the entire way home.
CHAPTER TEN -- Watchful
As I entered the classroom the next day, my insides felt hollow, not knowing what to expect. Thinking Gabe was just later than usual, I took my seat and waited. When the tardy bell rang, the realization hit me that he was not coming to school. I sat through the morning classes like a zombie, which did not escape Anita's eye.
"What's up, Kate? You look like you ate something rotten for breakfast," she commented.
"I don't know. I just don't feel right," I said, the truth and a lie escaping at the same time.
'Missing Prince Charming this morning?" she teased, as she tilted her head toward his empty desk.
I flinched at her light-handed remark, but struggled to keep my expression under control.
"I guess he's sick or something. There's a lot of stuff going around since the weather turned colder," I offered hopefully.
"Well, I'll ask Michael at recess," she announced matter-of-factly.
At least it might clear up the shocking suspicion that had hung over me most of the weekend. After lunch, Anita walked up to Michael, who leaned against the perimeter fence of the school yard, his face unreadable.
"Hey, Michael, where's Gabe today?" she called.
"He's sick....came home from mass yesterday and said he was catching something," he mused.
"Well, hope he gets over it soon. Tell him we said 'hi'." She walked back to where I was standing. "Yeah, you're right. He's sick."
I wanted to say that I was too, but I still clung to the hope that he really was sick, and not absent because of what I thought I'd witnessed. That was the only thing that got me through the day....and the next three.
On Friday, I was relieved to see Gabe back at his desk. This certainly wasn't something that I could ask him about in casual conversation. For now, feigned ignorance would be best, I decided.
"Hey, welcome back! Feeling better?" He turned to look at me and managed a small smile, which didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah, pretty much." His gaze returned to the front of the room.
I wanted to put my arms around him, to comfort him. We said no more that morning.
The next two weeks passed slowly. Gabe gradually returned to normal, but was still a little reserved. He rejoined our lunch table. The Christmas dance was days away, and I began to wonder if he planned to bail on me.
"Can I walk home with you today?" His voice was flat.
"Sure, we haven't done that in awhile." I thought his mouth tightened at that, but he didn't say anything more. My friends quickly split off as we exited the school building at dismissal. Gabe and I walked together quietly. The silence was exasperating.
Finally, he turned to me and began an explanation of sorts.
"I'm sorry that I've been so out of it lately. Some things have been going on that have kind of distracted me."
This was the opening that I had both waited for and feared.
"What kind of things?" I asked nervously.
"It's just family stuff... nothing very interesting, really."
"You know, you've never told me anything about your family, except for Michael being your brother, of course."
He paused for a moment, considering his words carefully.
"Well, I mean, what do you want to know? I live with my mom and Michael. There's just the three of us."
"What's your mom like?" I wondered.
"She's okay. She works in real estate. Most people seem to like her."
"You're kind of lucky, having a brother. I don't have a brother or a sister. It must be nice," I said.
"It's good most of the time. I mean, Michael knows a lot more, being two years older, so it's nice to be able to ask him things that I wouldn't want to ask my mom. But sometimes it sucks. We're pretty different, and people constantly compare us. They expect me to be like him, and I'm not. And he's good at so many things. It just gets to me sometimes."
"So, what kinds of things are going on? The family stuff you mentioned?" I hated pushing him like this, but I wanted to see if this was just a smoke screen.
"It's hard to explain. Let's just say that sometimes we both want the same thing, and I'm tired of stepping aside to let him have...uh, I'd rather not talk about this, if you don't mind." He stared at me with a determined expression.
I felt like I was walking through a minefield, but I had to ask him about Mass to see how he reacted.
"You know, you never told me about your first Mass last week. How did you do?" He stopped walking and his face blanched. His gaze shifted abruptly away from my face.
"I didn't like it, so I quit," he said in a clipped tone.
"I don't understand, Gabe. You were so excited about it. I was there, you know, to see it, and I thought you did fine. What didn't you like?"
He twisted his neck sharply to look at me again. "You were there?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes, I told you I was going to come since it was your first time." He huffed at my choice of words and his face colored.
"Look, I don't want to talk about it. I'd just rather do other things with my time, okay?" The finality in his voice meant it was a closed subject, for now anyway.
Obviously something had happened, and it was enough to scare the heck out of him. I switched the subject to try to calm him down.
"You mentioned awhile back that you live in Waverly. Do you mind me asking where?"
"It's near there, on Greenway. Maybe one day we'll walk home that way, but it would be kind of long for you."
"I'd like that," I encouraged.
He gave a tentative smile, pleased that I wanted to know more about him.
"Are we still on for the dance this Friday?" he asked.
"Definitely, but my grandmother has to drive us to and from school. That's my mom's one condition," I grumbled.
"Sure, that's good. What time should I be at your house?"
"Don't worry about that, Gabe. It's easier if we just pick you up on the way." Now I had an excuse to see his house.
"Okay, let me know what time and I'll be ready," he added.
CHAPTER ELEVEN -- Beginnings
I felt that things were back as close to normal as they could be for now. And since I needed something to wear to the dance, Nan and I went shopping for a dress. Normally, I would have worn jeans and a nice top, but there were only two dances at school that were dress situations: the Christmas dance and the eighth grade graduation dance. Mom and Nan had veto power over anything too grownup but with my changing body, I'd look like a freak bursting at the seams if I dressed in most of the stuff on the racks that was 'age appropriate', as mom liked to say.
"Well, what did you have in mind for the dance?" Nan asked, with her head cocked slightly.
"I know it's not a real date, Nan, but I want something kind of special. Something that looks really good on me," I replied hopefully.
"Then let's go see what they have," she said lightly.
Encouraged, I searched through the racks and pulled out a couple of dresses that looked promising. I could tell Nan was withholding judgment until I tried them on. She knew enough about me to sit in the dressing room aisle chair while I tried on the possibilities. After about ten minutes, I heard her getting restless.
"When are you going to let me see one of them on you?" she wondered.
"As soon as I find one that I like!"
"Fair enough," she sighed.
There were two dresses left to try on, and I was sweating with frustration. Aggravated, I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and slipped into the next one in line. The emerald green fabric fell around my body in a soft caress, doing extraordinary things for my new curves.
"Okay, Nan, are you ready?"
"Let's see it," she sang out.
I stepped out from behind the dressing room door and wasn't prepared for her reaction. Her eyes widened with surprise at first, and then a sort of wistful look came over her face. We stood there just looking at each other silently, my face expectant, pleading.
Softly, almost in a whisper, she said, "Oh, Kate, you look so beautiful, so grownup."
The words rushed out. "Please, I'll do anything around the house that you want me to. I have to have this dress. I've never asked you or mom for anything like this before. Can we please get this one?" I was ready to sign up for lifetime servitude.
"Maybe, if we get a little jacket or wrap, it would be okay."
Anything worn over this dress would be a waste, but I knew I had to compromise to get it. And whatever I wore over it could easily be taken off at the dance, I plotted.
"Thank you! Thank you, Nan, you're the best!" I hopped gleefully, clapping my hands like a little kid, which was totally out of character in that dress.
Friday finally arrived and school was over. Nerves zinging, I gulped down the food on my plate at dinner, while mom readied her arsenal of warnings.
"Now, Kate, remember to be safe at the dance. Be careful not to dance too closely to any boys, and stay inside the school building."
I guessed that I would have to get used to this routine, and tried unsuccessfully to keep the sarcasm in check.
"I know, mom. Nothing's going to happen. It's just a dance. I promise not elope with anyone."
She didn't like my tone of voice and pursed her lips together. Nan gave me a warning glance. "Kate, you know what your mom means. Just act responsibly and have a good time."
"I'm sorry, mom. Just don't get all worried. Everything will be fine."
I went back upstairs and decided that I would leave my reddish-brown hair down, with just a loose curl at the ends. After brushing my teeth three times, I put my dress on, applied a bit of lip gloss and stepped into my shoes. I even remembered to grab the wrap to drape over my shoulders for mom's benefit.
"Okay, Nan, I'm ready to go," I called.
Both of them stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling at me, as I descended.
"You look lovely, Kate."
"Thanks! See you later." I kissed mom, gave her a hug and was on my way.
Nan and I drove quietly to Gabe's house. She seemed lost in thought, probably thinking back to her glory days. We turned onto Greenway and I realized that we weren't really in Waverly. It was Guilford, just at the outskirts of Waverly, but a world apart as neighborhoods go. The houses here were large, gardens and lawns lush. No one who lived here was poor for sure. Gabe was standing just outside his front door, and waved when he saw our car approach. He smiled shyly, just like he used to. I introduced him to Nan as he got into the car, and they exchanged pleasantries. We kept glancing sideways at each other, not really talking much.
At the school gym, we watched the car drive off before Gabe took my hand.
"You look really nice, Kate."
"Thanks. You do too, Gabe."
The music pulsed through the doors as we entered. I started to remove the wrap, and Gabe raised his hands to help. I realized that he'd never seen me out of my school uniform. My face flushed a bright pink, like his, and we moved toward the darkened dance floor. The gym was crowded, and nearly every seventh and eighth grader was there, with or without a date. Gabe and I danced to a couple of upbeat songs until I started to perspire.
"Want to get a drink?" He shouted over the music. I nodded and we threaded our way through the still-dancing bodies.
"Hey, Michael, can we get two cokes?"
I jerked my head up to see Gabe's brother working the concession stand. What kind of sense did it make that he wouldn't have come with a date?
"Sure, coming up, little brother."
Gabe frowned at his remark, took the drinks and handed one to me.
"Thanks, Gabe," I smiled and included Michael with a glance. Michael stopped pouring drinks and stood there looking at me like I was someone other than myself. The dance floor lights charged his eyes in a way that scared me with their intensity. I forced myself to look away from him, and saw Gabe's eyes darting back and forth between my face and Michael's. Gabe tugged at my hand.
"Want to go dance?" he offered.
"Sure," I replied, following him back to the floor. Thank goodness it was a slow number. At least I wouldn't have to look at him with the guilt written all over my face. Other than his friendly hug when we'd shared lunch on the church steps, and some minor hand-holding, I'd never been held by any boy, so I was absolutely unprepared for the body contact that a slow dance naturally entailed. Gabe's arm clumsily encircled my waist as he drew me closer, bringing his cheek to rest against mine. He shivered briefly.
"I'm hoping not to step on your feet," he teased.
Relaxing, I answered, "Don't be silly. You're better at this than I am."
He chuckled, placing his lips close against my ear, and whispered, "You really do look great."
"Thanks, Gabe. You look pretty nice yourself."
If he'd been upset by my reaction to his brother at the soda stand, he kept it to himself. I was certainly a rank amateur at interpreting the alien behavior of boys, but it felt like he was staking his claim in response now. The music changed into a faster number, but Gabe kept his arm around me and his face against mine. Everyone else had broken away to dance apart, and I was wondering how I was going to make the change without hurting his feelings. Suddenly, Father O'Conner materialized out of the dark. He tapped Gabe's shoulder and intoned, "Break it up."
Gabe startled and nearly jumped out of his skin. He stepped back and stared past me into the dark. I glanced with embarrassment at Father, who was pointedly looking straight at me. It was uncomfortable, and gave me goose bumps. I excused myself to seek the refuge of the girls' bathroom.
Dousing a paper towel with cold water, I held it to my face and closed my eyes. Did Gabe's reaction to O'Conner have anything to do with whatever happened weeks ago, or was he just embarrassed by our too-close dancing and being caught by a priest? My brain throbbed on overload. Several older girls came into the bathroom, laughing over whatever. One of them eyed my towel-to-face posture.
"Hey, kid, are you alright? If you're sick, I can call one of the sisters," she offered.
"No, thanks, I'm fine. It's just a little hot out there." I went back into the gym, where Gabe was waiting. He took my hand as we walked silently back to the dance floor. The evening was nearly over when I looked up to see Michael tap Gabe's shoulder.
"Hey, Gabe, since I didn't bring a date, would you mind if I had one dance with Kate?"
Gabe grimaced and responded reluctantly, "Yeah, I guess so, but only if Kate wants to."
I was fooling myself if I thought I was agreeing to this just to be nice. I gave Gabe's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sure, why not?" I said.
Gabe hesitated for just a moment and then headed toward the boys' bathroom. Since I was all of 5'4", the top of my head barely reached Michael's shoulder. He held out his hand and waited for me to take it. I felt myself being gently cradled against his chest while we danced slowly and silently. If he'd moved his hand even an inch further down my back, I would have passed out. Inhaling his clean scent, my eyes closed, hoping that I was dead and enjoying my eternal reward. What a horrible person I was, dancing with my date's older brother and not wanting it to end. As the music began to wind down, he curled his hand under my chin to lift it toward his face. He didn't utter a word, staring into my lovesick eyes with that breathtaking smile of his. Was there anything more ridiculous than an almost twelve year old girl melting into a puddle over a fourteen year old boy? The song ended, and he stepped back.
"I'd better give you back to Gabe and head off to World War III at home tonight," he chuckled. He guided me toward the back of the gym where Gabe waited impatiently.
Winter slowly released its grip, and with it went the sameness of that year's school days. The eighth graders were busy filling out applications to be tested and interviewed for spots at the various Catholic high schools in the area. Some had opted for public school, so they were spared the ordeal. Gabe had mentioned earlier that Michael wanted to go to Saint Ignatius, an expensive all-boys high school out in the county. At the lunch table, all of us argued about where we would go to high school if we were in the eighth grade. I longed to go to St. Mary's Prep, which was a sister school to, and located near, St. Ignatius. Like St. Ig's, it was very expensive. I knew my family wouldn't have the kind of money it would cost to go there. I'd probably have to go to Catholic Girls' Institute which was downtown, in the opposite direction both physically and economically. My heart hurt at the thought of no longer seeing Michael around our school, but the distance might be a good thing. Gabe and I liked each other a lot -- maybe him a little more than me - and there were a lot less pleasant ways to finish out elementary school. I left out all the details of Michael when I recounted the events of the Christmas dance to Anita, Ellen and Missy. They still worshiped him from afar, while my heart thrilled when passing him in the hall, reveling in his smiles. I was definitely going to Hell, but in the meantime, I had as big a crush as a young girl could, with someone other than my boyfriend. Even worse, that someone was his brother.
CHAPTER TWELVE -- Mortality Check
During January that year, Baltimore was hit with one of the worst snowstorms in its history. School was closed for three days. We were still young and dumb enough to celebrate weather-related school closings, not realizing that we would have to make them up at the end of the year. My girlfriends came over to my house the second morning and literally dragged me out to go sledding. The longest and best sled ride of all was due to the layout of our neighborhood. Each row of houses had an alley, behind and parallel to it. There were about five or six rows of side streets that descended down to a main boulevard. My house was on the top row. The alley behind my house had a horizontal leg that cut between my row of houses, crossed my street, cut between the next row, and so on down all the alleys and streets. It was steep, fast, and dangerous. If there were any cars, their drivers would never see a sled in time to stop, especially on a snowy street. We usually posted a look-out who would holler up the alley when the street was clear, but since the streets were still snow-covered, there was little traffic to worry about. And the great thing about wooden sleds with steel runners was that you could actually steer them.
Ellen and I had sleds, so we had to double up for the four of us to ride all at once. We'd been at it for hours and were exhausted, as the trek back up the hill after a ride was like going skiing without a ski lift. The older boys on our street played a much more dangerous game, waiting for cars at the stop sign, and then grabbing onto the back bumper. When the car started moving forward, the boys would crouch down with only their feet touching the ground, so that the car would pull them along on the snow. No one worried about what could happen, because we were all invincible.
Near the end of the day, as we trudged back up the alley, I wanted to take one more run before going inside. The others didn't want to, but agreed to wait for me. I took a running start and flopped onto the sled. The snow had packed down pretty well from the day's runs, and the more packed it was, the faster you went. As I got near the bottom of the alley, about to cross the street, I saw a car approaching. If I'd had time to think, I would've just let myself roll off the sled onto the ground. But I panicked and dragged my toes to slow down. There wasn't enough time to effect a course change. The man driving the car hit his brakes, but his car kept sliding on the snow pack. I thudded into the side of his front tire. He and his wife jumped out of the car, as I still lay on my sled, dazed. Anita, Ellen and Missy ran down the alley, yelling my name. The driver wanted to walk me to my house, but I declined. I knew if my mom found out, I would be in trouble. It was the last time I ever did the multiple alley run on a sled.
My friends and I walked home together, sobered by what I'd narrowly avoided. When we reached my house and parted ways, my feet and hands were so numbed by the cold that they actually hurt, but when I entered the back door, the warmth enveloped me. Nan had already pulled a chair up to the front of our old stove and opened the oven door. She had a wooden cutting board slanted across it so that I could sit in the chair and put my feet on the board in the oven. There was a blanket waiting across the back of the chair and a mug of hot chocolate with my name on it.
After I'd warmed up and eaten dinner with mom and Nan, the phone rang. It was Gabe. His voice sounded really weird and hoarse, so I knew something had to be wrong.
"Kate, there's been an accident. John Wheatley's dead."
John was an eighth grader in Michael's class. I was stunned. He was the first person I ever knew who'd died, and he was only 14.
"What? How? What do you mean?" I gasped.
"He was hitching on the back of a car in Homeland, and hit his head."
I was silent for a moment, not able to wrap my mind around this.
"I can't believe.....does Michael know?"
"Yeah. He's in his room. After we found out, he asked us to leave him alone for awhile."
"I don't know what to say, or what to do."
"His funeral is supposed to be on Saturday morning at eleven. And I think most of Holy Sacrament will be at Rudd's Funeral Home Friday night. His family will be there from seven until nine that evening. I'd offer to go with you, but I probably should stick with Michael because he's taking it pretty hard."
"No, stay with him Gabe. I'll call Anita, Ellen and Missy and go with them. I just can't believe this," I said quietly. "Please tell Michael that I'm so sorry."
"Okay, I'd better go. I just wanted to let you know."
"Bye, Gabe." I hung the phone up and sat there for a moment. Mom saw the odd look on my face and asked what was wrong. I told her I couldn't talk about it until I called my friends to let them know.
I called Anita first and we agreed to go to the funeral home together on Friday. After I hung up, I wondered why I wasn't crying. Someone I knew had died, and all I could think about was why I'd been spared and he hadn't. It was just words so far and didn't seem real. When we finally went back to school on Thursday, John Wheatley was the sole topic of subdued conversation. The eighth grade classes had been suspended and they spent the day sequestered in the church, as the priests and some church counselors met with them. Classes were held on Friday, but we just did review work. No one would have retained anything, as we all were distracted by the prospect of going to a funeral home that evening. I'd never been to a funeral, and was completely unprepared for what it would be like.
My grandmother took us to Rudd's that evening. There was a huge crowd inside, but I'd never seen so many people making so little noise. Kids that I knew from school sat outside on the front steps, crying noiselessly. As we got out of the car, Ellen grabbed my arm.
"Will you stay next to me when we go inside? I don't know if I can do this," she said in a frightened voice.
"Do what? I've never been to one of these. What're we supposed to do?" I asked tensely. Ellen was the only one of the four of us who'd ever been to a funeral.
"Well, I don't know for sure if the casket will be open, but we're supposed to go up to it and kneel next to it to say a prayer for him. Then we're supposed to tell his family that we're sorry for their loss," she explained.
"Ellen, what do you mean... his casket? Are you saying that John Wheatley's in there? We have to kneel right next to him? What if his mother is crying and stuff?"
I don't know what I'd expected, but it hadn't included seeing the dead body of someone who'd been walking around school the week before.
She looked at me like I was from another planet. "Kate, what did you think people come to a funeral home for? It's to say goodbye to the person who died and tell his family how sorry you are about it."
"But why do we have to say goodbye to him? He can't hear us now," I asked, growing more concerned.
"Look, just hold my arm and do what I do. Don't ask me to explain why, it's just what people do," she said weakly.
The four of us walked cautiously into the outer hall. There were several rooms and each one had a little sign with the person's name on it in removable letters. When I saw the one with John's name on it, you could hardly get through the door because of the crowd. Most of them had faces wet with tears. I could hear sobs closer to the front of the room where John's body was. Ellen took us over to this big book where we were supposed to sign our names. The crying was getting louder and I took a big gulp of air, holding my breath as we moved closer to the front of the room. There was no mistaking who John's parents were. They both were dressed nicely, but looked like they hadn't slept in days. His father stood stoically next to the casket, greeting family members and friends. His mother cried, her hand caressing John's head, as if she were afraid that each touch would be her last chance. The perimeter of the room was filled with pictures and memorabilia of John, happy and smiling. It was in stark contrast to the unsmiling body that lay motionless in its satin-lined, wooden bed.
Older people kept saying how good he looked. I didn't understand why they thought that, as his face was frozen in an odd expression with makeup all over it, trying to make him look like he was still alive. Ellen steered us over to his parents and we copied whatever she did. When we knelt in front of John's body, I couldn't look at him. As soon as we rose and turned away, I saw Michael standing nearby. His face was still streaked with tear trails, and I walked over to tell him how sorry I was. He bent forward and wrapped his arms around me in a hug that lasted way longer than I expected. His cheek touched mine and I felt his lips move against my ear.
"Thank you, Kate."
When he released me, my face was slightly flushed and my cheek damp from his tears. Gabe was out in the hallway, and I was glad he hadn't seen that.
Once we'd done all the things that Ellen said we were supposed to do, we went outside to wait for Nan. I felt exhausted and went to bed as soon as I got home. Ellen's mother drove us to the funeral mass the next morning. We sat in the church pew with Gabe, waiting for it to begin. Ellen pointed to the vestibule where Mr. and Mrs. Wheatley were leaning over the casket, apparently saying their last physical goodbye to their son. His mother kissed his forehead and sobbed. My stomach lurched as I heard the soft thud of the casket close with finality. The organ music started, and I was surprised to see that Michael was one of the pallbearers. Gabe said that John's parents wanted one boy to represent his class, and Michael was probably the only eighth grade boy big enough to help carry the heavy container up and down the church steps. At least Michael wasn't crying, but his face looked immeasurably sad. When I got back home, I didn't feel invincible any more.
With the resiliency of youth, we recovered from the loss of John Wheatley as the season of new life and renewal approached. Another annual HSS tradition came around that spring, and our class had to dye Easter eggs and make little construction paper Easter baskets for the first graders' annual egg hunt in the recess yard. The four of us girls were responsible for dying a dozen eggs each. Since we had no idea how long it took to hard boil an egg, we left that part to our mothers, and then colored the eggs at home. That meant we had to carry them to school, which was a journey fraught with peril for the eggs. Anita and I had listened to our moms and placed the eggs in their original cartons for protection on their trip. Ellen and Missy had not. They stuffed newspaper in a sack for cushioning and carried them gingerly.
Occasionally on our daily trek to school, we would pass some high school girls who were headed in the opposite direction to the public school a few blocks away. One of those girls was singularly unattractive, and always wore a horrible orchid shade of lipstick. Her glasses were studded with tiny rhinestones across the top, and the oddest thing about her was that she thought she looked really hot. It was obvious from her swagger and tilted chin. Usually we made faces and laughed silently after she and her friends had passed us.
So today, of all days, we saw them coming down the alley. The girl with the orchid lipstick was tall and intimidating, as she was at least 4 years older. As she passed by, we started our usual routine, until we saw that her skirt was bunched up so high in the back that you could see her underpants. Anita saw it first and pointed frantically, still not making a sound. When Missy turned and saw it, she doubled over with laughter. The girl turned sharply and quickly walked over to Missy.
"What're you laughing at, kid?" she said threateningly.
Even though she was scared, Missy was having a hard time controlling her face.
"Nothing," she replied, clutching her bag of eggs and stepping back as the girl continued to advance.
"I'll show you something funny," she sneered, knocking Missy's books out of her arms.
Using the only weapon available, Missy swung her bag of eggs at orchid lips. There was a moment of exquisite justice as Missy swung the bag again and the sodden paper gave way, showering her attacker with a raw egg mixture. Mrs. Koppisch had apparently forgotten to hard boil Missy's eggs. The girl became enraged as Missy dropped the bag and ran. At that point, the rest of us started running too. They didn't chase us very far, but we kept running until we couldn't see them anymore.
By the time we got to school, several of Ellen's eggs had cracked from the wild sprint, and the rest were covered in black newsprint. The convent housekeeper had to quickly boil and color enough eggs to make up the difference. That was the afternoon we decided to change our route to school.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN -- Go Team
The rest of the school year went by quickly and since we were too young for summer jobs, the four of us signed up for the HSS Catholic Youth Organization's softball team. None of us had ever played before, but since our numbers were needed to complete a team roster, we made the team. The coach was the father of one of the eighth graders. We didn't know that the assistant coach was going to be Father O'Conner. We were finally free for the summer, and although we had no way of knowing at the time, it would be the last summer free from boy-girl relationship drama.
We had a week of disorganized practice after school before summer break at a field that was only one block from Gabe's house. Coach Johnson had to be a pretty patient man, because we were not just ignorant of the rules of the game; in fact, none of us knew how to catch or hit the ball. The entire week was spent practicing those two basic skills. I made Gabe promise not to come to our practices that week, as it would have been way too embarrassing. I hated it when Fr. O'Conner came to practice, as he would stand too close behind me, ostensibly to teach me how to swing the bat. When we could finally hit the ball occasionally, the worst girls were banished to the outfield. I wound up alternating between first base and pitching. My specialty became hitting, probably because I kept my eye on the ball and wasn't afraid to swing hard. Most games came down to how many home runs I could hit. Coach Johnson was so tickled that he used to pay me twenty-five cents for every homer, as long as I didn't tell anybody.
Fortunately, most of the other CYO teams sucked as badly as we did. Our coach was hoping that we would continue to play for the following two years and become more of a league threat. I let Gabe come to our first game, which was against St. Brigette's. Our outfielders were nearly useless as they would trip and fall over backwards whenever they attempted to catch the occasional fly ball. I was getting a workout at first base due to the erratic arms of my teammates. I could see Gabe in the bleachers trying not to laugh at the ridiculous postures that we adopted when throwing the ball. But he stopped laughing when I hit a total of five home runs during the game, and we managed to outlast St. Brigette's by a score of 12-9. I made $1.25 for my morning's work.
The news of our initial victory and my ability to actually make contact with the ball had travelled. At our next game, there were a few more spectator-parents, and Gabe dragged Michael to come watch. Our next opponent was the Sts. Philip and James team, which was stronger because it had older, more experienced girls. Coach told us that they would be hard to beat and that we should just concentrate on playing our best. The other team actually knew how to work together as a unit, and constantly communicated with each other. It was the first time I'd been up against a team that heckled and yelled at me when I settled into the batter's box. I just thought they were being mean, and turned my head to look questioningly at our coach.
That was my first mistake, as their pitcher delivered the ball across the plate while I was looking at coach. It was called a strike, and as a result, the other team's players all started laughing and hooting at my inattention. I was embarrassed, but then I got angry at their practiced abuse and settled down to business. Our first two girls had walked, so there were two on base. I watched the next two pitches carefully and didn't swing. They were balls. Their pitcher didn't like that I could apparently gauge the difference between a ball or a strike. Gabe and Michael clapped and cheered their support. She threw a good pitch that I learned later was called a 'sinker'. I swung at it and missed. The count was 2 and 2. The next pitch was low, but still in the strike zone, which was my favorite kind to hit, as I could get under it and swing on an upward curve so that it would go high into the outfield. And it did.
Both of my teammates and I reached home, so we were scoring well, but we couldn't quite overcome their experience level, and wound up with a 9-9 tie game. Sometime during the last inning, Father O'Conner had arrived to catch the end of the game. I was too busy to see him, and when we were gathered around our post game drinks, he walked over to congratulate us. Excited over how well we'd played, he grabbed me in a bear hug, lifting me off the ground. I didn't like how it felt. He stood around talking to all of us, but his hand kept coming around my waist whenever he expressed some sort of praise for things I'd done during the game. It was entirely too familiar, and after whatever had happened with Gabe, I definitely didn't want him touching me. I walked over to the trash can, threw my cup away and headed over to the bleacher seats. I felt more protected with Michael there. He apparently knew nothing of the incident with Gabe, so his face didn't react to my internal discomfort. Actually, he smiled and drilled my heart with those eyes of his until I had to look away. Gabe's face struggled to control his expression.
"Congratulations on being accepted at St. Ignatius, Michael! What're you going to do with yourself this summer?" I asked.
"Thanks. I'm working as a counselor for the day campers at St. Vincent's for the first session. Then I'll work the overnight camping programs for the rest of the summer until school starts."
My stomach tightened at the thought of Michael basically being gone forever from my everyday world in just a few weeks. I wouldn't feel as safe at the ball games once he left, but for the rest of our short season, I noted that Gabe was at every game, whether I asked him to come or not.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN -- Camping in Hell
Shortly before the end of our softball season, Ellen started to talk up her Girl Scout Troop's summer camping trip. Both Ellen and Missy belonged to the HSS affiliated troop. Anita and I had dropped out two years ago, as we weren't as interested in it as our friends. Every summer, the troop went on a week-long outing in the mountains of western Maryland. The older scouts like Ellen and Missy were allowed to bring a friend, as a way to try to get more girls to join, so they asked Anita and me to go. I wasn't too sure about it, because other than sleeping in a tent in my backyard with friends, I'd never been camping before, particularly for such an extended period and so far from home. But Ellen and Missy kept begging, saying how much fun it would be if all four of us went, and Anita said anything was better than being bored at home for a week. I hoped that my mom would balk when I asked about going, but she was enthusiastic.
Ellen gave us a copy of the packing recommendations and we readied ourselves for the trip. Gabe was disappointed when I told him I was going to be away the whole week. Now that Michael had left for his camp counselor's job, he acted lost. For all the rivalry between them, he obviously missed his older brother very much. I felt sorry for him and invited him to come over to my house on Saturday, the day before we were to leave for the mountains.
When Saturday arrived, my bags were already packed and piled in the hallway for departure. I was sitting on the front porch under the big green awning, reading one of the books on my summer required reading list when Gabe walked up the steps.
"Hi, Gabe! I'm glad you decided to come over. Want something to drink?" I asked.
"Yeah, thanks, that would be great. It's good that you have that awning over your porch, because it's getting really hot. This is probably a good time to be going to the mountains where it'll be cooler."
I went inside for a moment to retrieve two drinks and some of Nan's lemon cookies. When I came back out onto the porch, Gabe had pulled the cushioned chair as close as possible to the chaise lounge where I'd left my book. He turned it over to look at the title.
"'The Body War'.....that's a strange name for a book. What's it about?"
I started to tell him and then wished he hadn't seen it.
"It's really good. It's about a girl who likes two boys who are brothers.....well, it started out good, but it's pretty unrealistic. I mean, that kind of stuff doesn't happen."
I hoped he'd buy my sudden about-face. The book was fascinating to me as I knew it was entirely possible. He didn't comment, and just put the book back down on the chaise, shifting his gaze to the street. I had to think of something to distract him from whatever he was mulling over in silence.
"So what are you going to do with yourself while all of us are gone?"
"I'll probably try to read as many of the books on our list as I can so that I don't get caught in a marathon at the end of the summer," he admitted.
Shoot, I'd forgotten that he had the same reading list and would have to read that book too. He wasn't going to like it, and it was going to make him paranoid. In an unusual move, he reached over and took my hand.
"And I'm going to miss you a lot, Kate."
I shifted in my seat in response, unaccustomed to this type of personal declaration. His ice-blue eyes held mine, and then glanced quickly at the windows, checking for mom or Nan before he leaned over and kissed me. I froze, not expecting it. It was as beautifully pure and chaste as a first kiss could be, and I felt a shiver during the brief time that he pressed his lips against mine. It was the first contact we had since dancing at Christmas, seven months ago. A major shift had just taken place in our relationship.
We sat on the porch silently for a few minutes, nibbling our cookies, until he broke the spell.
"So what do you do for a week at scout camp?"
"I'm not totally sure. The food will be horrible except for the s'mores, and we'll probably have to make some dumb nature crafts. Maybe we'll get to go swimming in the lake. There'd better not be any bugs. That's all I'm saying."
He bent over laughing and choking on his cookie.
"What's so funny?" I demanded.
"Kate, you're going camping in the woods, so what makes you think that there won't be any bugs?" He looked at me in disbelief.
"Well, I'm sure they'll spray the places where we'll be. They'd better, because I'll leave if anything crawls on me," I said with finality.
He shook his head, knowing that it would be useless to try to educate me on the realities of camping right then. "Well, I'd better be on my way since I'm walking. I hope you have a good trip with your girlfriends."
We both stood up, still holding hands. He looked like he was debating whether to kiss me again, but decided not to press his luck.
"Thanks for coming over, Gabe. I'll call you when I get back," I promised.
"I'll be waiting to hear from you."
He squeezed my hand gently and went down the steps with a wave. Turning, I went inside and ran up the stairs to my room. After closing my door, I jumped around my room.
The next morning, our moms dropped us off in front of Holy Sacrament church, which was the assembly point before departure to western Maryland. Mom helped me unpack all my stuff from the trunk and then hugged me.
"Have lots of fun with your friends, honey. And make sure you don't have any food in your pockets when you go to bed. You don't want any visits from the bears now."
My mind was reeling as she drove away. Nobody had said anything about bears. She had to be mistaken. There weren't bears in scout camp. Surely they had a fence or something.
Anita, Ellen, Missy and I pushed our stuff together on the ground in front of the rectory and waited for the leaders to sort out who was riding with whom. A familiar voice startled me.
"Hi, girls, ready for your camping trip? Kate, I haven't seen you at the scout meetings before."
It was O'Conner. I shouldn't have been surprised, as he must have seen us gathering there right outside his window.
"I'm going as a guest," I replied curtly.
I stayed seated on my bags, not wanting to give him any chance to touch me. The scout leader came around and called out names and drivers. I was relieved that all four of us would be riding together in one of the big vans. Everyone stood up and started moving toward their assigned vehicle. I followed reluctantly, trying to keep someone between me and him. As we picked up our bags to load them into the back, he started helping. When we had everything stowed, it was time to get in and take our seats. The vans were high off the ground and had a bar to grasp and heave yourself up inside. He stood there and took each girl by the elbow to help them get in. I was the last one, and instead of taking my elbow, he put both of his hands around my waist to help lift me up. And when I'd cleared the step, one of his hands rested briefly against my butt, like he was steadying me. I scrambled into the van and flopped into my seat, turning my face away as pins and needles radiated through me. There was no defense against his touching, as he always made sure that it looked innocent on the surface. Nausea threatened to sabotage our departure, but I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to calm myself. As usual, no one had noticed anything unusual, and we were on our way.
It was a three hour drive to the camp, and I was uncharacteristically silent amidst my friends' carefree chatter. Anita finally turned to me and said, "Why are you being all quiet?"
"I'm just kind of tired," I lied. "Did I tell you that Gabe came over yesterday to say goodbye? He doesn't know what to do with himself now that Michael's gone."
"Kate, you know he didn't come over just because Michael's not home. He's obviously got a thing for you," Anita remarked.
I was debating whether to tell her what happened on my porch yesterday.
"Can you keep your voice down?" I whispered.
If I was going to tell her, I didn't want the driver to hear us. "Actually, you might be right. Do you know what he did before he went home? He...kissed me!"
Anita's eyes widened and her mouth formed a little 'o' in surprise. "Really? Well, I should say what took him so long," she giggled softly. "What was it like?"
"It was...nice. He caught me by surprise, but I guess I liked it," I whispered.
Ellen and Missy leaned over the back of our seat and chimed in, "You guess you liked what?"
Anita cupped her hand and whispered the answer into their ears. A chorus of "Oh, my gosh!" and "You're kidding!" roared back.
"SSShhhh! Be quiet! It's not like I'm broadcasting it on the radio or something," I pleaded. So for the next ten minutes, I had to go over all the details of what it was like to be kissed by a boy. After about an hour, Missy fell asleep in her seat, and the rest of us weren't far behind.
The jostling of the van woke us all up, as it turned off of the highway onto the dirt access road to the camp. We pulled into a parking lot to unload. Luckily there was a tractor with a trailer to pile our stuff into. The leader gathered us around her and explained that there was a one mile hike into the campsite. That didn't really faze us, since we walked back and forth to school every day. But about halfway there, the skies opened up and a heavy rain soaked us since our rain gear was on the trailer that was already waiting for us at the campsite. When we finally got there, wet and miserable, I looked at the sleeping arrangements with disbelief. There were raised wooden platforms with big tents over them. Inside were 9 cots, and each one had a wooden box on the floor for our stuff. And way at the other end of the site was a wooden outhouse. I looked at Ellen and Missy, aghast.
"You have to be joking. We're sleeping in cots in big tents? And we have to use an outhouse? This is so gross!" They started laughing at me.
"What were you expecting, a hotel in the woods?" Missy giggled.
"I don't know what I expected, but I thought there would at least be toilets that flushed. And we have to walk all the way over there in the dark if we have to go at night?" I whined.
Anita wasn't too crazy about the set up either, but I knew she was looking forward to this only because of my reaction. We checked the lists and saw that at least we were all in the same tent. After unpacking, we assembled in an area surrounded by log seats. The leader went over a bunch of rules and then started in on how to avoid being bear food. I was becoming more uncomfortable by the moment. Then she talked about checking our sleeping bags for spiders and such before getting in them. I was sweating by now, despite the chilly air. We each had duties that would rotate daily. The sweeping, cooking and cleaning I could deal with, but I was horrified to see that we had to take turns cleaning the outhouse.
Dinner consisted of hot dogs, beans and canned fruit, and I was relieved that I only had to help wash the dishes. I was looking forward to a hot shower before I saw what it looked like. There was a faucet head sticking out of the side of the leader's cabin, surrounded by a canvas shower curtain that curved around in a small circle. I wasn't dirty enough to endure that yet. We sat around a campfire, singing goofy songs until it was time for bed. The noise from the bugs in the woods was deafening. Everyone brushed their teeth and turned on their flashlights for the trek to the outhouse. It was a contest to see if you could finish going to the bathroom before you used up all your oxygen from holding your breath.
We checked our sleeping bags and crawled into them while the lantern was still lit at the front of the big tent. Surprisingly it didn't take long to fall asleep after the day's exertions. I dreamed a replay of Gabe's kiss and then of what it would be like to kiss Michael.
The best part of the whole week was swimming at the lake. The water was cold, but it was fun. We even learned how to paddle a canoe, after capsizing about five times. Although we didn't see any bears, I was still petrified of the outhouse. When I used it during the day, I could see the big spiders in their webs in the corners of the roof's underside. And the smell only got worse as the week went on, no matter how much lye they poured into it. I went behind a tree as many times as I thought I could without getting caught, but at night it was way too scary to do that. The thought that those spiders might come down from their webs was more than I could endure, so most mornings I had to sprint for the outhouse before I exploded from holding it all night.
Finally, the week was over, and I was very glad to be going home. I was rank, as I'd refused to use the makeshift shower. My hair was filthy, and I looked like I'd been raised by wolves by the time we climbed into the van to go home. When they dropped us off at HSS, I was thankful that O'Conner wasn't outside. If he had been, I doubted that even he would've touched me. As soon as I got home, I headed for the bath.
Dirty and exhausted, I filled the tub up and lay on my back, immersing myself. With my ears underwater, the utter silence was like a drug and my eyes closed involuntarily. Thankfully, mom was tuned in to me that day. When she didn't hear any sound from the bathroom, she called my name up the stairwell. I'd fallen asleep, and only part of my face was still above the water. She panicked, ran upstairs and began beating on the locked bathroom door. When she started screaming and kicking the door, I awoke with a start, gasping and pulling myself into a sitting position.
"I'm okay, mom," I called loudly.
She was still totally freaked, so I had to grab a towel and unlock the door to let her in. She burst into the room and grabbed me, hugging me desperately.
"Kate, what happened? I couldn't hear anything and you didn't answer me. You fell asleep, didn't you?"
She started to cry. How embarrassing would that have been? Babies drown in tubs, not almost teenagers! We sat on the edge of the tub, hugging each other.
"Don't ever do that to me again," she said anxiously.
"I'm sorry that I scared you, mom. Guess I was a lot more tired than I thought."
When she left the room, I drained the tub and took a shower.
Once I was clean, I pulled on a tee shirt and pajama bottoms, and decided to call Gabe like I'd promised. I smiled to myself as he answered before the first ring had even completed. He must have been waiting.
"Hi, Gabe, it's Kate. I'm back."
"Good! It's been so boring here with you gone. How was it?"
"You don't really want to know," I assured him.
"Sure I do!" he protested.
Well, why don't you come over tomorrow and I'll tell you all...well, some of it, anyway. Come on over around noon if you can, and we'll eat lunch in the back yard.
"Okay, thanks. I'd like that. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Sure."
I spent the remainder of the day reading the story about the girl and the two brothers, wondering how Michael was doing at camp. He would be a good counselor, I knew. People were just drawn to him with his good looks and easy disposition. A natural athlete, he was very good at teaching little kids how to play almost any sport. I was going to miss him very much at HSS, and school was starting again in just a couple weeks. It made me feel guilty to think about him, when Gabe so obviously liked me. I fell asleep, and it wasn't Gabe that I dreamed of.
When the doorbell rang the next day, Gabe looked happy to see me. Nan made us a couple of sandwiches and some lemonade, which we took out into the yard. It wasn't anything I'd planned ahead, but I decided on the spot to ask Gabe what he thought I should do about Father O'Conner. He might freak out, but if anyone would understand how I felt, it would be him. Besides, it might make him feel less alone about whatever had happened to him. I waited until we'd eaten, and then sat in the tree swing, anxious over how I was going to open this Pandora's Box. Gabe still sat on the ground next to the swing.
"Gabe, I'm not sure who to talk to about this. I haven't told anyone else. Do you think I'm being weird, or does it seem to you that Father O'Conner acts oddly, with too much touching and stuff?"
His face looked stunned, like I'd slapped him. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. He kept looking at the ground and pulled at the grass. I waited, giving him time to find the words he was searching for. When he spoke, his voice was strained.
"You're not being weird. Stay away from him, Kate."
"I've tried. He just keeps showing up wherever I am, and it's starting to scare me. He gives me the creeps."
He looked straight at me. "Just don't ever let him get you alone. He's not a normal priest."
I didn't ask him anything more about it that day, and switched our conversation to the tale of the camping trip.
When autumn and seventh grade arrived, we were considered upperclassmen at Holy Sacrament. As such, we were considered hormonally dangerous, and the boys were separated into a different class from the girls. I did miss having Gabe sit next to me, but it was kind of nice to have just girls in class. The rivalries and distractions that had threatened to create serious rifts had dissolved. The classroom atmosphere was definitely more relaxed.
Anita joined me in Sacristy duty, and we both tried out for the CYO basketball team, but didn't make it through the final cut. I missed seeing Michael around school, but felt honestly relieved that the tension I felt when I was with him and Gabe had dissipated. Gabe had become a part of our previously all-girl group at lunch. The five of us enjoyed each other's company enormously, without the possessiveness that had briefly flared over last year's Christmas dance. It was an idyllic time that would not be repeated.
Seventh grade brought a striking array of oddly morphing hairstyles. Everyone wanted to look more grown up. Some of the girls cut their long hair. Of those, a few who had petite facial features looked much better and older in a shag, but for others, it was a disaster that took the rest of the year to rectify. This was one mistake that I wouldn't make twice. From the time I'd been in kindergarten, my mom had a thing for long hair. She kept the ends trimmed, but let my hair grow until it was halfway down my back. She twisted it up into a high ponytail during the hot summers. There was a girl in my neighborhood named Margaret, whom I played with occasionally if Missy, Ellen, or Anita weren't home. Margaret had short, aggressively curly hair. There were lots of reasons why I thought she was odd. One was her penchant for drinking vanilla extract from her mom's kitchen cabinet.
On one particular day, she suggested that we play hairdresser. As the customer, I sat in the pretend salon chair and she draped an old tablecloth over my shoulders. What I didn't see was that she had a pair of real scissors in her hand which she proceeded to use to cut off my hair at the middle of my neck. Although I could have cared less, my mom had a stroke when I came home with my new hairdo. She immediately took me across the street to the lady who ran an illegal salon in her basement where I emerged with my first bobbed cut. It had taken until seventh grade to completely restore the length, so I wasn't about to try any renovations in that department.
Anita's stroke of genius that year was noticing that as soon as school let out, the eighth grade girls' uniforms became markedly shorter than they'd been during class. We spent part of the next afternoon learning how to hike up the skirt portion of our one-piece uniform over the belt at our waists. It had to be just right or the uneven hem looked ridiculous. I could always count on Anita to be ahead of the curve in trying to look and act older. Some people didn't like her because she could be so wild at times, but she was my absolute best friend.
She had a big-time crush on a Baltimore Orioles pitcher and begged me to go with her to the stadium before a practice session to get autographs from the players. When I arrived at her house to go with her, she had her jacket on, but it wasn't zipped in the front. As soon as we got to the outside of the stadium, she whipped her jacket off and I saw why she had been unable to close the zipper. She'd stuffed her bra with toilet paper so that her bust was unbelievably out of proportion to the rest of her body. I wasn't very kind and told her she looked stupid.
"Watch this," she retorted.
And doggone if every player that approached the entrance didn't stop to give his autograph to her while she looked at me smugly. It was classic Anita.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN -- Anatomy Lessons
If seventh grade had a dominant theme, it would have been the 'year of the body' for lots of reasons. The obvious one was that girls in our class seemed to go home flat-chested and reappear the next day with distinctly rounded contours. Whenever we sat at assembly in the gym, boys and girls got the rare chance to sit wherever they wanted. The boys loved to play 'Robin Hood', pulling the bra-wearing girl's back strap and letting it zing like a bow and arrow. A couple of boys developed voices that couldn't be depended on to stay in the same vocal range, cracking completely at random.
Our seventh grade girls' teacher, Sister Felicitas, started giving us assignments that entailed trips to the local library, since our school didn't have one. These trips were supposed to familiarize us with the intricacies of the Dewey Decimal System. We'd look things up on the little index cards that were kept in long boxes in wooden cases. After copying the appropriate numbers down from the card, we wandered through the bookcases and shelves, looking for the book that the card identified.
Usually Anita and I would go together on these forays. She would look up half the cards and I would do the other half so we would finish this most boring task more quickly. Our most infamous trip came one afternoon after school when our subjects were the different body systems. Every system was there except for the reproductive system. It was a glaring omission, so, of course, Anita and I had to go look it up. We bypassed the female system and went straight for the male equivalent. It would have been much more appropriate to call it the Book of Revelations. We learned more that day about the workings of the mysterious male than we really wanted to know. The illustrations were an eye-opener, and Anita had to refer to her brother Lee for examples. I was certain that I would never be able to look at Lee again with a straight face.
The librarian noticed our muffled hysterics and kept frowning at us. We were about five minutes away from being thrown out of the library. Anita read about some research team called Masters and Johnson that actually studied stuff about sex. She was determined to find their book. After she found the catalogue card and copied down the number, we walked past the rows of bookcases, looking for the right series of numbers. Anita was in front of me, holding the number. Suddenly, she backed up rapidly.
"What are you doing?" I whispered in an appropriate library voice.
She reached back and grabbed my arm without turning around, raising the card to her lips. "Check out the guy in this row. He's been watching us at the catalogue drawer. And whatever you do, DON'T make any noise. Just walk."
Clueless, I followed as she retraced her forward motion. A man with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head -- inside the library -- was exposing himself, just for us. Of course, it surprised and shocked me, but not quite as badly as the first incident. My stomach still felt queasy, but I had already seen one of 'those things', as Ellen called it. This one didn't look any different. We walked straight for the door of the library, and Anita collapsed into laughter once we got to the sidewalk. I laughed half-heartedly because I didn't want Anita to know how uncomfortable it had made me feel.
It was becoming increasingly disturbing to me how many perverted men seemed to be all around us that year. I guessed that twelve and thirteen year old girls were irresistibly safe targets, and I saw more of this part of the male anatomy in one year than in any other year preceding adulthood.
In yet another incident, I was in my kitchen on the phone with Gabe when a man came to our back door. It was a warm Indian summer evening, so our heavy wooden inner door was propped open, and an outer screened door let the air in but kept the bugs out. He stood at the back door and, distracted by my conversation with Gabe, I walked to the door to see who it was and what he wanted. To this day, I still can't believe how totally naïve and unsuspicious I'd been, so much so that I thought he had a little puppy in his hands.
I actually walked to the door and asked, "Can I help you?" before I realized it was no puppy he was petting. It was purely an act of providence that at the same instant, our front door opened as mom and Nan entered with grocery bags, causing him to flee. Anita never let me forget "puppy night", as she christened it.
During this very strange year, there had been one particular situation that had nearly disastrous consequences for me. Most Saturdays during the winter, my girlfriends and I went ice skating at the nearby stadium rink. It was a few blocks from our neighborhood, within walking distance. Order was maintained by guards...the 'skate police' as we called them. They wore jeans and red fleece jackets. A whistle hung on a string around each guy's neck. They took turns skating around the rink to keep everyone moving. Due to the large amount of time they spent skating, they were all very good, almost professional in the way they flew around the ice. It seemed like it was a job prerequisite to be handsome, like lifeguards.
My friends and I would flirt, to try to catch their attention. Most of them ignored us or were safely polite. Only one actually seemed to watch us, leaning against the rink railing to talk when we stopped to rest. He was darkly Italian, short and the name 'Sonny' was stitched on his jacket. I'd planned to skate with Missy and Ellen that afternoon, but at the last minute they both had to cancel. With nothing else to do, I decided to go alone. After renting skates, I made my way shakily around the rink, convincing myself that I looked impressive because I didn't fall as much as the other kids. Sonny was rink guard that day and performed his usual charming act, but he must have noticed that I was without my friends that afternoon. Exiting the rink, I intended to get a drink before calling it quits. I was really tired, and it was getting dark as was normal on late winter afternoons. Sonny was waiting, and fell in line next to me as I walked toward the refreshment counter.
"What would you like to drink?" he asked.
His direct question startled me into a knee-jerk response. "Uh, coke."
The guards didn't have to pay for food or drinks, and I was glad to not have to part with any of my paltry allowance.
He handed the soda to me and asked, "So where are your friends today?"
"Oh, they had to cancel at the last minute."
He made some small talk and I was flattered by the attention of a twenty-year-old-male.
"How are you getting home?" he asked, glancing at the sky. It had begun to snow heavily.
"I have to walk.....just a few blocks....not that far."
"You know, it's getting really cold and the snow is coming down like crazy. You should let me give you a lift."
I wasn't entirely comfortable with this, but like a lot of young girls, I tried to act older than I was. And the temperature was plummeting quickly.
"Thanks. That would be great."
My stomach was tight and I felt a little leery as I got into his car. I should have listened to my instincts. As I directed him toward my street, he pulled the car to the curb about halfway home.
My face registered alarm and he laughed, "Don't have a heart attack. My radiator needs to be replaced and I have to stop every couple of blocks to keep the engine from overheating."
I knew nothing about cars, so his explanation seemed reasonable. He turned on the radio, presumably to pass a couple of minutes before restarting the car. I smiled hesitantly and stared awkwardly out the passenger side window at the snow, which was quickly covering the front and back windshields. It was coming down in big puffy pieces, and made the interior of the car as dark as night.
Without warning, he grabbed the back of my neck and began forcing my face down toward his lap where he had unzipped his jeans. Adrenaline shot through my body as I used every bit of strength I had, to extricate myself from his iron grip. Panicked, I angled my feet on the floor so that I could pull back far enough sideways to reach the handle of the passenger door. He laughed darkly as I pushed the door open and fell onto the slick sidewalk, scrambling to get away. As I ran toward home, he simply started the engine and drove off. It added another scar to my psyche, but providence had interceded once again during that strange year.
Later in life, I thought that these occurrences had a lot to do with the attraction that Gabe held for me. He was shy, tentative and unsure of himself. Because he was so young, his features were femininely pretty, and his short stature made him non-threatening. He was totally different from his brother Michael, who should have scared the bejesus out of me. His tall, older, darkly handsome looks were exactly what made him so thrilling.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN -- The Fair
Unlike the year before, our group attended the Christmas dance at school as a unit. Although Gabe was included in the group, it wasn't like a date. The five of us danced in a circle like his personal harem. We went to movies en masse without worrying about being paired up with a date. We sledded and hurled snowballs at each other with as much abandon as first graders. It seemed we were unconsciously wringing out every bit of sweetness before the storms that were surely coming. Every one of us had the singular goal of becoming an eighth grader. I rarely went anywhere alone, usually sticking with Gabe and my friends. My multiple experiences of male exposure that year had made me wary of being alone with any boy, even one as innocent as Gabe. I craved the comfort and safety of our group.
In the spring, our school unleashed a new requirement for passing into the eighth grade. Each of us was expected to hold a 'Fresh Air Fair' in our yard to raise money so the parish could send poor children to a week of camp in the summertime. The church had put together a kit that included signs and boxes of candy to sell. Our parents were supposed to supply the cups and drinks. Any of the candy that wasn't sold could be returned to the church, but we had to account for each piece with the appropriate amount of money collected. The biggest mistake that the church made was not setting some sort of minimum that had to be raised by each student to satisfy the requirement. We were appalled at the indignity of having to hawk candy. Our parents didn't have enough money to send us to camp, so why should we have to raise money for some other kid to go? We were such mini-Republicans then, reflections of our parents.
Several days of our walks to and from school were consumed with figuring out how to complete the assignment with the least effort. Anita came up with the solution, following the letter but not the spirit of the requirement. We scheduled all of our fairs on the same day and time, setting out signs in places where most people wouldn't notice them. Our row houses had small backyards with a concrete alley running across the back that was just big enough for a car to drive through. Across the alley were our back lots, unusually large, and great for family gatherings, parties, crab feasts or just about anything. We had already picked up our fair kits the day before with the permission slips which we had forged with our parents' signatures.
Pulling together the two picnic tables on my back lot, we set out the boxes of candy. Our drinks for sale were Dixie cups, stolen from our family bathrooms, with plain water in them. Anita brought a radio and some folding chairs. We sat listening to music with our feet propped on the picnic table, and bought candy for ourselves with our allowance money. We didn't charge ourselves for the water. Other than a couple of little kids from the block who discovered us by accident, we sold virtually nothing to anyone but ourselves. At the end of the fair, we pooled the profits and split them four ways, with a penny difference so they wouldn't be the same. We were now officially the top dogs at Holy Sacrament -- eighth graders.
The school principal, Sr. Berlinda, taught the girls for eighth grade and Sr. Earle still taught the boys. From the very first day of that last year at HSS, our high school choices dominated our conversations. We had to consider where our parents wanted us to go, where they could afford to send us, where our friends were going, and so on. Our parents were focused on academics while we were giving the social scenes our priority. Tuitions were ravaging family budgets, and many of my classmates would be going to public high school as a result. Every weekend brought a new application to complete and submit. Who knew where we would be accepted, even after we made our initial choices?
"So, let's go around the table and everybody list their top choices," Anita suggested at lunch one day.
Missy and Ellen had Seton at the top of their lists, while Anita and I chose Catholic Girls' Institute. I secretly wanted St. Mary's Prep, but there was no way my family could afford it.
"I'm applying to Calvert Hill," Gabe announced.
Anita and I glanced at each other, our eyebrows raised in shock.
"Why Calvert Hill? I thought you would go to St. Ignatius like Michael," I gasped.
Gabe grimaced.
"Michael is why I'm NOT going to St. Ignatius. I don't want to have every teacher compare me with him."
My mind flashed back to the budding rivalry between them at the long-ago Christmas dance. It was strange that it would rear its head after all the time that had passed.
Missy and Ellen chimed in with, "I hear that!" They both had older sisters, so apparently this was not an unusual way to feel for those with siblings.
My relationship with Gabe began to mature in our final year at HSS. Since we didn't get to spend time together in the classroom, he was a regular fixture in our group activities. The annual Calvert Hill-St. Ignatius Thanksgiving football game was coming up. I hadn't attended the game before, as it was a high school age and older function, unless someone in your family attended one of those schools. When he decided to go to Calvert Hill, Gabe became instantly interested in the contest.
"Kate, would you go to the football classic with me next week at the stadium?" he asked me on the way home one day.
"That might be fun. What side would we sit on, I mean, with Michael going to St. Ignatius and all?" I asked naively.
"Calvert Hill's side, of course! I mean, that's where I will be going next year, so why would we sit anywhere else?"
His answer made sense, and I didn't know why I thought anything different.
"Okay, I'd like to go."
"I'll swing by and pick you up at ten o'clock Thanksgiving morning, then?" he confirmed.
The changes in Gabe since Michael had graduated were remarkable. He was out from under his impressive older brother's shadow, and it made him more confident. And although he'd always look strikingly different from Michael, he'd become much more attractive in his own right. Our relationship was the ripe result of a long-standing deep friendship.
As we walked to the football game, he held my hand firmly in his. It made me smile that he used every touchdown during the game as an opportunity to hug me. It was pleasant, but I still felt like it meant more to him than it did to me. I was ashamed that while we were at the game, my eyes searched to see if his brother was somewhere on the other side.
This year's Christmas dance didn't involve any subterfuge. Nearly everyone in my class was attending, with or without a date, but I chafed at what I perceived to be the continued close supervision that my mother required. Nan drove us to and from the dance again.
Gabe was much more confident in the way he held me when we danced, and his voice sank into a deeper bass as he whispered in my ear. I could count on one hand the number of times we'd kissed. Father O'Conner continued to watch us like a hawk, but Gabe had learned long ago not to step over the line and call attention to us.
Late winter brought prospective high school testing and interviews. All of us anxiously waited to see what fate would choose for us. The announcements finally arrived in the mail and everyone got their first choice.
Anita and I still performed sacristy duties. I was careful to always stay with her. The last thing I was going to do was be alone in that setting. O'Conner always seemed to find a reason to be around when we were there. Near the end of the year, Anita got a little crazy. We'd been in the church for about an hour and were nearly finished. All that was left to do was polish the marble railing. Since graduation was close, everyone had short-timers disease. I saw Anita look around, checking to see if anyone was sitting in the church pews.
Satisfied that they were safely empty, she said, "Watch this."
I looked at her quizzically, having no idea what she was going to do. It was scandalously sacrilegious, but in pure Anita fashion, she leaned over and did a headstand on the altar....with a skirt on. If I hadn't been so shocked, I would have laughed, but then I saw Sr. Earle in the doorway. She had seen everything. That was the end of sacristy duty for both of us.
The remainder of the school year seemed anti-climactic. It was painful for our group to separate, but we were anxious to be done with elementary school; each of us ready to throw ourselves into the teen world of high school. There was very little studying during the last few weeks of school. Two significant events were held for departing eighth graders: the class boat trip to Tolchester Beach and the graduation dance. Every girl in my class had purchased a new bathing suit for the coed trip to Tolchester. A few more girls had matured physically and were anxious to show off their mini-curves. By now, I was feeling a little more comfortable in my own skin, but a bathing suit notched up the stress for everyone.
The day of the trip was perfect weather, warm and sunny. The entire class climbed onto the chartered bus, talking, laughing and cutting up with radios cranked on high. There were no nuns to chaperone as their habits would be unbearable in the heat at the beach. Fr. O'Conner was in charge of supervision and had recruited a couple of local seminarians to assist. They sat on the bench seat across the back of the bus for an unobstructed view of the controlled chaos. Of course, that meant that Gabe and I sat with our friends as close to the front of the bus as possible. We wanted to be as far away from them as we could. Gabe braved the group of girls so that he could sit next to me. His sunny smile was as big as I'd ever seen it. Everyone was in celebration mode, singing along at full volume to the infectious beat of our favorite songs.
As soon as we reached the harbor, we transferred from the bus to the boat, which became a floating party. It actually had a dance floor onboard. Even the seminarians were tapping their feet to the thudding bass. After about an hour, our destination came into view, causing groups of students to break away from the dance floor and rush excitedly to the railings to watch the approaching dock. Nearly everyone had worn their bathing suit underneath their clothing to avoid having to change in front of classmates in the bath house. We lugged beach bags, blankets and lunch bags to stake out our spots in the sand. The boys ran wildly into the water, splashing and shoving, while the girls busied themselves with setting out blankets and applying sun lotion. One poor boy named Jimmy Garner had been struggling with a Styrofoam cooler when a group of boys knocked him over. He fell onto the cooler which promptly broke into a million pieces.
Gabe ran up to the blanket I was sitting on and shook droplets of water from his hair onto me with a grin.
"Agghh....cut it out....that's cold!" I squealed.
"Come on in! It's not bad after you get wet," he coaxed.
"I will, I will. Just give me a few minutes to get hot enough so the water won't feel quite so cold," I begged.
He threw himself down next to me on the blanket to wait, rolling over onto his stomach to match my position. We turned our heads to face one another, and the breeze blew our hair so that the strands danced against each other. He stared into my eyes silently, holding them captive. For once I didn't blush. If we'd been anywhere else, without the chaperones, I would've reached out and touched his face. After a few motionless minutes, he rose to a kneeling position and grabbed my hand, tugging me up to follow. We walked slowly down to the water, tuning out the noise around us. Once we'd gone into the water up to our waists, he twined his fingers through mine underwater.
"Are the priests watching us?" I whispered, as I thought I felt adult eyes on my back.
"Probably. Can you hold your breath underwater?" he asked with a sly grin.
"A little, I think."
"Then take a big breath, and let's go under together."
We both gulped in a mouthful of air and went under the surface. I opened my eyes as he pulled me toward him, and saw the sunbeams shatter into prisms on the watery ceiling above us. His hands held my cheeks as he exhaled his air and kissed me full on my lips. I closed my eyes, holding my breath as long as I could. Our heads broke the surface when we could no longer tolerate the oxygen deprivation. We knelt on the sea floor so that everything below our necks was underwater, invisible to the priests. Gabe's arms encircled my waist lightly.
"What'll happen to us next year, Kate?"
He scanned the beach quickly for the eyes of authority and, finding none, placed his hands on my shoulders. His lips touched mine tentatively and then more forcefully, with an undertone of desperation. His hands returned to my waist as he pulled me closer until we pressed against each other. I kissed him back willingly, my heart accelerating in a rush. A shrill whistle blew from the shore and I pushed back from him. Fr. O'Conner stood at the edge of the water, scowling and blowing, waving us in. Anita and several others giggled into their beach towels at our public display. We reluctantly walked back toward the beach, anticipating the flak we'd receive.
"If I see anything even remotely close to that again, you will both sit out separately for the rest of the day," he growled as we stepped out of the water.
Gabe nodded, but with an oddly defiant look while I stared at my feet. I knew O'Conner was examining me visually, and it made me wish that I had a towel to cover myself. As we sat back down on my blanket, Gabe turned to me.
"I'm not sorry I did that," he promised.
"Neither am I."
We spent the rest of the day with our friends, heeding O'Conner's warning. We gossiped about snotty Sharon Simbel, who suddenly displayed an impossibly big chest, until we saw the telltale white tissues dissolve as they floated to the water's surface. It was a good day.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -- The Rectory
Graduation was now only a few days away, and the nuns seemed as tired of teaching as we were of learning. Movies dominated the curriculum once exams were done, and the graduation dance preparations were in full swing. Anita and I helped along with everyone else in our class. Missy and Ellen insisted on hanging glittered stars on strings suspended from the ceiling. Even some dads volunteered to construct booths that would display stuff to try to keep us connected to church-sponsored activities after graduation.
"Kate, I need to see you for a moment, please."
Twisting around from the step stool I was perched on to hang the streamers, I turned to face Fr. O'Conner, who stood impossibly close. What could he want now? After the beach trip, it wouldn't be anything good, I expected. He led me over to the side of the gym and stopped, wearing a stern countenance.
"There are some things I need to discuss with you before graduation," he said quietly. "Can you come to the rectory this evening around seven o'clock?"
"Uh, I guess, as long as my mom is okay with that," I answered cautiously.
"Good. I'll see you then." He turned and walked out of the gym, while I stood wondering what this was about. The older I got, the more he scared me. Anita watched and waited until he'd gone.
"What was that all about?" she said in a low voice.
"I don't really know. He probably wants to 'counsel' me after the PDA at Tolchester," I shrugged.
"Lucky you," she grimaced.
At dinner, I told mom and Nan about the meeting. Mom naively thought it was some transition to high school talk. It didn't get dark until nearly nine o'clock that time of year, so I walked to the rectory. The housekeeper, Mrs. Angelos, answered the door. She had her raincoat over her arm, ready to leave.
"Oh, you're here, Kate. Come on in. I'll show you into Father's study before I go."
She opened the door into a small room. I'd never been inside the rectory before, so it was an unfamiliar layout that made me feel off balance.
"Just have a seat dear, and I'll go let Father know you're here. Can I get you anything before I go?" she asked with a friendly smile.
"Oh, no thanks, I'm fine."
She left the door to the study open and I heard the front door close behind her as she left. It was dead quiet now as I waited. There were no footsteps, yet he suddenly appeared in the doorway and closed the door behind him.
"Hello, Kate. I'm glad you could come this evening."
I felt a drop of perspiration trickle down the center of my back.
"There is something I want to talk to you about before you leave us." He was utterly serious, unsmiling, with small beads of sweat on his forehead.
"I'm not sure what would be the best way to approach this, but I'm concerned about the direction you seem to be taking."
What was he talking about?
"You're very physically mature for an eighth grade young lady, and I can't help but notice that you and Gabriel Kelsey seem very attracted to each other, perhaps for longer than I realized."
Oh God no, not the birds and bees talk from a priest. I felt myself stiffen in the chair as blood flooded my face.
"And after what I saw at the beach this past week, I want you to tell me how far this has gone."
Did he think we were having sex?? Even if we had, which we certainly hadn't, did he think I would tell him? We'd only kissed a couple of times. What was wrong with him? I didn't think my face could get any redder than it already was, and I felt myself getting totally ticked. This was SO none of his business. My chin jutted out in defiance.
"Father, there's nothing serious going on between Gabe and me." My voice was flat and amazingly controlled, considering the anger that was building.
"Don't you understand that he's not right for you, Kate? You can do so much better than that boy."
That was it. I wasn't doing this. As I rose from the chair and opened my mouth to reply, he stood up at the same time, grabbing and pulling me toward him. My body froze and panic exploded through me, creating a total shutdown. When he buried his face in the side of my neck, my instincts finally kicked in. I pushed against his arms to try to extricate myself, but my thirteen-year-old strength was no match for his adult power. He kept one arm wrapped around me while the other slid down my back and lifted me so that my feet cleared the floor. Now I had no leverage, and he pushed my body against the wall of the study, crushing himself against me. My mouth was devoid of spit and my yell turned into a dry croak. But I did manage to free one leg from against the wall and began to kick with it, furiously.
"GET OFF! Let....me....GO," I yelled.
His arms suddenly fell to his sides and he turned away with his back to me. I flew at the study door and flung it open, trying desperately to remember which way led to the front door. Finding it, running, I burst through to the front steps, almost falling, because I could barely see through the tears that filled my eyes. And the knowledge exploded with certainty that what I'd seen in the sacristy had been true.
When I couldn't run any further, I slowed to a stop and sank to the curb to catch my breath. I fought back a wave of nausea that surged in my throat. There was no way to wrap my young mind around what had just happened, or what could have happened. For now, silence would be how I dealt with this. There were only two more days of school, and then I would be away from him. I worked on calming myself enough to present a normal face and voice when I got home, just long enough to get in the door and up the stairs.
"Kate, is that you?" mom's voice rang out as I closed the front door.
"Yes.......g'night.....I'm going upstairs."
So far, so good. Then Nan came out of the kitchen, smiling. I smiled back tentatively, watching her smile fade as she tilted her head. The wheels were turning in her mind, and she knew something wasn't quite right.
"Are you alright, Kate?"
"Yeah, Nan, I'm just really tired from decorating the gym all day. I'm going to bed."
Knowing that the longer I stood there, the more she would probe, I grabbed the wooden balustrade, swinging around to the steps and escaping to my room.
I went through the motions, sleepwalking through the last two days of school. My friends mistook my behavior for melancholy over our impending separation from HSS. Gabe was watchful and stayed close, shadowing my activities quietly. He broke his silence on the last day.
"Are we still on for the graduation dance?"
"Oh, yeah," I answered, refocusing on the present.
"You've been so quiet the last couple of days that I wasn't sure. Do you want to talk?"
I wasn't going to respond to that right now. It wasn't something that I cared to discuss with anyone. Graduation was nearly here and my inexperienced mind pretended that I would just walk away from this place and never think about it again.
"Gabe, do you think we could walk to the dance instead of having my grandmother drive us there?"
"Sure, I'd like to do that. What time should I come by?"
"Is seven-thirty okay?" I asked tonelessly.
His eyes searched my face, looking for a clue to my morose behavior.
"Perfect. See you then."
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN -- Graduation
Mom and Nan swirled around, taking photographs of me and my classmates in our caps and gowns. The ceremony had been relatively brief, with the usual speeches and diploma conferment. Our tossed caps flurried in the air, and then our families descended upon us in raucous celebration. We hugged our friends and cried at the changes that were upon us. Smaller groups broke off to continue their festivities at various local restaurants. Both mom and Nan had put money aside for weeks to pay for the dinner and the white dress I would be wearing to the dance later that evening.
"Kate, I can't believe your time at Holy Sacrament is finished," mom marveled.
"On to high school! Congratulations, dear!" Nan said warmly.
It was a happy day, and I basked in the love and attention of my family and friends.
As soon as we'd finished our celebratory dinner and returned home, I went upstairs to get ready for the dance. Even though I had over three hours to prepare, this was not a night to rush. A bath, not a shower, was what I wanted. Breaking open the seal, I inhaled the soft scent of the new bottle of my favorite fragrance, washed my hair and then sank into the warm water, closing my eyes to relax. My thoughts wandered lazily over all the changes to come, not seeking solutions, just letting myself wonder what things would be like. Would Gabe and I still be together, going to different schools and not seeing each other nearly as much? No, I wouldn't think about that right now. It would ruin the evening. I let myself drift until the water lost its warmth.
After I'd dried and curled my hair and applied some light makeup, my critical eye approved of the image in the mirror. Soft, shiny auburn waves fell just to my shoulders, setting off the pale glow of the strapless white dress. It was the first time that mom had let me wear a dress with bare shoulders.
The doorbell rang and that meant Gabe was here. I carefully descended the steps as Mom, Nan and Gabe waited below. Mom's eyes were brimming with moisture, and Nan looked so proud. Gabe's face was bright with excitement and he smiled bashfully in approval as I reached the foyer. We said our goodbyes after mom took a couple of pictures, and were on our way.
"You look really good, Gabe," I told him.
He blew out a short puff of breath as he turned toward me. "And you look unbelievable!"
Holding hands, we walked in silence, exchanging smiles periodically. It was hard to stay focused on just enjoying the evening, as a profound sadness threatened to overwhelm me. This time of our lives was coming to an end.
We soon reached the gym, and my mood soared with the spirited music and infectious joy of our friends. The music slowed, and Gabe threaded his arm around my waist, quickly closing the distance between us. His lips pressed softly against my ear as we barely moved, pretending to be dancing. He sighed, and no words were necessary.
The evening passed quickly as we endured the faster songs only as a means of getting to the slow ones. We were both breathing more heavily after the final dance, walking toward the door to wait for our ride home. As we passed beyond the halo of the building lights, Gabe sidestepped into the alley that served as a passageway between the rectory and the school building, pulling me into the darkness.
"Kate," was all he said before he kissed me more boldly than before.
His hands were safely stationary, and I kissed him back. We only had moments before Nan would be there to drive us home. He hesitantly moved his lips to my neck. My heart drummed, until a narrow shaft of dim light opened into the alley and, looking up, I saw the parted curtains of the rectory window.
CHAPTER NINETEEN -- Betrayal
The jarring ring of the telephone made me open my eyes groggily. I'd taken advantage of the first day of summer vacation to sleep late. Nan's voice floated up the stairs to let me know that the phone was for me, so I dragged myself out of bed to answer it. It was Anita, wasting no time.
"Kate! Woo-hoo! How does it feel to be free? Don't tell me you were still sleeping! Let's do something!"
"Geez, give me a few minutes to adjust to being vertical. What do you feel like doing?" I asked.
"It's pretty hot for June, so I say let's grab our bathing suits and go to the pool," she answered decisively.
"Okay, but I have to eat breakfast -- or is it lunchtime by now -- before we go."
"How about if I pick you up in an hour?" She was raring to go.
"Okay, bye."
I stuffed a bag with my swim suit, a towel and some other essentials. Mom laughed when she saw my resigned expression.
"And where are you so excited to be off to?"
"Anita wants me to go to the pool with her. I figure I can sleep there as well as here."
"So how does it feel to be officially finished with grade school?" Nan inquired.
"You have no idea. I'm so glad to be out of there, especially...." I had to catch myself, as I almost mentioned Fr. O'Conner. "Well, just everything, Nan."
I inhaled a bowl of cereal before the doorbell rang, announcing Anita's arrival.
"Hi, Mrs. Fitzgerald, Mrs. Callahan!" she said happily, half-dancing inside.
"Ah, Kate's partner in crime," Nan commented knowingly.
"Bye, we'll be back before dinner," I said, closing the front door behind us.
"So, you and Gabe looked like you had a pretty good time last night," she giggled. "I'll bet he wishes that you didn't have to ride home with your grandmother!"
"That's for sure. I think he kissed me more last night that he has the entire time since we started hanging out together!" I smiled.
"So what is he doing this summer?" she asked curiously.
"He's supposed to be working as a bagger at the grocery store part time. And I think he said he's taking some kind of study skills course to help him get organized for high school," I replied.
"What about you?" Anita always wanted to know everything about everybody.
"Well, in about two weeks, we're supposed to go visit some distant cousin of my mom's in Canada. God, we have to drive there in the car, so that'll be super boring."
"How long are you going to be in Canada?" Anita sounded apprehensive at the thought of having to entertain herself.
"For two weeks," I groaned, hopping on the bus that would take us to the pool.
"Aw, man, what am I gonna do, read the whole summer book list while you're gone?" she groused.
"Maybe you can hang out with Gabe. He'll be glad for the company," I suggested.
The bus pulled up to our stop and we were ready for a day of sun and gossip. The Meadows pool was fairly large, surrounded by a grassy area, as well as a concrete dance floor and jukebox next to the bathhouse. We paid, changed and staked our spot. I couldn't believe how crowded the place was already. Anita's brother, Lee, was working there as a lifeguard. We settled down for an afternoon of watching girls sashay up and try to hit on him. He was two years older than Anita and went to St. Ignatius. Anita was his kid sister/pest, and he did his best to avoid her whenever possible. Conversely, Anita was always spying on Lee so that she'd have an arsenal of things that Lee wouldn't want his parents to know. She blackmailed him by threatening to reveal those secrets unless he did occasional favors for her. Since he had his driver's license, he could be very useful. Anita was already a master at negotiation, much to Lee's consternation.
Most of the things I learned about boys were a direct result of being Anita's best friend. It was like having a girlfriend who was 14 but had the mind of an 18 year old. At first, I thought she was full of crap and just showing off, but over the next few years, I came to realize that I could ask Anita almost anything, as well as depend on the veracity of her answers. I could only imagine how much she must've tormented Lee, because she knew more about how a teenage boy's mind worked than anyone I ever met.
We watched a girl who looked to be about our age approach Lee. His face was screwed into his 'lifeguard mask', trying to look older and authoritative. Her gait changed from a normal walk from the time she got up from her beach towel, to a swivel-hipped strut when she got within Lee's sight. She had a bikini on that our moms would never have let us wear at our age. Standing right below him, she began a conversation as he intermittently blew his whistle and barked admonishments to the little kids in the pool. She actually was pretty and might have had a chance with him, except that she was our age. Lee had a horror of being with any girl who wasn't at least in high school. After his series of one-word responses to her attempts, she walked back to her towel and flopped down. Her friend on the towel next to her began mocking her efforts.
"Kate, watch what happens. Lee wouldn't talk to her because everybody was watching. Let's see what he does if she walks past him later. Wanna bet his head's gonna look like it's on a swivel when he checks her out from the rear?" Anita loved to predict male behavior.
"I don't know, Anita. He didn't look like he was interested in her."
"Bet you a soda that he'll check her out. And he'll do it every time she goes by. Just wait and watch."
Not ten minutes passed before the girl got up, ostensibly to go to the concession stand, and walked directly in front of Lee. He stared straight ahead until she went past his chair, and then turned his head to watch her all the way to the stand. God, how could Anita know exactly how he'd act? She glanced at me and held out her hand for payment.
"Okay, but I'm only paying you once. No fair if she goes past a half dozen times and he does the same thing every time." It was the last time I ever bet against Anita.
After we went home I thought Gabe would call, but he didn't. Maybe he was catching up on some stuff at home. For the next few days, I started reading from our required list out of boredom. Mom and Nan were redoing the garden on our back lot and they needed lots of sifted soil, so mom paid me a quarter for every big aluminum tub I filled. Gabe still hadn't called, so I decided to call him. What I hadn't counted on was that his brother Michael would answer the phone.
"Hello, Kelsey residence." His deep voice made my toes curl.
"Um, hi, this is Kate Fitzgerald. Is Gabe there?" I tried desperately to keep my voice calm and even.
"Kate, seriously, is this you? I haven't talked to you since CYO softball....what was that, like two years ago?" He sounded incredulous, and pleased.
"Yeah, it's me. How are you, Michael? How's high school?" Geez, couldn't I think of anything more interesting to say than that?
"It's okay. No more HSS for you, huh? Where are you going to school in the fall?"
"I'm going to Catholic Girls." I was embarrassed to even say it, because I wanted so badly to be going to St. Mary's Prep.
"Good choice. That's an awesome school. Well, Gabe's not here right now. I'll tell him that you called. Maybe I'll see you around sometime this summer. You should have Gabe bring you over to the house."
The whole time I was on the phone with him, my mouth was open as I tried to control my racing pulse. Why I reacted this way when I saw or spoke with Michael was a mystery to me, and there was nothing I could do to change it. Even after not seeing him for nearly two years, it still happened.
"Okay, thanks, Michael. And would you tell him that I'll be leaving to go on vacation with my family soon, so if nobody answers, he'll know why."
"Ah, family vacation....where are you headed to?" As much as I loved to hear his voice, I was sweating because I didn't want to sound like an idiot.
"Um, we're going to Canada....Montreal, actually."
"Now that's a vacation! What possessed your family to go there? Montreal is very cool. I think you'll like it."
"My mom has some cousin who lives there, so we're going to visit her. You've been to Montreal?" Why did it make me happy that I was going somewhere that he'd been?
"I went there on one of my mom's business trips. You should brush up on your French, because they think we're ignorant only speaking one language," he chuckled.
"I'll be alright as long as I don't have to say anything other than 'please', 'thank you', and 'where's the bathroom'." I joked. He laughed out loud at my answer, and I felt ridiculously pleased that I'd made him laugh.
"That sounds like a good start." I could tell from his voice that he was smiling.
"Well, it was good talking to you, Michael."
"Yeah, I'm glad I got to talk to you too. And I'll let Gabe know that he better get it in gear before some French Canadian boy sweeps you off your feet."
My face was getting all hot and I was glad he couldn't see me.
"I doubt that any boy would be interested in me because I asked him where the bathroom was," I said sarcastically. He laughed again and my stomach flipped at the musical sound of it.
"No wonder my brother likes you, Kate. He walks around here smiling for days after you two have been out together." I didn't know how to answer that. "Call anytime Gabe's not home. I like talking to you," he teased.
"You're crazy, Michael." I scoffed, at a loss for words at his last statement.
"Well, seriously, don't be a stranger. Make him bring you over."
"Come to think of it, I've never been to your house. Are you trying to stir up trouble?" Now I was teasing him.
"Hey, I'm not the one trying to keep my girlfriend under wraps."
"Okay, okay, enough. Just tell him I called! Bye, Michael."
"Goodbye, Kate," he said in a mock sing-song voice.
I hung up the phone and sat for a moment, gulping air and blowing it out to calm down.
By the next week when I still hadn't heard from Gabe, I called Anita to ask her what she thought.
"What could possibly be wrong? He came on like gangbusters at the graduation dance and now I haven't heard from him in over a week. And we'll be leaving on vacation in a couple of days. What's going on?" I was getting frustrated.
"Well, all I can say is that either he's just taking you way too much for granted, or....it's possible he's met somebody and is too chicken to tell you," Anita said, thinking out loud. I didn't like either option. "What's the name of that grocery store that he's bagging at?" she asked.
"It's the Superfare in Northwood Shopping Center," I stated.
"Maybe it's time for me to put on my detective hat and take a stroll on over there and find out. And you're not coming. He'll never say anything in front of you," she instructed.
So that afternoon Anita went over to the Superfare to investigate. She could see Gabe working inside through the big front window. The cashier was a young blonde girl, about a year or two older than us. Anita watched as the line of customers slowed, and Gabe leaned against the checkout, talking easily with her. She was cute, and seemed to hang on Gabe's every word, smiling at him.
Anita decided that a bolder approach was needed to see if her suspicions would be confirmed. She walked inside, threw a couple of items in a hand-held basket, and moved to their checkout station. Gabe and the girl talked and flirted back and forth. They were totally unaware of Anita until she cleared her throat in an exaggerated fashion. The girl turned quickly toward Anita with a smile and automatically began to scan the items. Gabe looked up and his mouth dropped open as his face flushed deeply and guiltily.
"Well, Gabe Kelsey, imagine meeting you here!" Anita said sarcastically.
"Uh, hi Anita," he mumbled.
"I'll have to tell Kate I saw you." Then Anita turned toward the girl. "Did Gabe tell you about his girlfriend? She's really nice, my best friend actually. Or maybe I should say she used to be Gabe's girlfriend," she said with an artificially sweet smile, looking directly at him for a response.
Gabe was still red-faced, looking at the floor, and said nothing.
"Oh, and Gabe, you can disregard that message that Kate left last week with your brother. I'm sure she'll have lots to consider while she's in Canada." Then Anita left the items on the counter and brushed past Gabe on her way out the door.
She called me when she returned home and asked me to come over to her house so she could tell me what she found out. Her parents had gone out for the evening, and she'd set a glass out for each of us on the coffee table. It was like having a medical test done - if the results are bad, they'll never tell you on the phone. They make you come in to deliver the news personally. Anita pushed the drink toward me.
"Well, I saw Gabe, and I'm sorry....but I think he hasn't called you because of a girl he works with at the grocery store." She saw my face crumple at the news, and put her arms around me briefly. Then she took both of my hands in hers.
"Do you want my advice?"
First I shook my head back and forth petulantly, but reluctantly changed it to a nod, knowing she would likely be right.
"I know that you like Gabe. You've liked him for close to three years, and he is a cute boy. But you know, you've told me more than once that you were afraid that he liked you more than you liked him. So, let him go. Take the opportunity to let it end. We're starting high school together soon and believe me, there are going to be tons of boys that you're going to like way more than you ever liked Gabe. And it's not going to take long either. I guarantee you he's going to call you....it may be soon or it may be months....but he's going to ask you to go back with him. Don't. If he did this once, he'll do it again. And you can do so much better than Gabe Kelsey."
My mouth twisted at her words. She sounded like Fr. O'Conner had at the rectory. I forced myself to stop the tears. It was entirely possible that his betrayal hurt my pride as much or more than my actual feelings. I knew instinctively that Anita was right, but it didn't make it hurt any less. I nodded in agreement and she gave me a tentative smile as she kissed my cheek. Good or bad, no matter what, Anita was my true friend.
The next day, my family began preparations for our trip to Canada. Nan noticed my morose mood.
"What's wrong, honey? You look so sad. Anything I can help with?"
"There isn't anything to be done, Nan. Gabe and I are kind of going our separate ways, and it hurts, but I'll live." She put her arm around my shoulder and hugged me. I had to give it to Nan, as she knew when to shut up.
We wound up packing a lot of clothing; it could be both warm and cold there. I was in such a funk over my situation with Gabe that I didn't pay that much attention to what I was taking. In retrospect, our trip couldn't have come at a better time for me. It was a distraction which I needed badly. Anita came over to see us off, even though it was at the crack of dawn. She handed me an envelope as I got into the car. I looked at it quizzically.
"Just hold onto it until you're on the road. Have a great time. You never know what can happen unexpectedly, kiddo." She smiled and waved as we pulled away from the curb.
I was ensconced in the back seat with a big pillow, a book, and an English-to-French translation manual. After I got myself reasonably settled, I opened Anita's envelope. There was a letter inside, written in her familiar, distinctive script.
"Kate, I'm sorry about having to be the one to tell you about Gabe, but like I always say, it's better to know than not. I'm allowing you one day to mope on your trip. Then I want to you use the back of this letter to list three boys that you'd like to know better. Keep your eyes out on your trip for some cute Canadians too! When you get back, call me right away, because you know I'll want to hear about everything that happened! Don't forget, Gabe was just a grade school, little kid boyfriend. Now it's time to get ready for some high school guys! Love, Anita."
Her letter made me smile. I opened my book to read for awhile, and after two pages, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, Nan was gently shaking my leg.
"Kate, it's time for something to eat. Wake up, sweetie."
I checked my watch and realized I'd been asleep for three hours. That meant we had nine hours to go. When we slid into our booth at the restaurant, Nan and mom spread out some travel stuff. I finally got a little curious about our destination.
"Mom, where are we going in Montreal anyway?"
"Well, we're going to be just outside of Montreal actually. My cousin Emma and her family live in the Laurentians," she said absently while pouring over the travel material.
"What's the Laurentians?" I asked.
"It's a mountain region with lots of lakes, a beautiful area. I think you'll like it."
"So what's your cousin like? Are we staying at her house?" Not that it mattered that much. I figured this trip was simply a retreat for my wounded heart and pride.
"Emma is a trip. Her husband is a physician and she is a sculptor. They live in this big old cabin with their kids. I think you'll like her."
"Mom, you aren't bringing me to babysit a bunch of little kids while you hang out with your cousin, are you?" I warned.
She laughed at my question. "Hardly! She has three kids: Sarah is eleven, Jacques is fourteen and Etienne is sixteen. But Sarah won't be there, because she's away at some climbing camp."
Oh, great. That meant not one, but two teenage boys to contend with.
"The girl is at climbing camp? What's that?"
"The whole family is very athletic and outdoorsy. Apparently they have camps where the kids learn how to climb the mountains in that area."
Ha, I thought. That's one thing I would definitely NOT be doing -- climbing mountains. I looked at one of the booklets that she had and it was filled with people canoeing, running rapids, skiing, bicycling and tons of other outdoor stuff. So, I probably wouldn't have to worry about the two boys as they'd be busy outdoors.
"Your cousin is a sculptor? What kind of stuff does she make.....pottery?" I was intrigued by this. It was something I'd always wanted to try. Mom looked up from her booklet.
"A sculptor is different from someone who does pottery. She makes pieces - statues and busts - out of clay and stone. A lot of her pieces have sold for quite a bit of money. She's very good. If you're interested, I'm sure she'll be happy to show you."
Now THAT would be something I'd want to see.
After we ate and resumed our ride, I alternately read and dozed for what was the longest leg of our trip, awakening briefly to go through customs at the U.S.-Canadian border. The last hour was spent winding back and forth on roads rising through the lush mountains and cerulean lakes, with small cottages and houses tucked into the mountainside here and there. Around six o'clock in the evening, we pulled into a long dirt driveway after much map consultation. I laughed to myself at what mom had called a cabin. It was huge, with windows looking out into the forest and the mountains. The big double doors opened and Emma and her husband walked out, waving excitedly. The two boys followed slowly, more like they were being forced to come out than of their own will. Mom and Nan sprang out of the car and hugged them. I followed uncertainly, not knowing any of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY -- Oh, Canada
"Emma, this is my daughter Kate. Kate, this is my cousin, Emma St. Germain, her husband, Henri, and her boys, Jacques and Etienne." Mrs. St. Germain startled me by pulling me into a big hug and the two boys smiled at their mom's exuberance. They glanced at each other and then back at me. Both were dark-haired, but the younger one, Jacques, had curly hair that reminded me of Michael's. Both of them started unloading the trunk of our car and taking our suitcases to wherever we would sleep.
Inside, the first floor was completely open, with only the kitchen enclosed by four walls. There were two fireplaces: one in the center of the living area and one in the kitchen. The upper level contained four bedrooms, one of which was for mom and Nan, and I was to stay in the little loft at the very top. I was glad to be off on my own, away from the others. Emma had dinner waiting and we sat around a huge pine table with high-backed bench seats. The fire was welcoming, as even at the end of June, the evening air was chilly. The boys sat across from me, but didn't say anything directly to me during dinner. The adults chattered back and forth, pulling us into the general conversation at times. When the younger boy stared at me, his brother kicked him under the table.
After dinner, mom's cousin told me to call her Emma instead of Mrs. St. Germain. She also told her boys to take me outside and show me around. It was getting dark, and I wasn't sure what they expected me to be able to see. They put their jackets on, so I did too. When we stepped outside, Etienne was the first to speak. His French accent was really cool.
"So, Kate, what do you think of Montreal? Is it very different from where you live....Baltimore, right?"
I stifled a giggle at how he said Baltimore.
"It is VERY different. We live in the city and have to drive pretty far to see mountains. And they're nothing like these mountains, for sure. How do you guys get to school around here? It must be pretty hard to get a school bus up these hills."
Jacques burst out laughing, and Etienne smacked the back of his brother's head while smiling apologetically at me.
"We go to boarding school except during the summer. It's about two hours from here. Our dad is busy at the hospital and mom travels for her art exhibitions," he explained.
"Gee, you must miss your folks being away like that so much," I exclaimed.
"It's not so bad. We've always gone to boarding school, so it seems normal to us."
We walked away from the house, down a trail.
"Where are we going?" I was not entirely comfortable walking in the dark with two boys I'd just met.
"Down to the barn...do you like horses?" Etienne asked.
"You have horses here?" I asked excitedly. He grinned like he knew I would.
"Yes, we have several. Do you ride?"
I didn't want to tell him that I'd never been on a horse in my life other than the broken down nags at the amusement park.
"A little. Can I see them?"
"Sure. Do you ride English or Western?"
Crap, I had no idea. But since the only saddles I'd seen were in cowboy movies, I decided to go with that.
"Western, but I'd like to learn the other if that's what you have."
"We have mainly Western, so you're in luck. Do you cycle?"
"I've never been on a motorcycle, no."
Jacques started to laugh again but stopped quickly when his brother raised his hand.
"Ah, semantics problem. I mean, ride a bicycle."
"I can, but we don't have many places to ride much."
"Do you like the water? To canoe or kayak?"
He was kind of going down a list, assessing my abilities.
"I can canoe a little, but have never been in a kayak." A picture flashed into my mind of the repeated capsizing with my girlfriends at scout camp the previous summer.
"So, what would you like to do tomorrow, go out on the horses?" He was smiling like he already knew what I would choose.
"That would be great."
We'd come to the barn, and Etienne switched on some lights. I heard several neighs of recognition from the stalls. There must have been six or seven horses in there, and they were all pretty big. Etienne pulled two carrots out of his coat pocket, and handed one to me. The other he broke in half and shared with Jacques. It must have been a ritual, because all of the horses stuck their heads out of their stalls at the sound of the carrot snap. Each boy headed for a different horse. I looked down the row and chose one with a blaze of white on its face. Jacques saw where I was headed.
"That one's Marie," he advised.
I smiled at having chosen a girl horse instinctively. I followed them down the rows, rubbing each horse lightly.
"They seem to like you, Kate," the older boy said.
He wasn't as shy as his younger brother. I saw rows of saddles on some sort of wooden rack and lots of different gear hanging on the walls.
"We'd better be getting back," he said as he led the way out of the barn, flicking off the light.
As soon as he did, we were enveloped in darkness. I stood still for a minute, trying to adjust my vision. Something touched my hand and I jumped. Etienne's voice came out of the dark.
"Kate, it's me. Give me your hand, so you don't walk into a tree," he chuckled.
I put my hand out and somehow he found it, gently tugging me forward. Jacques was already several yards ahead, whistling.
"How can you see where you're going?" I asked.
"After awhile, you just know what the ground feels like. I think I could find my way with my eyes closed by now."
We walked silently, our feet crunching on the pine cones that littered the forest floor.
"So, you must have a lot of friends in Baltimore, I expect?" he inquired.
"Yeah, I have a group of girlfriends that I hang out with in my neighborhood, and some friends at school. But we'll be going to different schools in September, so I won't see a lot of them much after this summer."
"And you must have a boyfriend also?"
I was glad he couldn't see my face. "No, not anymore," I said softly.
"Ah, l'amour est inconsistant," he murmured.
Since I didn't know French, I wasn't sure exactly what he'd said, but I thought it translated to love being undependable or something close to that. By then, we'd reached the cabin. He held the door open for me. The adults were gathered around the fire with glasses of wine in their hands. Emma rose and poured three more glasses. Jacques took his, and Etienne picked up the two remaining glasses and handed one to me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He sat down on the floor in front of the fire and gestured an invitation for me to sit next to him. I didn't think I would like wine, especially if it was like the stuff we'd had with dinner at Christmas. So I took a small sip, vowing not to let it show on my face if it was awful. It was surprisingly sweet with a berry taste.
"This is really good. What's it called?" I wanted to know so I could have Nan buy some for the holidays next year.
Etienne smiled and said, "It is wild raspberry liqueur. We picked the berries and made it. It is just something we do every year. I'll show you the cellar where we make and store it tomorrow if you like."
I nodded and restrained myself from chugging the rest of the glass, as they were all sipping it slowly. It wasn't late, but I was tired from the trip, even though I'd slept most of the way. I just wanted to take a bath or shower, unpack and go to bed. My eyes started to droop, and I saw Etienne's hand playfully swipe at Jacques' head again when he started snickering.
"Kate, would you like me to show you to your room? You must be tired after such a long day," he offered.
"Yes, definitely," I remarked as I covered my yawn. After saying my goodnights to everyone, I followed him up the stairs.
"Unfortunately, the loft was not large enough to install a bath, so the guest bath is on the second floor. I hope that won't be a problem for you," he said, pointing to the door.
"I don't think anything's going to be a problem tonight, as tired as I am," I joked.
He hesitated at the base of the loft steps.
"Well, goodnight Kate. I'll see you in the morning. We'll go riding after breakfast. I hope you will be comfortable."
His smile and that accent were nearly irresistible. After a perfunctory unpacking, I grabbed my pajamas and some toiletries to head for the bath. When I opened the door, my mouth dropped. It had the biggest bath I'd ever seen, surrounded by windows. I couldn't see the view because of the dark, but imagined it to be trees. Not only was the tub huge, but the shower had no doors. It was made of large, smooth stones with jets of water that came from several directions. I'd check that out tomorrow because tonight all I wanted was a well of warm water to sit in.
When the water had reached the right level, I squirted some of the bath gel that had been placed on the alcove next to the windows. It smelled deliciously of orange blossoms. When I leaned against the back of the tub, I unknowingly pressed against some sort of button that made the water bubble like it was boiling. It tickled, but I thought it was the greatest. The bubbles quickly piled up to the top of the tub, and I panicked for a minute until I figured out how to turn the machine off. There was a simple plaque on the wall that read 'vivent joyeux, l'amour genereuseement'. I said it over and over, trying to memorize the words so that I could look it up when I got back to my bed.
I decided to try the shampoo that was next to the bath gel. It made my hair smell just as wonderful as the bath water, which cooled way too soon. I reluctantly pulled the plug and toweled off. Pulling on my pajamas and robe, I brushed my teeth and then opened the door just a crack to see if the coast was clear. No one was in the hall, so I walked quickly to the loft steps.
As I raised my foot to ascend the first step, I heard Etienne's voice call out from his bedroom, "Goodnight, Kate."
I froze and spun around, thinking he was in the hallway. I called back, "How did you know it was me?"
"Cette jolie fragrance orange," he said quietly.
Apparently his spoken language would unconsciously change back and forth from English to French. But I knew he meant that he could smell the orange stuff on me. I was going to have to look up a couple of phrases so he didn't think I was a total ignoramus.
"Goodnight, Etienne," I replied, walking quickly up the stairs.
Pulling out my translation book, I lay across the loft bed and tried to figure out what the sign in the bathroom said. All I could get was 'life happy, love generous'. I would have to ask, realizing that words didn't translate exactly the way they were put together.
When I woke up the next morning, the book still rested on my chest. I must have slept like the dead, not moving at all. Wonderful smells wafted up from the kitchen, along with quiet conversation. I quickly pulled on my clothing, brushed my teeth and hair and went down to the kitchen. Everyone was already down there, lingering over rolls and coffee. Apparently this was a group of early risers.
Emma called out, "Good morning, Kate. Come sit."
The fire popped and radiated welcome warmth across the room. I noticed that even the boys had cups of coffee. Since I hated coffee, I asked for milk. I saw Etienne's hand go up and rest on Jacques' shoulder, anticipating his response to my request. There was a basket of sweet, crescent-shaped rolls that were delicious. I resisted the impulse to dunk them in my milk, as I would have at home. I saw Etienne pick his up, break off a small piece and place it in his mouth, so I copied him. He smiled back at me and my face got hot, realizing that he'd done it on purpose to show me. Obviously he thought I was an American savage. It was embarrassing, but I was impressed by how kind he was.
Etienne had jeans on -- Levis, I noted. Apparently French Canadians did not look down on all things American. But Jacques had hiking shorts on, which I thought an odd choice for horseback riding. As soon as I finished my roll, Etienne rose from his seat.
"Ready to go, Kate?" He didn't waste any time getting to the outdoors.
"Sure. See you later, mom."
They waved since they still had food in their mouths.
He held the door open for me and led the way down the path to the barn. Jacques headed off in another direction. I was surprised to see two horses already saddled and waiting to go. How early had he gotten up to get all this ready?
"Isn't Jacques going too?" I asked.
"No, he had plans to go hiking with some friends. Is that a problem, I mean, for it to be the two of us?"
He looked almost comical with one eyebrow cocked, waiting for my answer.
"No, not at all...I just assumed he was going too."
It was the moment of truth. I had to figure out how to not look like an idiot, since I'd never been on a horse. Truthfully, I think he'd already guessed that. He intertwined his fingers to make a place for me to put my foot to step up, since I couldn't reach the stirrup. When I stepped in his hands, he pushed up so that I could swing my leg over the saddle. So far so good, I thought. He quickly adjusted the stirrups, untied the reins and handed them to me. I noticed that he'd picked Marie for me to ride, the horse that I gave the carrot to last night. He untied his horse, swung himself easily up into the saddle, and signaled to his horse to start down the trail.
Marie followed behind like she'd done this a thousand times before. We just walked for about a half mile until we came to a break in the forest where the trail crossed a meadow. I saw him tap his heels lightly against his horse, which started to trot. Copying him, I did the same and was sorry immediately. I started bouncing around like crazy. His horse started going faster and Marie was determined to keep up. It was actually easier when she went faster than a trot, but I was still sliding around in the saddle. Etienne glanced back, saw my gyrations and pulled his horse to a stop until I caught up. He was trying to be diplomatic about my obvious lack of experience.
"Kate, try to squeeze your lower thighs and knees against the horse. That will help you stay in one place. When she runs, just let yourself rock in the saddle with the motion of the horse. If you fight it, you'll get bounced off. After we cross this meadow, we're going to head up that foothill. You will need to lean forward with the horse so she doesn't have to work as hard to climb. Ready?"
I nodded, and we were off again. Riding was easier when squeezing my legs together, but my muscles were not used to this. I was certain that I'd be paying for it later. The horses slowly worked their way up the hill. Etienne paused at the top and gestured at the spectacular view behind us. He looked absolutely in his element, grinning with pleasure at his world. I watched him start down the other side, leaning back in the saddle, so I did the same. Below was a valley with a smooth surfaced lake, reflecting the clouds. When we reached the lake, he swung himself off his horse, tied it to a tree and came over to help me get down. He pulled a sack out of the pack that the horse carried behind the saddle and whipped out a groundcover which he spread out for us to sit on.
"Lunch anyone?" he offered.
I was starving, and surprised that so much time had passed. "Sure. I didn't realize that you'd brought anything with you."
He pulled a loaf of bread out of the pack, along with some cheese and fruit. He also had two little paper cups and a bottle of the raspberry liqueur. I smiled, thinking how differently they approached things here. He served me first and then leaned back, reclining on the cover and tossing off his hat.
"So what do you think of our little place, Kate?"
I snorted at his description. "Actually, I think it's probably the most beautiful place that I've ever seen. I don't know how I'm going to go back home after this," I smiled wistfully.
He smiled back warmly, liking my answer.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but when I asked you last night if you had a boyfriend, you said 'not anymore'. What happened?" he asked curiously.
Ambushed by his question, I surprised myself when a solitary tear rolled down my face. He became agitated and started muttering loudly, apparently berating himself.
"Oh je suis desole ainsi. Comment stupide de moi!"
"No, it's okay. I'm alright. What did you just say?" I wiped my face and drained the cup in my hand.
"I said that I'm sorry for asking such a stupid question. I didn't know that it had happened so recently."
"Actually, it's probably better for me to hear myself say it out loud."
He listened attentively as I told him the whole story. And actually, I did feel better.
"Ce garçon est un imbécile pour quitter quelqu'un aussi beau que vous." He shook his head and gestured into the air with his hand.
"Um, you're doing it again," I said with a half laugh.
"I said that this Gabe must be an imbecile. But maybe I should thank him," his mouth curled ever so slightly into a sympathetic smile.
He refilled his cup and then mine. "A toast then? To happier days for us both, eh?"
His warm brown eyes held mine while we drank, and I desperately racked my brain for some way to change the subject. I'd only known him for two days, and yet I felt an attraction already.
"Hey, don't forget you're going to show me how you made this drink when we get back," I suggested.
"Ah, I can see I'm making you uncomfortable. I'm doing everything wrong today," he mocked himself.
"No, really, it's okay. I'm just kind of on the rebound."
"What does this 'on the rebound' mean?" he said, looking puzzled.
I sighed, wondering how to explain it. I looked around and pulled up a long piece of grass and tied it to a chunk of the bread. I held it so the bread hung straight down and said, "This is when you're normal, just being yourself. And when you are with someone...," I held the bread out to one side. "And when you break up...," I let the bread swing out wide to the other side before it settled back to the center. He nodded, understanding my explanation. The clouds began to race across the sky as the wind picked up.
"We should probably start back. It looks like there may be a storm later this afternoon." His eyes searched the sky as he packed up.
He pointed for me to step up on his leg to get on Marie, and this time he put his hands around my waist to balance me, while I swung my leg over the saddle. He rose with impossible grace onto his horse and we started out of the little valley, back up the foothill. Once we were down the other side, he turned back and called, "Race you home?"
"You're on!"
I didn't wait and gave Marie a light kick. She seemed excited to be able to go around them and get in the front for once, running full speed across the meadow. I was holding on for dear life to both the reins and the hair in her mane. My legs were squeezed tight and I tried to match her motions. It was exhilarating as the wind blew my hair straight back. It took Etienne a few moments to catch up, as we'd caught him totally by surprise. He was yelling and I was laughing at him.
As he pulled up alongside me, he exclaimed, "Okay, you win, you win! Slow down and let's walk them the rest of the way so they can cool down now. You learn pretty fast, you know?"
I thought to myself that the horses weren't the only ones that needed to cool down.
When we burst back into the house, the adults were sitting around the table playing cards. Their heads turned, and we greeted each other. Nan noticed how we were walking more closely together and smiled to herself.
I ran upstairs to wash and get into clean clothes. Etienne raced me up the steps and we laughed breathlessly like little kids. He reached to grab me by the waist, but I saw it coming and danced to the side, eluding his hands. I tore up the steps to the loft, knowing he wouldn't follow me up there. Catching my breath, I pulled out some clothing and my toiletries bag, waiting before going back down the steps. I smelled ambush, knowing he was waiting. At first everything was totally quiet, but then I heard noises below me from his room, so it was safe. I took my shoes off and tiptoed down in my socks, so he wouldn't hear me. But when I got near the bottom the wooden step creaked, and he dashed out of his room. I let out a half scream/yell and ran for the guest bath, slamming the door just before he reached me.
He laughed and said, "You have to come out some time. I can wait."
"Don't hold your breath, 'cause I like long baths."
"Ha! But dinner is in 45 minutes."
I turned the water on and peeled the dusty clothing off of me, squirted in more of the orange blossom stuff and sank into the warm water. My thighs were screaming from the afternoon's ride, and I knew they would only be worse tomorrow. If I weren't so hungry, I would've been in danger of falling asleep in the deliciously warm water. One near-death experience in the bathtub was more than enough to keep me from making that mistake again.
I could hear the shower running in his bathroom and I laughed to myself, imagining his antics as he tried furiously to finish before me. It made no sense for me to rush, because he'd hear the water drain out of the tub anyway. After awhile, mom's voice trilled up the stairs, calling us to dinner. I opened the door just a crack to check the hallway. It was empty, but as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, he came tearing around the corner and caught me. I felt the hair on my neck stand up, and I knew he was going to try to kiss me. Sure enough, he started to lean down, but I reached up and put my finger across his lips and cautioned him with my eyes. He stopped his forward motion and just stood there, smiling slightly and staring at me.
"We'd better go down to dinner. They're waiting for us," I remarked.
He took my hand and refused to let it go as we went down the stairs and into the kitchen. This time he sat down next to me, rather than across from me. I was surprised at how easily we got along and how quickly we were becoming so familiar. It was too fast. I didn't want to go home in worse shape emotionally than when I'd arrived. And what future was there in it with him in Canada? The best I could do was to enjoy our two weeks together and let it go at that. It sounded so simple.
Dinner was delicious and I had to restrain myself from being an absolute pig. Emma had served roast duck, potatoes, vegetables, homemade bread and then berries with cream for dessert. No wonder everyone around here did so much outdoors. They'd be as big as a house if they didn't! Everyone helped clean up after dinner and then went to sit outside to watch the sunset. Etienne kept my hand captive and I grabbed a chair with my other hand, anticipating that he was going to try to pull me onto his lap when he sat down. He grinned when he saw that I'd outmaneuvered him. The raspberry drink came out again and Etienne leaned over and whispered,
"Are you ready to go see the cellar?"
"Absolutely not! Tomorrow will be fine," I snorted.
He laughed softly in response, but I wasn't entering any confined space with him that evening. Older boys always thought they could get away with murder, but I wasn't playing. Anita's face flashed in my mind and I giggled thinking of her pronouncements about boys. So I decided that other than the wine cellar, I was going to lie outside and read tomorrow while my muscles recuperated.
By the time the raspberry concoction went around three times, I was almost done in for the night. Even so, I couldn't possibly go to bed this early. Etienne stood up from his chair and gestured with his head for me to follow. Against my better judgment, I did.
"There's not a lot of nightlife around here, as you can see. Would you like to go see some shooting stars?" he suggested.
"Only if you're going to behave yourself. This better not be a ruse just to get me off alone somewhere. I mean it."
He could tell by my tone of voice that I was serious.
"Dieu, vous me rendez fous!" he muttered to himself.
"Stop that. It's not fair to keep saying all that stuff that I can't understand!" I scolded him.
"I said that you are driving me crazy," he grimaced.
"I'm sorry, but you're just going too fast for me."
"Okay, so just the stars, alright?" he said, shaking his head.
He held out his hand and I took it. We walked away from the house lights to a low stone wall and sat.
"Just pick a place in the sky and watch. It won't take but a few minutes at most and you'll see one."
We sat there and he was right. Within minutes I saw one and then another. And the remote location made the stars brighter than I'd ever seen.
"Wow, this is really beautiful. I can't believe you actually live here with all of this around you."
"You should stay for the rest of the summer. I'll bet our moms could work it out. There is so much to do here outdoors and I think you would like it a lot. I would like it if you did."
His voice was quiet and sincere. I had to admit it was tempting, but my life was in Baltimore with my friends. This place and this boy were like a wonderful dream, amazing but ephemeral.
"If I stayed here, I'm not sure I would want to go back," I sighed.
"Would that be such a bad thing?" he offered.
"Maybe. I don't think I'd like boarding school, though. But enough talk about leaving, because we still have nine more days before I have to go home. That's a lot of days to fill."
"So what would you like to fill tomorrow with?" he asked.
"Well, you were going to show me the wine cellar and judging from how my legs and butt feel tonight, I'm going to read one of my books tomorrow," I pronounced.
"Read?" he said incredulously. "How can you waste a day here reading? At least wait to see if we get a rainy day or something to do that!"
He sounded offended that I would pick a book over doing something with him.
"Oh, I almost forgot to ask you. What does that plaque in the guest bathroom say? I tried to look the words up, but all I got was something about a happy life and a lot of love or something like that."
"It means 'live joyously and love generously'."
"Oh. Well, at least let me see if I can walk tomorrow before I even consider changing my plans," I moaned.
His face brightened at the possibility, and he impulsively kissed my cheek.
"Hey, cut that out. You promised," I warned.
"Sorry." He grinned incorrigibly.
"Seriously, how can you go from meeting someone for the first time, to kissing them in two days, Etienne? Explain that to me!"
"Haven't you ever met someone that you could feel in your gut was right for you?"
Michael's face flashed in my mind. "Only once."
"And was your instinct correct?"
"I don't know yet," I laughed ruefully.
"What do you mean, you don't know yet?" His face looked puzzled.
"Well, remember when I told my story about Gabe? I mean it's his older brother."
His eyebrows shot up. "Oh, now this is too good. Tell me everything."
I laughed. I'd never had an American boy act so interested in something like this.
"There's nothing to tell. I was going with Gabe at the time, but every time I saw his brother I felt like I'd been...hit by lightning."
"And you did nothing about it?" He sounded amazed.
"Uh, Etienne, I was twelve! Besides, he goes to a different school now and I never see him anymore."
He shrugged his shoulders like that made no difference if love were involved.
"Americans! Everything must be so practical."
It was funny to listen to him when he confronted something foreign to his way of thinking.
"Well, we could argue this all night, but I'm ready for sleep. Let's go back."
"Kate, can I ask you something before we go back....an experiment?"
"Yes," I said warily.
"Please, just kiss me once, and tell me you don't feel it too. If you feel nothing, I won't ask you again the rest of your visit. So you won't have me pestering you anymore. What could be more reasonable than that?"
"You're impossible. I'm telling you, I'm not going to feel the same way you do. So why even bother?"
"You are like in Shakespeare....protesting too much. I think you are afraid you are going to like it."
"Oh for God's sake, just kiss me and get over it...."
The words were barely past my lips when he took my face in his hands and kissed me so totally unlike Gabe had ever done, that my head whirled. Where did a sixteen year old boy learn to kiss like that? When he stopped, I had to sit back down on the stone wall or I would've lost my balance. He watched me closely and when he saw my reaction, he started to smile, knowing he'd been right all along. When I turned to look at him, he kissed me again, wrapping his arms around me this time.
Finally, I pulled back from him and said breathlessly, "That's two. You're cheating."
At that he laughed and draped one arm across my shoulder. We sat on the stone wall for several minutes, until I stood up, unsteadily at first.
"I have to go back now."
"So, don't try to tell me that you felt nothing," he pressed.
"I'm not trying to tell you anything. I have to go back."
"Why, are you afraid of me now?"
"A little. Please, take me back."
"Alright, but you aren't afraid of me. You are afraid of how that made you feel."
I glared at him, knowing he was right.
"Okay, calm down. We'll go back," he agreed.
We walked back in silence, and when we got to the cabin, I went inside quickly and ran up the stairs to the loft.
The next morning I didn't want to go downstairs. I knew he would be there waiting and it felt as if some massive drawbridge had been lowered and couldn't be closed again. So I stayed in bed, trying to read. But every time I finished a page, I couldn't remember what I'd read. I tried to go back to sleep, but my head ached. Eventually I heard someone coming up the loft stairs. Please, don't let it be him.
Nan's head appeared and she made her way over to my bed and sat down.
"So, what's going on with you now, honey?"
I put my head in her lap while she stroked my hair. I didn't speak for awhile, and she wisely didn't either. Finally, I sat up and hugged her, resting my cheek on her shoulder.
"Nan, did you ever kiss a boy and it felt so good that it scared you?"
Her eyes got bigger for a moment and then she considered my question.
"Well, I kissed a few boys, but I don't think any of them made me feel like that until I met your grandfather. So, I was older and better able to handle it. I take it you're talking about Etienne?"
"Yes." I took a deep breath and put my head back down on her lap. "I don't know what to do. We're going to be here for eight more days, and I'm afraid he's going to do it again. I mean, I can't just avoid him the whole time."
"Kate, do you remember on our way up here, when you asked me what Emma did for a living? Are you still interested in seeing her studio? I could ask her to show it to you. It would give you some space and that might help take some of the pressure off."
"Gosh, Nan, I'd forgotten all about that. Yes, please do ask her. Ask her this morning! That would be a huge help."
"Alright, you get dressed now, and I'll go back downstairs and ask her. Come on down as soon as you're ready. You can't just hide up here for the rest of your visit, you know."
She went back down the stairs and I soon heard their voices buzzing in the kitchen while I dressed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE -- Creative Urges
I walked into the kitchen and saw Etienne sitting at the table, waiting for me. He smiled knowingly and scooted over for me to sit. Nan was next to Emma and I knew they'd spoken together already. Emma cleared her throat.
"Kate, your grandmother tells me that you're interested in learning about sculpture. Would you like to walk over to my studio this morning and I can show you some things?"
"Yes, thank you. I'd like that very much."
I could tell he was watching me, and I avoided returning his gaze, afraid I would change my mind.
"Well, eat some breakfast and we'll go over in just a few minutes."
She remembered my preference and set a glass of milk down in front of me.
Etienne's voice nearly made me drop my roll.
"So when did you develop an interest in sculpting?"
"My grandmother told me about your mom on our way up here and I wanted to see what she did. This morning was the first chance I've had to ask her about it. When she's had enough of me, I'll go check out the wine cellar with you, if you like." I darted a glance at him.
"Let me know when you are ready to see it. I'll be working in the barn."
I quickly finished eating and caught Emma's eye. She dried her hands and motioned to me. I followed her out the back door and we walked in the opposite direction of the barn to an airy wooden building that had more windows than siding. When she threw the door open, I could see that it was an amazing workspace. She had various clay works in progress, covered to keep them from drying prematurely. One was a huge calla lily. It looked beautiful, but she said it was a long way from being finished and still needed to be put into the oven as well as painted. There was a wall of knives, tools, big containers of clay and paints of different hues.
On the far side of the building, in a separate room, she did stone sculpture. It had to be in a different room so that dust from the stone didn't contaminate the clay pieces. As these didn't have to be covered, I saw multiple busts and statues in different stages of completion. There were chisels and face protectors. She even had some pneumatic tools. I was fascinated.
"Would you like to try your hand at doing something in clay or stone, Kate?"
"Oh, yes, clay! I would love that!" I squealed.
Emma smiled and took me back to a table that she'd cleared off, explaining how to set it up, and laying out a few tools for me to use.
"Just remember to cover it up when you stop for the day, or else it will dry out and be ruined," she cautioned. "I'll be back at the house if you need anything. Bonne chance -- good luck!"
I had no idea what I wanted to make, so I went outside and sat on a tree stump to think. After considering and discarding multiple ideas, I decided that I would try a small statue of a young girl, a dancer perhaps. I had no idea of formal technique or how I was supposed to do it, so I molded a chunk of clay and distributed it into crude general areas, not trying for any detail yet. I had no idea what time it was, but I must've been in there for hours. When I finally stopped, it wasn't because I wanted to, but because I didn't want to burn out on the first day. I covered my little dancer carefully and walked back to the house.
Emma was sitting on the front porch with mom and Nan. She laughed when I walked up. I had no idea that my clothing and hair had pieces of clay stuck all over it.
"Mon Dieu, Kate, I forgot to give you an apron to wear over your clothes! Have you been in there all day?"
"Yeah, I had to figure out what I wanted to make first, and after I decided, it took a long time to just get a basic shape. But I did cover it up, and I'll work on it again tomorrow."
Mom looked pleased that I'd spent some time with her cousin and perhaps found a common interest.
"Is Etienne still down at the barn?" I wondered aloud.
"Yes, I believe he is," Emma replied.
I'd promptly forgotten what I looked like, and walked toward the barn. For some reason, it didn't seem to bother me to see him as much as it had this morning. When I entered the barn, I saw him brushing one of the horses. He had music playing on a small radio and was singing along, making faces at the horse, unaware that I was watching. I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh. He turned to hang up the brush and saw me out of the corner of his eye. Then it was his turn to laugh at my appearance.
"Well, you certainly look like you've had a close encounter with a pile of clay," he joked. "How did it go?"
"I liked it. But I've had enough for one day. I'm going to go change and you can show me the wine cellar when you're ready."
"Come on, I'll walk back with you. I'm finished here, and I need to shower too."
We walked back together, telling each other what we'd done for most of the day. After cleaning up and changing, he waited for me on the front porch. Rising from the chair as I approached, he motioned for me to follow him as he walked around to the side of the cabin. A set of concrete steps descended below ground.
"Hold on to me," he instructed. "If you zig instead of zag, you could knock over an entire season's worth of wine."
So I took his hand and matched his body direction carefully. I was astonished to see row after row of bottles on their sides on long wooden racks. It was chilly down there too. He showed me how they were arranged by variety and year, and then showed me their work area.
"What's your favorite fruit?" he asked.
I answered without hesitation, "Peaches!"
He deftly selected a bottle and motioned me back into the work area, grabbing two glasses and a corkscrew. He poured a beautifully golden liquid into my glass.
"Try that and tell me what you think," he coaxed.
As soon as I lifted the glass, I could smell the lovely fragrance. It was like biting into a peach. When I sipped it, even with the subtle burn of the alcohol, the flavor was delicious.
"Oh my god, that is without a doubt, the best thing I've ever tasted. Did your dad make this?"
"No, I did."
I looked at him in disbelief at first, but then I could see how proud he was of it.
"Etienne, this is unbelievable. I mean, if you sold this stuff, you could make a fortune. I don't know anyone who wouldn't be crazy about it!"
He looked pleased that I liked it so much, and refilled my glass, which I promptly emptied again.
"Hey, take it easy, Kate. This stuff will knock you on your ass just as fast as doing shots, you know."
I felt the warmth spreading already, remembering that I hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"Can I have just one more, please? It's so good."
He looked at me for a moment, like he couldn't decide whether to give it to me or not. Then he shrugged his shoulders and poured more into my glass.
"Do you want to do something together tomorrow? The weather is supposed to be nice, so we can either go cycling or go out on the lake in the canoe."
I put down my empty glass and leaned against him slightly.
"Non plus pour vous, petite fille."
"Stop that. What did you say?"
"I said no more of this for you right now."
"Who are you, my mother now?" I said sarcastically.
"No, I'm just trying to listen to the nobler side of my nature, which is a shaky conversation at best."
"Oh, just shut up and kiss me," I said, looking up into his face and giggling.
He looked down at me like I had changed into an alien creature. Setting the bottle down, he held my face still and did that thing again. The alcohol made it even more intense. I kissed him back this time and put my arms around his neck. When he tried to lift me up onto the work table, so he didn't have to keep bending down, the sensation of being lifted triggered a memory of the rectory room.
"No! Don't do that. You can't pick me up like that," I protested tearfully.
"What? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he said, disturbed by my outburst.
"It's ....nothing, never mind," I replied, recovering my composure somewhat. "I just don't like to be picked up."
He looked at me oddly, not understanding what was behind my freakish behavior. There was a little step stool under the workbench. I pulled it out and stood on the first rung, reaching for his face. He kissed me again, tentatively this time until I leaned into him and imitated his kiss right back to him. Maybe no one had done that before, because he started breathing funny and making noises in his throat. I don't know how long we were down there like that until I heard mom overhead on the front porch, calling me for dinner. Reluctantly, I pulled my lips back from his, while he leaned forward, intent on reclaiming them.
"We have to go up there before they come down here, looking for me," I whispered.
He stood still with his eyes closed, while his breathing slowed. "You go up first. I'll come up in a minute."
At that age, I didn't have a clue why he had to wait before coming upstairs. I clumsily climbed up the cellar stairs to the side yard and called back to mom that I was coming in. It would be a miracle if I made it to the dinner table inside without staggering. I'm sure I was quite a sight, still sprinkled all over with clay, walking with extreme caution like I had a steel rod for a spine, and intent on not speaking to anyone for fear of slurring my words. And the most ridiculous thing was that I fooled absolutely no one.
Emma, Henri, and Nan exchanged glances with each other, struggling to keep straight faces, knowing where I had been and with whom. Mom was looking at me like she wanted to shut me in an attic until I turned twenty-one. Jacques stared with his mouth hanging open until Etienne came into the kitchen. At that point, everyone looked at him and he started to get red-faced. He sat down and Jacques started snickering until his brother flicked the back of his neck in retaliation. Henri excused himself from the table and when he re-entered the kitchen with several bottles of peach liqueur, I started hiccupping uncontrollably.
I was seriously hung over the next morning. Mom did nothing in the way of discipline, figuring this was punishment enough. I'd never experienced anything remotely like this. At some point, Etienne came up the loft steps and handed me some aspirin and a cola with the bubbles stirred out. I heard his voice buzz and his laughter after he went back downstairs to the others. It wasn't until about three o'clock in the afternoon that I felt human enough to get dressed and come downstairs. I was so dehydrated that I drank about a quart of juice. Crackers were the most adventurous things that I dared to eat. The rocking chairs on the porch were out of the question, so I just sat on the step. Eventually Etienne came out and joined me.
"Don't ever come near me with a bottle of that stuff again," I growled.
"Why? I thought it worked great," he said slyly.
I knew exactly what he was referring to, and ignored it.
"But I guess cycling or canoeing is out for today."
"Ha, ha. So not funny."
"Seriously, though, you would feel better if you got up and moved around some. Go ask your mom if you can go for a ride. I want to show you something."
"I'll just bet you do," I said in my most sarcastic tone.
"I'm not kidding. You'll be sorry if you leave without hearing this."
"You go ask her, 'cause I don't want to move. And can you get me a couple more aspirin?"
He went inside for a few minutes and emerged with the car keys and the aspirin.
"Come on, she said it was okay." He took my hand and walked me slowly to the car.
"Etienne, you'd better make this car crawl, and no sharp turns because my stomach is still pretty precarious."
We drove a couple of miles down the road and then turned onto a long dirt road into a thickly forested area.
"I didn't bring my little red riding hood outfit with me, so what're we doing here? It's getting dark."
He pulled to the side of the road, turned off the headlights and locked the doors.
"Hey, what're you doing?" I demanded.
"Sshh...just be very quiet, watch and listen," he said in a hushed tone.
It was kind of creepy, so I instinctively inched closer to him. We sat in utter silence, waiting for I didn't know what. Faint rustling sounds started a short distance away from the car, and I glued myself against his side.
"What's that moving around out there?" I asked in a tense whisper.
"Just wait a few more minutes," he promised.
I had no idea what he meant, but I waited. All of a sudden a mournful howl pierced the darkness, and then half a dozen others joined in. I was covered in goose bumps.
"What is that?" My voice was about to break.
"It's a bunch of wolves. Isn't it cool to actually hear them out in the wild?"
I listened, scared but fascinated by the cacophony of their wild melody.
"Are you ready to go back?" he asked, after we'd listened to them for awhile. His arm had somehow managed to drape itself across my shoulders.
"Yes, and I swear if you try to kiss me, I'm gonna hurl," I promised.
"I think we can probably get through one day without it."
When we got back to the cabin, he walked me to the loft stairs.
"Goodnight, Kate. You'll feel normal tomorrow," he promised.
I grunted in response. When I got upstairs, I gingerly lowered myself onto the bed and fell asleep instantly.
For the remainder of our vacation, I alternated working on my sculpture and doing stuff with Etienne. We biked, canoed and hiked endlessly. Every evening after dinner, we took carrots down to the horses so we could kiss in the darkened barn.
On the afternoon of our last day, I asked Emma to come look at my little dancer. She circled it silently.
"Kate, she's actually quite good. Are you sure you haven't done this before?"
"No, I can assure you. This is as bad as it gets."
"We should fire her so you can take her home with you. Let me get my camera before she goes into the oven."
I liked what I'd done for a first attempt, and wanted to do more when I got another chance. But I knew I wouldn't be taking her home. Emma came back with her camera and Henri.
"You should definitely pursue this if you like it. I think you have a lot of talent." Emma took several photographs of her and then put her into the oven. We walked back to the house and found Etienne sitting on the front steps, unhappily staring out at the sun that hung low in the sky. I sat down next to him.
"Why do you have to go back? What's so special about a city? I really wish you would stay longer."
I'd known that he was going to do this but, unlike him, I could separate the boy from his kisses. I leaned my head against his arm and he curled it around my waist as we watched the fiery horizon. Everyone lingered over dinner, as it was our last evening together. Etienne stuffed his jacket with carrots and handed some to me. We walked quickly to the barn and he practically threw them at the horses in his haste to kiss one last time. I learned a lot about kissing that summer. With him, it was like an art form...a dangerous one. There was certainly more than one reason why I didn't dare stay.
The next morning, I rushed down to Emma's sculpting studio. She'd already taken my little dancer out of the oven and it was cool enough to handle. I cradled her gently as I walked back to the house. Etienne was going back and forth between the bedrooms and the car, hauling luggage. I waited until he went back inside for another load and quietly followed him upstairs. He smiled sadly when he saw me.
"Etienne, I want to thank you for making these last two weeks so ... well, you know. Would you keep my little dancer until I see you again?"
He set the suitcases down and took her from my arms, straight into his room. I peeked into his doorway and saw him setting her up on his chest of drawers, a pedestal of sorts. He took a few steps back and admired her, holding out his hand for me. I stepped into his room and put my hand in his. He turned slowly and kissed me goodbye. For a moment, I nearly lost my resolve to return home. His eyes looked pained, so I quickly kissed his cheek and walked away. I didn't want to see him lose it, so I picked up the suitcases and walked out to the car. He gazed from his bedroom window as I got into the back seat. I turned, waving slowly in his direction and, as we pulled away, I saw the bottle of peach liqueur that he'd placed on the seat next to my pillow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO -- Back to Earth
After an interminable ride home, we returned to the real world. I dropped my bags and called Anita before I even unpacked. Less than an hour later, she was knocking at the front door. She found it unbearable to wait until morning to hear the details of my vacation.
"God, am I glad you're back! It has been B-O-R-I-N-G around here. Are you feeling better now than when you left?" she ventured.
"Yeah, I am actually. And there's no way I can tell you about everything that happened in one evening. This is going to have to be done in installments. But at least your vicarious vacation will last longer that way," I giggled.
She studied me as I moved around the room, putting my things away.
"You met somebody, didn't you?" she said dryly.
"What makes you think that?"
"Oh, I don't think that. I KNOW that."
I nodded my head at her.
"Yes, but I'm only telling you about the first day while you're here tonight. There's just too much to tell."
So I started the story while she lay motionless across my bed, listening. And for the next week, either she was at my house or I was at hers, everyday. She said it was better than any radio or television show ever. By the time I reached the last day and showed her the bottle that Etienne had given me, my mom came home waving a big envelope full of photographs she'd taken while we were there. Anita was ecstatic and poured over the pictures like she'd been with us.
"Kate, if I were you, I would have never come back home, ever," she said flatly.
"Believe me, there were times that I thought about that," I assured her.
And if there was anything that could have brought me back to earth harder, it would have had to be the big box that arrived in the mail that afternoon, containing my school uniforms. It seemed impossible that we were starting school in just a couple of weeks. I wouldn't even have taken them out of the box, but mom made me try everything on to make sure it all fit.
Anita and I finished out the summer at the pool, and I was surprised that I only thought of Gabe occasionally. We went to freshman orientation with our families and both felt that we'd taken a quantum leap in our lives.
The ugly pleated plaid skirt, white camp blouse, boxy navy blazer, white socks and ubiquitous saddle shoe uniform of Catholic Girls' Institute was even worse than our Holy Sacrament outfit. Surely a nun had designed it for maximum coverage of the young female figure. Mom and Nan hugged me goodbye that Friday morning as I left to join up with Anita to walk to the Number 8 bus stop for our first day of high school. We'd spent a lot of time together over the summer, sharing fears and speculations about this very day. I even wondered if Gabe was thinking of me at all this morning as he headed out to his first day at Calvert Hill.
The sexual segregation of our last two years at HSS would continue, as Calvert Hill was an all-boys school and, of course, Catholic Girls' Institute was as its name implied. And except for a rare sighting, I hadn't seen much of Michael since he graduated over two years ago.
Anita and I were the only CGI students on a bus crowded with commuters and boys going to Poly Tech, which had the reputation of a top-notch public school heavy on engineering studies. We had to transfer at the War Memorial Plaza for the last leg of our journey to one of the oldest girls' Catholic school in the nation. The bus pulled up to our destination with little fanfare.
Anita asked, "Well, are we ready for this?"
We both steeled ourselves for whatever the day would bring. Dozens of plaid skirts milled on the sidewalk, as the black-robed nuns attempted to herd us into the gym. There we would be dispatched to our respective freshman home room classes. Searching the assignment sheets hanging from the gym walls, we were relieved to find that we had the same homeroom teacher -- Miss Horn. We smirked a bit at her name, but felt glad that it was a lay teacher for a change rather than a nun.
There were nearly thirty girls in our home room class. Our entire freshman class of two hundred girls was divided into five sections. The girls in the fifth section, we soon discovered, had scored highest on their entrance exams and would take the most challenging classes. The section one girls, on the other hand, were already arbitrarily headed for the business/office skills class. All the different sections were mixed in home room, but once the instructional day began, we would stick with our individual academic section. Anita and I were section four's.
The day flew by as we were shuttled successively to English I, U.S. History, Algebra, General Science, Religion and Latin I, in addition to the weekly music and gym classes. The Latin class was the strangest. Our teacher was the school's vice-principal, Sister Etto. She stood barely 4'10" tall, had a Napoleon complex, and beat her chalkboard pointer in cadence as we all repeated the Latin vowel sounds, learning useless words. But this would be a class that we would always do our homework for. No one messed with little Sr. Etto.
Our lockers were in the basement level, next to the below-ground gym. Preparation for gym class entailed dressing out in a one-piece cotton suit, color coded to our class level. Freshmen wore yellow. Boring exercises and information on basketball team tryouts followed. First-year students were not worthy of any school-sponsored co-ed activities. Apparently the idea was to keep us insulated from the opposite sex for as long as possible. This didn't work very well though, as there was an efficient information grapevine about opportunities at St. Ignatius, Calvert Hill and a couple of other boys' schools.
At dismissal, our groups formed according to modes of transportation. Underclassmen split into commercial or school bus lines. As we stood waiting, we watched enviously as the junior and senior girls got into cars with boyfriends or girlfriends. At least Anita and I got to check out the Poly boys on the city busl.
"Well, that was interesting, huh?" Anita remarked.
We collapsed into our bus seats with a tower of textbooks containing homework assignments.
"Yeah, not too bad, except for algebra. I'm going to hate that class."
Anita nodded ruefully. With our shared dislike of puzzles and problems, math classes were particularly trying.
"But," I said hopefully, "English won't be too bad. We get to read a lot of novels."
It seemed odd that our first day of high school was on a Friday rather than a Monday. Maybe the nuns needed a weekend just as much as we did, to recover from the stress of so much newness.
"Hey, do you want to go to the pre-season football scrimmage tomorrow at St. Ignatius? We might as well scope out the possibilities there before the St. Mary's Prep girls pick them over." Anita's brother, Lee, was a junior at St. Ignatius. AND he had his driver's license.
"That would be awesome!" I agreed, feeling a surge of excited expectation.
St. Ignatius and Calvert Hill were rival schools, and their Thanksgiving morning football game was always eagerly anticipated.
"Lee has to leave by eleven tomorrow morning to suit up, so we'll get there a little early, unless you'd rather have your grandmother drive you," she teased.
I screwed up my face at her remark, preferring the first option.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE -- The Reunion
As I dressed for the scrimmage the next morning, the pile of clothing lying across my desk chair mounted as I tried on one thing after another. I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard, so I stuck strictly to prep-style khaki pants and a long sleeved, scoop neck pink tee. My hair was still long, way past my shoulders, so I pulled the sides back and tied it with a grosgrain ribbon. Skipping down the stairs, I burst out the front door at the sound of the car's horn. Lee's teammate, Ron Spellman, was in the front seat and I climbed into the back with Anita. Lee glanced at us in the rearview mirror, and Ron turned around briefly before returning his gaze to the front.
"Lee, Ronnie, this is Kate," Anita tossed out.
Both boys replied with a perfunctory "Hey", before resuming their football discussion. I grinned at Anita's excited eyes as we made our way to St. Ignatius. It was early, so the field wasn't very crowded yet. We picked out seats on the tiered benches that flanked each side of the football field. We sat on the home field side.
"See that building over there?" Anita pointed. "That's the locker room. The guys will come out soon, after they change into their practice uniforms.
"How do you know that, Anita?"
She made a short exhalation noise. "Lee's a junior. Do I need to tell you how many football games my parents have dragged me here to watch?"
"Oh, right."
A line of cars began to form, spilling out groups of spectators. There were some parents, groups of assorted high school students and lots of St. Mary's girls. Anita grunted.
"The St. Mary's girls think they have an automatic claim on the St. Ig boys."
I thought they were intimidating with their expensive clothes and exquisitely groomed hair and nails. Feeling a stab of jealousy, I wrapped my arms around myself and my own discount store clothing.
"Look," Anita jabbed with her elbow. "Here they come."
A line of boys in football gear exited the building that Anita had pointed out earlier. Some of the players were average size, but the majority of them were bigger than I expected. They definitely did not look like high school boys, so I guessed a lot of them were seniors.
"There are Lee and Ronnie," Anita gestured.
It was hard to tell who was who with their helmets and face guards. The battle lines formed as the players slapped a group high five with a loud "huuaaah" noise. Anita knew a lot about football because of Lee, so she kept a running commentary on the different positions and rules of the game, attempting to bring me up to speed. I knew nothing, so it was a leap to just grasp that the object of the game was to move the ball to the other team's end zone - or did I have that backwards? She pointed out the quarterbacks on each team. St. Ig's quarterback was bigger than the other team's. He looked strong; drilling the ball into the receiver's waiting arms again and again.
About fifteen minutes into the game, during a time-out, she turned to me, exasperated.
"Are you actually going to sit there and tell me you don't know who that is?" she exclaimed.
"Who, who is?"
"St. Ig's quarterback, dummy!"
"Now, why would I know who the quarterback is? You're the football expert here! I've never been to one of these before, remember?"
She choked back a laugh, enjoying her little game.
"Okay, who was two years ahead of us at HSS?"
I rolled my eyes, getting more frustrated. "Only about twenty boys!"
"And has a younger brother named Gabe?" she coached.
The realization hit me like a freight train.
"Michael!" I said breathlessly, my mouth falling open.
Anita snickered. "Are you sure you're in section four at school?"
I laughed at her and then defended my ignorance.
"That wasn't fair. Who can tell with all that equipment covering their heads and faces?"
"Can you believe how big he is now?" she sighed. "Wait 'til he takes his helmet off during half time."
My hands gripped the edge of the bench seat in a vain attempt to control the excitement spreading through me. I wanted to see his face now.
"I didn't know he played football," I remarked.
"Yeah, junior varsity for freshman and sophomore year, but he'll be the starting quarterback on varsity this year. He has a very good arm," she commented.
It seemed like halftime would never come. The coach blew his whistle and the teams headed to their respective sides. My eyes followed Michael as he pulled his helmet off, approaching the bench. His hair dripped with sweat, but the dark curls refused to be flattened as he ran his fingers through them. He took a cup of liquid and drank, refilling it several times before crushing it and firing it into the trash container. His eyes casually scanned the tier of seats as his chest heaved from the extended period of exertion. He looked right at me and Anita, but without recognition, his glance sweeping away.
"Oh my gosh, Anita, he didn't recognize us," I exclaimed.
"Well, duh, hopefully we look just a little different than we did in sixth grade," she scoffed.
I hadn't thought about that. After two years, we probably did. We were taller, leaner but definitely curved, with longer hair and older faces. From a distance, Michael's face hadn't changed all that much. He was already tall in eighth grade, but he had definitely added significant muscle bulk. I wanted a closer look at his face.
"I'm going to get a drink. Do you want to come with me?" I offered with feigned innocence.
We made our way down the seats and walked toward the concession stand, passing directly behind the players' bench. Michael was talking and joking with the other players, but his eyes wandered around the small crowd. He suddenly laughed in response to something that another boy was saying, and I inhaled sharply at his breathtaking smile. I grabbed Anita's arm to pass more slowly, hoping he would see us. She giggled just loudly enough for his eyes to sweep casually in our direction. He stared at us for a moment, like he was searching a memory file. Then his eyebrows knitted and his forehead creased.
"Kate?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe it.
I thrilled at his recognition, blushing and smiling.
"Michael?" I retorted.
"Wow, look at you two!" he grinned.
"Look at you too.....varsity football, huh?" I responded, flaunting my newly acquired knowledge.
"Yeah, I have to do something other than study around here," he laughed. "I almost didn't recognize either of you. It's been a long time. Are both of you at CGI now?"
It pleased me that he knew that.
Anita chimed in, "Ugh.....freshmen!"
He seemed relaxed, friendly and less intimidating than I remembered, maybe because we weren't such little kids any more. He laughed again.
"Don't worry, you'll blink and the year will be over, and then you'll be wise fools."
My face must have shown that I didn't get that reference.
"Oh, I forgot. You two are probably just starting Latin. We have to take it all four years here. 'Wise fool' is the translation for sophomore."
I was barely hearing what he was saying anymore. I stared into those eyes, realizing how much I'd missed the deep, almost violet-blue tint, cloaked in thick, black lashes.
Anita jabbed me with her elbow, snapping me out of my reverie.
"Am I putting you to sleep with my Latin expertise?" he teased.
My face flushed as I smiled back at him.
"Would you girls like to grab something to eat after the scrimmage is over?"
My heart did a cartwheel in my chest, as I restrained the squeal that threatened to escape.
"That would be great, but we wouldn't have a way to get home. Anita's brother drove us here."
"No problem. I'll give you both a ride afterward."
I glanced at Anita and she nodded.
"Sure!"
His eyes were dancing playfully. "I'll meet you back here at the bench after the game," he promised, pulling his helmet back on and trotting back toward the field.
Anita and I turned to each other, and both did our best silent scream.
"And what I wouldn't give to be a fly in that shower stall," she sighed.
I flinched as unwanted images of the exposed men from earlier years flickered in my head, twisting my stomach.
"You're so gross, Anita."
By the time we had our drinks, the scrimmage had resumed and I turned to watch Michael play as we made our way back to the seating area. He had the football after the snap and turned his head to look at us. His momentary distraction was costly, resulting in a loud crunch of protective equipment as the opposing linebacker sacked him. The coach's whistle blew multiple times as he pulled Michael over to the sideline and bellowed at him like he'd lost his mind. I was just glad that he didn't get hurt, as he sheepishly glanced over once more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR -- The Road Forks
We climbed back up to our seats to anxiously wait out the second half of the scrimmage. I felt a pang of guilt, resurrected from the very first dance I'd gone to with Gabe. This was his brother, for God's sake. It seemed wrong, but I didn't know how I could control the way my heart soared into the stratosphere whenever I looked at Michael. I remembered my conversation with Etienne on this topic and his amazement at these very concerns of mine.
I could tell that Anita liked Michael too. What if he liked me better than her? What kind of a best friend took the boy you liked, especially when she'd already been his brother's girlfriend? I was completely overreacting. He could just be happy to see us both after such a long time, and was only being polite. I decided to wait and see how things played out before rearranging my world over a boy's smile.
Finally, the scrimmage was over and the players filed into the locker room to wash off the grunge. It was all I could do to keep from hopping in excitement. Anita was all smiles too, clearly just as crazed as I was.
"Can you believe this?" she gushed. "Wouldn't it have been neat if you were still dating Gabe and we could've all gone out together?"
There it was. Even she didn't suspect that I felt the way I did about Michael.
"Yeah, sure, that would've been great." I responded automatically.
Would I really have to sit there now, knowing that Anita clearly interpreted Michael's overtures to be directed only at her? Was there some unwritten law that if you liked a boy in the past, that you couldn't be interested in his brother too? I'd been paired with Gabe since sixth grade, for nearly three years before we stopped seeing each other. And I loved him in a warm puppy kind of way. He was the sweetest boy I'd ever known, but was I supposed to shut myself off from any other possibilities out of a sense of loyalty? I stored those thoughts away for later, tired of dealing with them.
Michael finally emerged from the lockers, curls billowing in the breeze, his unbuttoned polo shirt hugging his muscled chest. He walked toward us, smiling, his eyes politely roaming back and forth between Anita and me.
"Ready? I'm parked over there. Just wait here and I'll go get the car."
He turned and jogged away from us toward the parking lot. I thought Anita was going to break into a dance routine, she was so high with excitement. Michael hit the gas and quickly pulled up alongside the edge of the field where we stood waiting. He leaned across the front bench-style seat and opened the passenger door. I knew Anita wanted to sit next to him, so I let her position herself to climb in first. She didn't see Michael's eyes dart a brief disappointed look at me, which he immediately shut away to smile at Anita. I got in next to her, which meant she had to sit even closer to him to give me room.
"Is 'The Crease' okay with you girls?" he asked.
The Crease was a popular hangout for St. Ig boys, mostly because they got to associate themselves with the older Johns Hopkins boys who frequented the place, upping its coolness quotient. Saturday afternoon would be quiet though, as the popular time to be there was for the TGIF's.
I nodded and Anita sang out, "That would be great!"
"Then, The Crease it is."
He had to know that neither of us had ever been there (at least I assumed that Anita hadn't). A freshman girl would never go there because the guys were older and the danger factor went up exponentially. We pulled into the parking lot and Michael jumped out, coming around to open the door on our side. Anita kept telegraphing grins to me whenever he wasn't looking at her. The place wasn't crowded, so we had no trouble finding a booth. Michael slid across a seat and Anita swiftly planted herself next to him. I stifled a smile and sat directly across from him. Michael looked amused.
After we placed our orders, he started asking us questions about everything we were doing at CGI. Anita answered most of them, probably so she could keep his face turned toward her. He paused, and then Anita asked the one question that I did not want to discuss. I wanted to strangle her. She wasn't playing fair, and apparently the gloves were off now.
"So how is Gabe doing at Calvert Hill?" she asked with exaggerated interest.
"I think my little brother is kind of overwhelmed right now, trying to adjust."
"Yeah, Kate hadn't heard from him for so long that she gave up and got a Canadian boyfriend when she went on vacation this summer," she purred.
Traitor! She was definitely trying to drive a wedge here. Michael's eyes met mine, staring intently while he spoke.
"I guess we're all dealing with a lot of change right now."
He seemed to know exactly what Anita was trying to do. Deftly steering his attention to me, he began asking about a variety of things that had nothing to do with Gabe.
"You have a boyfriend in Canada?" he asked.
"No, he's not my boyfriend. He was the son of my mom's cousin that we visited in Montreal. We went on a couple of very casual dates while I was there, that's all."
Anita frowned as she tried to redirect the conversation back to herself. He continued his eye lock, and I was completely mesmerized. Then he brought up the topic that made my stomach drop.
"Is that letch, Father O'Conner, still at HSS?" he inquired.
I froze, my sandwich turning to sawdust in my mouth. Did he know anything or was this just a purely random question? He wasn't smiling now.
Eager to reclaim his attention, Anita answered, "Probably. But after graduation, my family started to attend Mass at Loyola College's chapel, since Lee wants to go there after St. Ig's. "
Michael didn't reply. He was still waiting for my answer.
"I don't know, um, since I haven't been to Mass there since graduation," I said, looking down at the table.
He stared off into the distance for a moment, humming.
"Gabe hasn't been back since then either." His eyes swung back to me.
I could feel tiny sweat beads forming on my forehead and I pretended to casually wipe my face with a paper napkin. Then he abruptly closed the subject.
"Are we ready to go?" He smiled again.
"Yeah, thanks, Mike. We'll have to do this again," Anita chirped.
The corner of his mouth tugged down a bit as I realized he didn't like the shortened nickname. Anita was oblivious, still trying to secure a familiarity with him. She was relentless, making sure she got into the car next to him again.
"We should drop Kate off first as her house is on the way to mine."
I felt like our childhood friendship had been blown to smithereens in just one afternoon. Welcome to the world of high school, I thought ruefully.
With an ugly satisfaction, I heard Michael reply, "Actually, I have to stop somewhere else afterwards, so it will be easiest for me to go past your house first, Anita." He smiled warmly at her, as if to ease the sting.
"Oh, okay then," she replied.
I thought I saw her mouth turn into a bit of a pout. Michael was letting her down gently, as he left me in the car to walk her to her door, charming her with his smiling face. As he turned from her front door and started walking back toward the car, the adrenaline kicked in as my mind started racing. What would he ask me now? My brain kept playing a fantasy clip of being locked in his arms, kissing him. Lunch sat like a rock in my stomach. He'd think I was disgusting if I'd done anything to hurt his brother.
Stop, enough! I told myself, taking a calming breath as he opened the driver's side door and slid back into his seat. I knew Anita would be glued to a window, watching us, so it was a relief when he immediately put the key in the ignition and drove off. It wasn't far to my house, walking distance really, and neither of us had said a word since leaving Anita's.
My mom's car was gone, so at least I wouldn't have to explain being in a car with a boy. We pulled into a vacant parking spot and Michael draped his right arm across the back of the seat. Since he didn't get out of the car, I thought he was waiting for me to get out on my side. When he realized I was moving away, preparing to get out, he took my hand that was closest to him. My mouth popped open as I turned to look at him in surprise. He smiled at my confusion and tilted his head as if he were assessing the situation. I froze and started to edge toward the passenger door. Except for the snowy weather on that long-ago day, the setting was much too similar to my frightening ride home from the ice rink with Sonny.
"Relax, Kate, I'm not going to kidnap you," he said gently. "I just want to talk to you alone before you go inside. It was a little difficult while Anita was here."
My selfish heart exulted. I was a bona fide horrid person. He softly tugged at my hand and leaned closer.
"I nearly didn't recognize you today, you know? I guess I was still thinking of you as a little kid, remembering you from HSS. You look amazing."
I thought I was going to slide off the seat onto the floor. A tsunami of perspiration was rolling down the back of my neck.
"You're probably going to think that I'm awful for asking you this, but I need to know."
My heartbeat hammered in my ears. Here it comes, I thought. 'Are you and Gabe still going together at all?' Now he was the one looking flushed, and I knew he was as embarrassed to ask me as I had been to think about it. What was I going to say? Be honest, stick to the truth, my mind chanted.
"We're not," I started slowly. "I haven't seen or heard from Gabe since the beginning of June, so I would say that's a no."
My eyes must have contained a hint of sadness. He mulled over my answer, trying to decide what to say next.
"I don't know whether this is right or wrong, but I do know that I'd like very much to see you again. How would you feel about that?"
Little black dots flashed, and for a moment I thought I was going to either puke or pass out right there. He tilted my chin up with his finger so that I had to look at him. Deep breath, idiot, don't act like a baby, I told myself silently.
"I think I'd like that very much."
His mouth spread into a broad smile. He seemed relieved.
"Can I call you, then?" he asked.
"Yes," I whispered softly.
Why was I so petrified? I'd fantasized about this for years, just like every other girl who'd ever set eyes on Michael. Would my mother even let me go out with him? There was only two years difference between us, the same as between Etienne and me, but she could make a big deal out of it when she saw the size of him. I would have to have a plan.
Michael moved easily out of the car, coming around to open my door and walk up the steps to the porch with me. I felt awkward at the front door. Did he expect me to kiss him? Would he try? It felt better to see that he acted a bit unsure of himself.
He held the storm door open for me to go inside and said quietly, "I'll call you soon.....and you can tell me all about that Canadian vacation." Then he turned and left.
Glad that the house was both quiet and empty, I took the stairs two at a time and flung myself across my bed in exultation, marveling at the fact that HE acted shyly in front of ME. I'd never seen him like that before. What was this power that I apparently had now? And how else could I use it? Laughing, I hugged myself, rolling back and forth across the bed like a lunatic. Then I remembered Anita. What would I say to her? I didn't want to lose my best and closest friend over this. Was it worth that?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE -- The Plan
I said nothing over the next couple of days; nothing to Anita and nothing to my mom or Nan. Oddly, Anita didn't say much about her performance at The Crease either. Whether she felt badly about it or didn't care, I wasn't sure. Anyway, nothing mattered unless Michael actually called me. Maybe he was just playing, with no intention of calling. The worst part was that I didn't know if he planned to say anything to Gabe, whom I still hadn't heard a word from. Maybe he'd moved on, as Anita called it, and felt that after all this time, there was no reason to say anything to me. I still couldn't figure out why he'd done something like that. But then was this something I should be doing? Wait, I told myself.
Plenty of distractions were going on at school. Class officer elections were next week, basketball tryouts and Community Service League sign-ups. The elections held no real interest for me, as I didn't even know the girls who were running very well. Basketball was cool, but I wasn't sure I wanted to commit to all the practice time, even if I did manage to make the team. But unless I wanted a big blank space under my name in the yearbook at the end of the year, I had to join something. Community Service couldn't be that bad, and it would always be a good thing to have under my belt when college application time came in the distant future. And on the plus side, there were one or two joint CSL projects that included some of the boys' high schools. Anita wanted to try out for chorus. I would not be doing that since I had the worst singing voice ever. So, I signed up for CSL.
My only real academic challenge was going to be algebra. I absolutely loathed it. And although I was passing the quizzes -- barely -- it required way too much study time for such a paltry return. I was close to needing a tutor.
The phone rang at home the following week, just as I was finishing dinner. Nan reached for it before I could get out of the chair and away from the table.
"Fitzgerald residence," she answered. Her eyebrows arched as she handed the phone to me. "Kate, it's for you. A boy named Michael Kelsey?"
Mom looked up at that.
"Thanks, Nan," I mumbled, as I walked into the living room with the phone. "Hello?"
"Kate, hi. It's Michael. How's everything?"
I laughed nervously, "Well, except for algebra, everything seems fine so far."
"Ah, not a fan of mathematics, huh?"
"No, I detest it."
"Mmmm. Well, I was calling to see if you still wanted to do something together. Do you think your mom would let you go out with me or am I a dangerous older boy?"
I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Actually, I haven't asked yet. I'm still trying to figure out how to do this. Her big thing is going to be me being in a car."
"Maybe we should do something that doesn't require a car, then?"
"Any suggestions?"
There wasn't much to do within walking distance of my house.
"Well, you mentioned that you weren't getting along too well with algebra, and math is actually my strongest subject. How about some 'tutoring' sessions at your house? Maybe if I hang around enough for her to get to know me, she'd feel more comfortable about letting you go out with me?" He was enjoying this now.
"You may have hit upon something that will work. Let me bring it up with her tonight. Call me back tomorrow and I'll let you know."
"Sounds good. Maybe Friday night? It's the last Friday I'll be free for awhile. Football season's starting and the team will own me."
His voice was a tad sarcastic, but he suddenly lowered it as if to keep anyone from overhearing him.
"I've missed you, Kate."
My pulse raced in response to the simple sincerity in his voice.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," I whispered.
Of course, the Spanish Inquisition was waiting in the kitchen, so I walked in ready to hatch my plot. They were both going to try to sound innocently interested.
"Who was that, Kate?" mom asked with forced casualness.
"It was Michael Kelsey. He goes to St. Ignatius. I need some serious help in algebra and Sister recommended that I get some tutoring. He's a whiz at math and is coming over Friday to help me with it."
Genius! I felt like I had just pulled an Anita. Don't ask if he can come over... just tell her that he is! I waited while she mulled. Nan's eyebrow was up again, waiting too.
"Well, I have to meet him, of course. Is he any relation to Gabe?"
I'd hoped to avoid that. She was developing an uncanny sense of knowing exactly when to be interested in what I was saying.
"He's Gabe's brother."
"Really? That's so nice. I haven't seen Gabe for quite awhile. Is everything okay between the two of you?"
I shrugged. "He's probably just as busy at Calvert Hill as I am at CGI." I definitely didn't want to get into this now with her. "We're just going to hang out here and study, mom. It's no big deal."
That seemed to satisfy her. She hadn't asked his age, but it was only a temporary reprieve. When she saw him, she would probably freak. I'd have to lay a little more groundwork before Friday night. Not tonight, though. Nan kept out of it, which was good. I wanted to save her for when I needed backup.
Mom didn't wait long to resume her line of questioning, joining me at the breakfast table on Friday morning. Although I was trying to get out the door to catch the bus for school, I still needed to prep her a little more.
"So Gabe's brother is coming over tonight to help you with algebra?" she started.
"Yeah, and please call him Michael, not Gabe's brother. I'm not doing well at all in algebra, so anything has to help at this point."
"You said he goes to St. Ignatius? What year is he in?"
"He just started his junior year."
Her brow knitted, "Kate, he's a lot older than you."
"That's not fair, mom. He's the same age as Etienne, and he's helping me with math, not asking me to marry him!" I retorted defensively.
No matter what I said, there would be no way to prepare her for his actual physical size.
"I guess if it's just to study," she trailed off.
"I gotta go or I'll miss the bus."
I kissed her cheek, picked up my book bag and walked out the door. Fridays at school always had a celebratory undertone, everyone ready for a break. The weather was getting cooler, and the leaves were falling. It was perfect prep football weather. As I walked to the bus stop, I heard footsteps rushing behind me, crunching leaves. I turned and saw Anita, hurrying to catch up with me.
"Hey, wait up!" she yelled, trying to catch her breath.
"Hi, what have you been up to?"
"A lot of chorus practice and I'm trying to write some stuff for the school paper. What about you?"
"Not a lot. Signed up for CSL and trying to keep up with homework assignments."
Anita grimaced. "Yeah, it's ridiculous. I think it's a plot to keep us busy during the weekends." A mischievous look came over her face. "Are you doing anything after school today?"
Crap. Did she mean right after school or tonight?
"Well, my math scores have been stinking up the place, so my mom is making me do some extra credit stuff tonight," I lied.....kind of.
"Not tonight, dummy. I mean right after school."
Puzzled, I replied "I don't have anything in particular scheduled. Why?"
She grinned like a Cheshire cat, like my best friend from HSS, which I still wanted her to be.
"Are you up for a little excitement?" she teased.
With no clue, I replied, "Maybe....what did you have in mind?"
"The TGIF at The Crease!" she said excitedly.
She was her old self again in full force. I stopped short, even though we were within sight of the bus stop, and in danger of missing it.
"TGIF? Anita, there are always so many older guys there. Do you think they would even let us in?"
"Kate, do we look like freshmen?" she laughed.
We heard the bus motor laboring up the hill and broke into a run. We barely made it, and sank into our seats, panting.
"So are you up for this, or too scared?" she baited.
"Not scared, just not sure. Okay, a little scared. I mean, some of those guys are almost in college."
"Don't be such a baby. We're just going to have some fun, not sell our souls."
Always such a danger addict, she delighted in constantly pushing the envelope.
"Come ON! It'll be cool. You know you've always wanted to see what it was like there on Friday afternoons."
She was right about that. Ever since we started at CGI, the bathroom buzz was dominated by the juniors and seniors gossiping about the various TGIF's.
"Okay, but I HAVE to be home before seven o'clock, or my mom will have the FBI out looking for me," I laughed.
"No problem. Call your mom after last class and tell her you're going over to my house for dinner. She'll still be at work and then you'll be covered. Meet me at the school steps after school. We'll just have to transfer to the bus that runs by The Crease."
My admiration for Anita's capabilities went up several notches. She had obviously given this some thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX -- TGIF
The glacial passage of class time was unbearable. I could feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension growing in my gut as dismissal approached. Even math wouldn't bother me today. We shot out of our seats at the bell and hurried to our lockers. Then we hopped onto the bus and were on our way.
"This is going to be so cool," Anita said breathlessly.
"I hope so, but I also hope the guys there won't be that much older than us."
"Scared?"
"A little, aren't you?" I asked.
"Nah. What's the worst that could happen? We meet some guys and maybe widen our dating pool."
I shook my head at her.
"You make it sound like a hunting foray, Anita."
She turned toward me with the devilish look that I'd missed so much since the day of the football scrimmage. The bus rolled to a stop about a block away from The Crease and we hopped off. The music pulsed louder as we drew closer, and the place was packed. We pushed our way inside, tossing our book bags in the pile just inside the door. Anita threaded us through the crowd. As we moved past some of the older kids, I kept catching a whiff of something I didn't recognize. Loud laughter punctuated the music, which was different from the kind of pop stuff we listened to. The driving bass was visceral with a dark edge to it. It made me feel like a human sacrifice being led into the jungle.
"Anita, what's that smell?" I asked, close to her ear so she could hear me over the music.
"What do you THINK it is, Kate?"
Now I did feel like a little kid. Was I that out of the loop?
"I don't know... that's why I'm asking you!" I retorted, irritated now.
"Its alcohol -- booze -- guys bring it and add it to their sodas."
She sounded like she was impatiently explaining something to a five-year-old. The danger quotient rose as the crowd thickened with older boys. I swore I could feel hands touching me as we pushed through the crush of bodies. Anita grabbed two cups off the table and moved to a knot of boys.
"Hey guys, this is my friend, Kate. Kate, this is Billy, John and Bruce. They're friends of Lee's." She seemed so much more comfortable with this than I did.
"Billy, can you give us some?" She handed the cups to him. He glanced around, scanning the crowd and then pulled a small bottle out of the inner pocket of his jacket. He twirled the cap off and poured some of the liquid into the cups, handing them back to Anita. She handed one to me and then took a gulp of her own. She grimaced at the taste and the older boys laughed at her response.
Grinning, she looked at me then and said, "Go for it, Kate."
They were all watching. It smelled gross, but I took a big mouthful and swallowed. My throat burned like fire and I coughed, screwing up my face. Anita rolled her eyes as the boys laughed even harder at my reaction.
"Just drink it. The first taste is the worst," she urged.
Lifting her cup again, she finished off all of her remaining drink, closing her eyes and shuddering as it went down. I followed and finished mine. Grabbing my cup, she handed it back to Billy, who filled them up again. But there wasn't any soda in them this time. It became obvious that this was nothing new for Anita. With a pained expression, she chugged it straight and then looked at me, waiting. I knew it was stupid, but I did the same, not wanting to look naïve. My throat nearly burst into flames, and I came close to gagging.
"Thanks, Billy!" Anita yelled over the music.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the area around the speakers where people were moving to the beat. We huddled near the periphery of the room. I could feel the warmth spread through me from the alcohol, I guessed, and a sense of relaxation washed through my mind. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Two older boys moved toward us and tried to say something, but then gave up trying to talk over the music. The press of bodies was making me sweat and feel dizzy. A hand slid through my elbow, tugging me away from the speakers, as I struggled to turn to see who it was.
I pulled back, and a once-familiar voice growled into my ear, "What are you doing here, Kate?"
Twisting around, I found myself face to face with Gabe Kelsey.
Stunned, I stared at him unsteadily. I hadn't seen him in nearly five months.
He shook my arm and repeated louder, "Kate, it's me, Gabe. What are you doing here?"
It was with effort that I responded, trying unsuccessfully not to slur my words. My mouth wouldn't move as fast as the words I was trying to speak.
"I'm taking you out of here," he said, nearly dragging me toward the front door.
I tried to plant my feet, to resist, but they weren't working right. Anita had witnessed our disturbance and pushed through the crowd, catching up. She grabbed my other arm.
"Gabe, what are you doing? We were dancing. Kate's here with me."
Even after not seeing him for so long, he was still beautiful in an androgynous sort of way.
"Anita, she's drunk!" he barked.
"And what business is that of yours?" she taunted, tossing her head.
Even though my head was swirling, I smiled weakly because she was saying everything that I wanted to say to him.
"It would be your business, Anita, if you were really her friend." He was angry now. It was like I was watching an interesting movie.
"I AM her friend, Gabe. I didn't ignore her for months while I messed around with the grocery store checkout girl without a word of explanation!"
She was my hero now. He glared at her because her words had found their mark, and he knew it.
Exhaling heavily, he calmed down and said, "Look, let's just get her outside for some air. She shouldn't be in here like this with all of these guys."
Anita nodded a truce, and they each took one of my arms, pulling me through the front door. It was late afternoon and the sun had nearly set. They guided me over to a bench by a storefront and I sagged to the seat.
"Kate, are you alright?" he asked, staring into my face.
"I'm okay, just a li'l dizzy." The cool air felt so good.
"We should take her home," Anita said.
"NO!" I exploded, realizing that I couldn't dare go home yet. If my mom saw me like this, I would be grounded forever.
"Let's just walk her around," Anita suggested. "We still have time before she has to be home." I could see me trying to keep myself upright on a lurching bus in this shape. An unlikely trio, we walked back and forth on the sidewalk.
"Gabe, can you go back in and get her book bag?" Anita asked. "It's the leather one with the CGI patch on the back flap." He nodded and released my arm, turning back toward The Crease. A Baltimore County police patrol car turned the corner and began cruising down the street.
Anita gritted her teeth and said, "Kate, come on. Walk normally unless you want a ride home in a police car. If we can make it to that corner, we'll turn and go into the coffee shop next to the parking lot."
I tried to look sober, and concentrated on walking as normally as I could. We turned into the parking lot just as a group of boys got out of a car, headed toward the TGIF, I guessed. My throat felt so dry. I wanted to get something to drink and then go home.
My heart dropped as the group of boys crossed the lot toward us. It was Michael. His eyes zeroed in on us and his pace quickened, closing the distance in seconds.
He turned to his friends and said, "Guys, I'll catch up with you later."
They nodded and kept walking, like they saw this every week. He put his arm around my waist, supporting me, and I leaned gratefully against him.
"I've got her, Anita."
"She's a mess, huh? I don't think she's ever had anything to drink before," Anita laughed.
I tried to protest that I had peach liqueur in Canada, but what came out of my mouth made absolutely no sense. Michael turned on her angrily.
"And just who brought her here, Anita? Do you have any idea what could have happened? There are guys who come here every week, hoping for just this sort of thing!"
Stunned, she stared back at him, wordlessly. Things went from bad to worse as Gabe rounded the corner with my book bag. He stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the tableau. Michael held me closely with both arms around my waist now, his face furiously protective. I did not want to see how this would play out. I closed my eyes so it would go away, but it didn't work. Gabe resumed walking toward us and handed my book bag to Anita. His jaw was tight.
"I'll take Kate home, Michael," he said flatly.
Michael exhaled a dismissive breath, "I've got her. Just go home, Gabe."
His voice had a hard edge to it. A ridiculous picture of two rams squaring off to butt heads flashed through my mind and I laughed weakly, miserably. Gabe looked at me with a strange expression.
"Kate, do you want me or Michael to take you home?"
My mind twisted guiltily around his words, as I battled the tears that threatened. I raised my face to look at him, to answer...and vomited onto the sidewalk.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN -- The Groceries
Wanting to die, I tried to push away from Michael, for him not to see me like this. He said something to Anita, because she went into the coffee shop and returned quickly with a handful of paper napkins and a bottle of water. That was the last I remembered seeing her or Gabe. Michael gently wiped my face and mouth before setting me down on the bench. He opened the bottle of water and handed it to me.
"Drink some of this, Kate."
I kept my eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. Even if I'd tried, I couldn't have messed things up more miserably. Leaning my elbows on my knees, I covered my face with my hands. We sat there - me weeping, him rubbing my back in sympathy - as the sky got darker.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, raising my head but still not able to look at him.
Gently grasping my cheek with one hand, he made me turn my face toward his. The anger was gone, replaced with tenderness.
"You haven't done anything wrong," he murmured.
"It's my fault that you and Gabe are...."
My words trailed off as I realized that Gabe and Anita were no longer there. He put his finger on my lips to silence my apologies, and then brushed my hair away from my face with his fingertips.
Ruefully, he joked, "I think we'd better get you home before you miss your tutoring session."
We rose from the bench and walked to his nearby car. I was feeling somewhat better, steadier on my feet, and able to think a little more clearly. Michael could see the difference in my navigational abilities. As he opened the car door, he grinned, "Amazing how effective puking is, huh?"
I couldn't help but laugh, because he was right. As he walked around to the driver's side, I dug into my book bag for a piece of gum. Even with the water, my mouth felt nasty. We were going to have to hurry to even have a prayer of getting home undetected.
About the only thing going for me today was that it was Friday, mom's payday. Mom and Nan always went grocery shopping after work on Fridays. It was still going to be close.
"Michael, we have to get home before my mom comes back from the grocery store. If we get there in time, I'm going to run inside. You wait in the car until you see them pull up, and then get out and walk to the door like you just got here."
"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" he teased.
"No, I haven't. I just don't want to be grounded forever."
He laughed quietly at my seriousness as we sped down the streets toward Rexmere Road. As we pulled to the curb in front of my house, I bolted from the car and ran up the steps. Dropping my book bag on the foyer floor, I flew up the stairs to brush my teeth and change my clothing. I shook some talcum powder on my hair and brushed it to hide the smoke and whatever grossness might still lurk there. I was desperately thirsty and ran down the steps to grab some juice out of the refrigerator. Not bothering with a glass, I spun the lid off and chugged it to slake the dehydration.
The front door opened. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I slowly returned the juice to the cold shelf.
"Can I help with the grocery bags?" I chirped.
"Sure," mom said. "How was school today, honey?"
"Fine, but I'm glad the week is over."
I walked out the door and saw Michael's car still there at the curb. Seeing me come down the steps, he emerged from the car and waited.
"Whew! Come help me bring the bags in," I directed. "I think it's safe."
"Good move," he chuckled. "I'll get some brownie points straight off."
I shook my head. He always seemed to know the perfect response, but I knew the reverberations from today's events were not yet over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT -- Confession
Lugging the paper sacks, Michael and I entered the kitchen.
"Mom, Nan, this is Michael Kelsey."
Their eyes flashed toward the clock.
"I guess it's later than I thought," mom said. "Nice to meet you, Michael," she nodded. "I'd shake hands with you, but..." she lifted her arms up from separating the chicken pieces into freezer bags.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Fitzgerald." He hesitated and glanced at me, waiting. I realized he didn't know Nan's name.
"Oh, I'm sorry. This is my grandmother, Katherine Callahan."
"Pleased to meet you too, Mrs. Callahan."
He flashed that heartbreaking smile at them. We finished unloading the car and headed for the basement.
"We'll be downstairs studying," I called on our way down the stairs.
The basement was kind of rough, but it was better than having mom and Nan hovering over us in the living room. There was an old, small TV on a table, a tattered sofa, workbench, upright piano, storage area and the washer and dryer. Michael's eyes flew to the piano.
"Do you play?" he asked excitedly.
"A little," I shrugged.
His eyes lit up. "Would you play something for me?"
"Absolutely not," I shot back.
He knotted his eyebrows in disappointment. "Why not? I'd play something for you if I knew how," he said in a fake whine.
"Maybe another time. You have to realize that after what I've been through today, I am definitely not in the mood to do that."
He seemed unusually playful after what had happened that afternoon, putting his hands on my shoulders and whispering, "What are you in the mood to do?" A mischievous grin spread over his face.
"Algebra, of course."
"Of course," he groaned.
Pulling the books out of my bag, I flopped down onto the threadbare sofa. Sitting down next to me, his mood shifted, turning thoughtful.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked quietly.
He stared past me, unfocused. My stomach hurt, knowing we were going to talk about it. Michael turned to face me, abruptly serious.
"Can you tell me what really happened between you and Gabe?"
Now I was scared. Did he mean that he was going to change his mind about seeing me? I was such a selfish little coward.
"Michael, I don't understand everything that happened, but I'll tell you what I know."
Once I started, the memories poured out of me in a torrent, from sixth grade all the way to graduation. He actually smiled at some parts, like the time I'd been banished to the eighth grade boys' classroom. I had no idea how long the whole thing took, but he listened without saying a word until I got to the part about what I thought I'd seen in the sacristy. His facial muscles clenched and he turned his head away, hands balled into fists. I laid both of my hands over his, wanting to comfort him.
"Maybe I shouldn't have told you that. It doesn't prove anything, and maybe I'm wrong because I never really talked about it with Gabe. He doesn't even know that I saw anything."
He still didn't say anything, so I continued, with his brother's abrupt abandonment for the girl in the grocery store, my trip to Canada and then our accidental meeting that afternoon at the TGIF. The one thing I wasn't ready to tell him about was my encounter with Fr. O'Conner in the rectory.
"I thought Gabe had lost interest or was involved with that girl he worked with at the store. I tried to call him. Remember when you and I spoke over the phone before I went on vacation? He never returned my call. And when I saw you at the scrimmage....."
Relieved that it was finally out in the open (or nearly everything), I waited for him to digest it all. When he turned his head back around, his cheeks were damp. His hands relaxed, but I kept one of them securely in my own. Our silence was broken when the door leading to the basement steps opened and mom called,
"Kate, it's time to say goodnight."
The algebra book lay on the sofa, unopened. Michael stood up, a sad half-smile on his face, and bent down to kiss my forehead. He rested his chin on the top of my head for a moment, still silent. We climbed the stairs together, and with a gentle squeeze of his hand, he walked out into the darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE -- Dream
Saturday was excruciating. Awakening with a start, I checked my clock radio and realized that I'd been asleep for nearly eleven hours, yet I still felt tired. I dragged myself down to the kitchen and took out a container of yogurt, pulling the seal off the top. Last night's confession still floated in my head, and Michael's reaction haunted me. Nan pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Good morning," she said softly, with her eye-lasers in the 'on' position. "How did your study session go last night?"
I wondered how much she'd overheard.
"It was okay, Nan. To be honest, we didn't do much math. We talked a lot."
Her expression didn't change, so I knew she'd suspected as much.
"He's a very handsome boy, Kate. Is he really just a friend or something more?"
"I like him a lot, but at this point we're still just friends."
"Please be careful. I know you're in high school now, but you're still so young, honey."
I waited for the sixteen versus fourteen argument, but she didn't go there.
"Nan, Michael is a nice boy. He looks a lot older, I know. He always has. He was nearly six feet tall even in the eighth grade, you know, and the football stuff has bulked him up even more. But I don't think you need to worry. If I feel like I can't handle the age difference, I'll come and talk to you."
"Is there anything you want to talk about now? Gabe maybe?" she encouraged.
"No. We're just friends now."
Bang, went the lid on that box. I wondered if Gabe and I would even be friends after yesterday. She patted my hand and went back out of the kitchen. Finishing the yogurt, I tried to think of things to do until I heard from Michael, like the algebra that still hung over me. The silent phone taunted me. I picked it up several times, wanting to call him, but decided that he'd call when he was ready. By mid-afternoon all of my assignments were completed, so I turned on my radio and lay across my bed until I fell asleep.
My head jerked up at the ring of the phone, but the room was dark. Had I slept the afternoon away? I grabbed the phone and gazed groggily at the clock. It read nine o'clock.
"Hello?" I said huskily, still fighting the fog of sleep.
"Hi." It was Michael's voice, soft and quiet. "I'm sorry I waited so long to call. There was football practice, and I just needed some time to think."
"I know. It's okay."
"Can I come over tomorrow? You'll never get through algebra class if I don't do better than last night," he joked half-heartedly, trying hard to act normally.
There was no way I was going to let on that I;d done that homework this afternoon.
"Sure, I'd like that." It was quietly exciting to be talking to him while I was lying in my bed.
"Good. I'm pretty beat from practice, so I'll probably sleep late. How about one o'clock or so tomorrow afternoon?"
I wanted to ask him about Gabe, but decided to wait and let him tell me if he wanted.
"That's fine. Michael, are you okay?"
His voice tightened a little, but he said, "I'm alright. Don't worry."
"I'll see you tomorrow then?" I prodded.
"Tomorrow. Good night, Kate," he whispered.
"Good night, Michael." I hung up the phone and sank back into sleep.
For most of my childhood, I didn't dream very much. Or maybe I did, and just didn't remember it when I awakened. Tonight would be different. People and places flashed into the dream, randomly at first, but it didn't make much sense -- just images of my school, the church building, nuns, priests, Michael and Gabe. When the pictures came faster, they became more connected, flipping to make a jerky movie. Gabe's face was blurry but recognizable, and he was dressed in his altar boy's black cassock and white surplice. Mass was ending, and a priest I didn't recognize was standing at the altar, bowing and blessing the congregation. I strained to see their faces more clearly, as Gabe walked slowly toward the sacristy alongside the altar. The priest followed close behind. Just before they moved out of view, the priest turned his head and stared directly at me. Terror shot through me as the face came into focus, and I realized it was Father O'Conner. His face had a mocking smile as he followed Gabe off the altar. I fought to get out of the pew, running up the aisle in slow-motion, to save Gabe. I was crying, trying to scream a warning, but no sound came. Finally, I reached the sacristy door and pushed it open only to find the room empty, with Gabe's shredded vestments scattered across the floor.
Mom flew into my room.
"Kate, what's wrong, honey?"
My eyes were wild and my face wet. She hugged me, rocking back and forth. "You screamed! Did you have a nightmare or something?"
Disoriented, I struggled, trying to get out of bed.
"Gabe," I gasped. Mom's voice got louder.
"Kate, its mom. You were dreaming. It wasn't real!"
I stared at her dully, trying to understand.
"It's okay...just a bad dream." She stroked my hair, trying to calm me. "Would it help to tell me about it?"
"NO!" I shouted, without meaning to. God, no.
"Will you be okay now? Able to go back to sleep?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, mom. Thanks."
She hesitated and then rose from the side of my bed, leaving my door ajar as she returned to her bedroom.
I fell back onto the bed, waiting for my heartbeat to slow and my breathing to quiet. After finally saying out loud most of the things I'd kept buried for so long, I should have expected my mind to do something weird. I lay there a long time before I was able to close my eyes and sleep again. Early Sunday morning, I was grateful to see the pale sunbeams playing on the wooden floor of my bedroom. Grabbing a bagel downstairs, I walked out back to sit on the wooden swing that hung from the tree in our yard, still trying to chase away the nightmare. Michael would be here in awhile, and I closed my eyes as I swung, concentrating on the image of his face. He was so different than his brother. One was blonde, with pale blue eyes, and incredibly sweet. I couldn't deny that I missed Gabe on some level. Nan would have called it 'puppy love' or something like that. But we'd been together for years as such good friends before he tried to take it to the next level.
Michael was dark and breathtakingly handsome. Even though he'd always been so captivating, there was an edge there too. It was like an energy that danced below, always threatening to surface. I'd seen a piece of it unleashed only twice. The first time was when he turned on Anita outside The Crease, and the second had been Friday night in the basement. It only added to how helplessly attracted I was to him. Once again, I thought of Etienne's question, 'Have you ever met someone that you knew in your gut was right for you?' Any other sixteen year old boy would've already tried to get physical. And if it were Michael, this fourteen year old girl would have let him too.
Part of me wanted to talk to Nan about the emotional runaway train I was on. But if I did, I knew that she and mom would certainly bring it to a screeching halt. That wasn't going to happen if I could help it.
I sensed that this afternoon was going to be pivotal somehow. Would he see how totally in love I was with him? And once he realized that, would he lose the restraint he'd shown so far? My cautionary brain was at war with my hormone-ridden heart, and I was afraid to find out which one would win.
When I finally went back inside, I was surprised how much time had passed while I was out in the yard. Ugh, I'd forgotten to ask mom about Michael coming over.
"Mom!" I called as I ran to the stairs. "Michael's coming over again to study."
Jumping in the shower, I washed my hair and ran to get dressed.
When the doorbell chimed, I ran downstairs, but stopped before pulling the door open. Relax! What would he think if I looked all crazy? Opening the door, I saw his face break into a gentle smile.
"Hi, ready to delve into the mysteries of algebra?" he teased.
"You bet. Want to study out in the yard?"
"Sure."
I grabbed my book bag and an old blanket from the closet. Holding the corners, we fluffed it out over the grass and sat cross-legged next to each other, our shoulders touching. We went over the problems easily enough, but his attention wandered. I gently pushed his hand away from the pages and closed the book. He sighed heavily.
"Isn't there anything I can do or say to help with this?" I asked, locking his eyes to mine.
For a brief moment, an almost frightening look flashed across his face. He blushed as he fought to control it, shifting his glance downward at the blanket. If my mother and grandmother hadn't been in the house, I would've done something impulsive. The sunshine had disappeared and drips of rain began to spit from the sky. I grabbed my book while Michael pulled the blanket into a ball. We ran into the house, nearly colliding with Nan. I waved my algebra book.
"We'll have to study downstairs again unless you want to buy me a new math book, Nan."
We rushed down the steps together. I grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV for a covering noise. I didn't even get as far as the sofa to sit down before Michael reached and turned me around to face him. I closed my eyes, afraid to even look at him as my breathing accelerated. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he bent down to kiss me. I fought to keep control of myself, feeling a mixture of panic and heat. His enthusiasm started to scare me. It wasn't until I felt my back being pressed against the basement wall as he buried his face between my neck and shoulder that I started shaking and pushing back against his chest. He jerked back from me and saw the tears overflowing onto my cheeks.
His face fell. "I'm sorry! Oh, Kate, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to act like that...."
He was upset with himself, and gently began wiping my face. The scene from the rectory that I thought I'd locked away had come back with a vengeance.
"No, Michael, you don't understand, this is not about you."
He cradled my face in his hands and forced me to look at him. His voice dropped a full octave.
"Who is it about?"
I didn't want to tell him, especially after all the drama I'd piled on him just two days ago. It was as if the pin had been pulled out of a grenade, and I was trying to keep the handle pressed down.
"You have to tell me," he said more forcefully.
I put my hands over his and tried to pull them away from my face.
"Not until you calm down. Michael, you're frightening me!" I whispered hoarsely, afraid that we'd be overheard upstairs.
He exhaled sharply and moved to the sofa to sit down, but his eyes still crackled with that violet cast. He relaxed slightly, but still looked coiled, saying nothing, waiting for my answer. I didn't want to tell him, but there was no other explanation and he would know instantly if I was lying. I spoke calmly, hoping it would help pull him back from the edge.
"Do you remember when Anita and I went to The Crease with you after the football scrimmage?" He nodded, his eyes riveted on mine. "And you were asking us questions about HSS? About O'Conner?"
He nodded almost imperceptibly that time as his eyes tightened. My face was stuck in a constant hue of red as I recounted the details of the rectory visit and how the sensation of being lifted and pressed against the wall had brought it rushing back. His head dropped into his hands.
"Michael, how would you have known? Don't feel guilty for anything other than maybe being a bit too....enthusiastic, and I certainly wasn't doing anything to stop you."
"Only you would try to make it sound like it was your fault."
He smiled briefly, but I could see the suppressed anger that seemed even more serious by the amount of control he was exerting.
"Let it go, Michael. It's not worth it."
The corner of his mouth on one side curved upward as he lied through his teeth, "Yeah, you're right."
CHAPTER THIRTY -- Permission
Although he still came over on Sunday afternoons to help me with my algebra struggles, football consumed a huge portion of Michael's time outside the classroom. My life revolved around school, Community Service League, and my favorite quarterback.
Anita and I still rode the bus to school and sat together in class, but a sort of coolness had settled in since the TGIF. I had lots of casual friends at school, as well as a widening circle of Michael's friends at St. Ignatius. Gabe seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth, and I continued to feel guilty about him. We'd been so close for so many years that I couldn't help but wonder how he was doing. Michael didn't talk about him much to me, and I hesitated to stir his emotions with respect to his brother.
Mom and Nan got used to seeing Michael around the house, and he made a point to talk and joke with them on every visit. That was a good thing, because Thanksgiving was nearly here, which meant the hugely popular St. Ig vs. Calvert Hill football classic as well as the dance. Michael had asked if I would go to the dance with him weeks ago, but I waited until the weekend before to ask mom. That gave her more time to get to know him. The biggest issue was bound to be driving in his car. I was surprised when he came up with the absolute best idea.
"Kate, have you asked your mom about the dance yet? Tomorrow is the last day to buy tickets at school, so I need to know today," he asked near the end of our Sunday study session.
"I know, it's just that I've been dreading asking her. We are NOT having my grandmother drive us there!" I pouted.
"Well, I could always ask her for you. Such a little coward, aren't you?" he chuckled.
"Actually that's an excellent idea! She's much less likely to resist if she has to decide in front of you."
He laughed, throwing his head back. It was wonderful to see him so relaxed and obviously enjoying himself after the tension of the last few weeks.
"Remind me never to underestimate your manipulative abilities. Ready?" he asked.
"You mean right now?"
"Uh, yes.....tickets tomorrow, remember?"
He took my hand and led me up the stairs to the kitchen where mom and Nan were fixing dinner. They both looked up when we walked into the room.
"Hi, Mrs. Fitzgerald, Mrs. Callahan," he began, flashing that smile at them.
"Hello, Michael," they both responded. "Are you two making progress on the math?" mom added.
"Actually, I think Kate is starting to do a lot better." He sounded confident. "I want to ask you if she can go to the St. Ignatius Thanksgiving dance with me. It's on the day after Thanksgiving, so she wouldn't miss any family gatherings."
Mom and Nan exchanged glances.
"Well, I suppose that would be alright," mom answered slowly. "But Kate, I'm not sure how you would get to the dance. Nan and I are going to be over at Aunt Patty's house for dinner that night."
"That's not a problem, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I can drive to the dance. We'll be back by midnight and I promise to drive carefully."
I was biting my lower lip, trying not to giggle at his show of sincerity. She considered his words for a moment, looking at me, then Nan, then back to Michael.
"Well, Kate hasn't been allowed in cars with boys yet."
I put my silent begging face on.
"I guess it would be alright, since it's a holiday dance, and there will be chaperones at your school."
EXCELLENT! YES! My brain was doing a touchdown dance.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I'll make sure she gets home safely."
"Thanks, mom," I said with a grateful smile. "I'm just gonna walk Michael out now."
We walked a few steps away from the porch so that we weren't in clear view of the window.
"You are the devil," I scolded him in mock horror.
"Ha, that did go pretty well." He was pleased with himself. "Are you going to the game Thursday morning?"
"Duh, of course. That's the one game of the year that I wouldn't miss."
"Good. But you know I probably won't get to see you that day. The team has to be at the stadium really early and who knows how long it'll take to get out of there afterwards. Besides, my family is getting together for Thanksgiving dinner that evening. It's kind of a command performance thing."
That was no surprise, but it would still make for a very long day. What a waste of a day off from school, not seeing him.
"So, I won't see you until Friday night?" I pouted.
"Not if you turn me down to go ice skating Friday afternoon," he grinned.
"Are you serious?" I nearly yelled.
He laughed in earnest, delighted by my reaction.
"We can go to the early afternoon session and you'll still have plenty of time to get ready for the dance. It's not like you'd have to do anything to look better than you do right now."
I wanted to touch him, but put my hands behind my back for safekeeping. He glanced at the window to make sure the coast was clear and reached around to grasp one of my hidden hands, pulling it up to his face to kiss my palm. I closed my eyes, not wanting to move.
"I think I'd better go now," he said, his lips curving into that grin that I adored.
"I don't want you to go," I begged.
"I didn't say I wanted to go. I said I'd better go. You're definitely an evil influence on me."
I exhaled a puff through my nose. "Oh, right, I'm a bad influence on YOU."
He rolled his eyes upward. Was he saying that he reacted to me the same way that I did to him?
"I'll call you after I get home from the game."
He turned and walked down the steps to the sidewalk. I stood there, watching until he disappeared. When I went back inside for dinner, I must've looked like I was hypnotized. I didn't know what I was eating, as I pushed the food around my plate, while mom and Nan spoke to each other with their eyes. After leaving the table, I went up to my room, because the absolute best way to fall asleep was right after I'd been with Michael. Well, it was the most wonderful way I knew at fourteen, anyway.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE -- The Big Game
The mood at school that week was electric with excitement. The combination of a short school week with no assignments over the holiday weekend, the big football game and the dance was a heady mixture. The halls buzzed.
Anita and I had made plans to reconnect with Ellen and Missy at the game. Everybody who was anybody would be there, and I hadn't seen them in what felt like forever. The kitchen was filled with traditional aromas on Thanksgiving morning as I sailed out the front door on my way to Missy's. The stadium was within walking distance and the sidewalks of our street were already overflowing with students, parents and alumni headed to the game. We picked up Ellen and Anita, chattering nonstop on the way, catching up on all that had been going on in our lives since we last saw each other. All three of my friends were big Calvert Hill fans, so unless I wanted to sit by myself, I would be in the wrong school's seating section. Wait until I told Michael about that later.
Everyone was bundled up against the chilly November morning air as we made our way down the cascade of stadium steps. Soon the players from each team ran onto the field to deafening roars. I'd finally seen enough football games to know what was going on. Michael was the starting quarterback for St. Ig, and in his football gear he was as big as some of the linemen. I was in awe of the way he fired the ball to the receivers. Time after time, he scrambled on third and fourth downs to make up the needed yardage for a first down. It was terrible not to be able to cheer out loud for him, but I would have been evicted from the Calvert Hill seats if I had.
At halftime, St. Ig was leading by fourteen points, thanks to Michael's two touchdown passes. Missy and Ellen headed to the girls' restroom, while Anita and I went to get sodas for the four of us. We ran down the tunnel to beat the crowd, and then split to our respective destinations. The line at the concession stand was long and moved slowly. We finally made it to the front and turned to go back to our seats, carrying the little cardboard holders. As we passed near the end of the line, a familiar voice called my name. Before my eyes could locate him, a hand wrapped around my upper arm and I jerked, spilling some of the drinks. Anita turned to look for me when I wasn't right behind her. I knew without looking who the voice belonged to - Gabe.
"Hi, Kate, can I talk to you for a minute?"
I made eye contact with Anita, who waved and continued back toward the seats. What could I possibly say to him after everything that had happened?
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he said, pulling me away from the milling crowds.
"Gabe," I finally gasped.
"I know this isn't really the right place or time, but I wanted to tell you how much I've missed you." His face was sad but hopeful.
"Oh, Gabe, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you when I saw you at The Crease."
"It's okay. A lot of things just happened."
"So, how have you been?"
"Okay, I guess. And you?" He smiled but it was tinged with sadness.
"I'm surviving." All I could think of were stupid banal questions.
"Do you like it at Calvert Hill?" I asked, trying to dance away from what I was very afraid he was going to start talking about.
"Yeah, it's great. I really like it there," he commented.
"Are you going to the Thanksgiving dance?" I asked hopefully.
"I don't know yet. That's one reason I wanted to talk to you."
Oh, no. He couldn't possibly be going to say this. Why did I ask him that? I cringed mentally.
"I know I don't have any right to ask this after so long and after all that has happened, but would you go to the dance with me?"
Now what was I going to say, and how was I going to say this? I didn't understand how he and Michael could live in the same house and not know that we were seeing each other, unless he thought the math tutoring was exactly that, and nothing more. Or maybe he didn't know about the tutoring at all.
"It's really nice of you to ask me, Gabe, but I already have a date for the dance."
"Oh," he said quietly. "Well, never mind then. Can I call you? I'd like to talk to you."
This was so hard. I wanted to talk to him too, to make sure he was okay, but I didn't want him to think that I was encouraging what could not be.
"Yes, I'd like to talk to you, too." I tried to sound matter-of-fact and merely polite. His face brightened.
"Alright. Well, enjoy the rest of the game. I'll talk to you soon."
He smiled and then walked off to rejoin his classmates. I stood there for a moment, and then transferred some of one soda to equalize the amount in the cups. Now I had to get back to our seats, and I knew Anita would be waiting there with a million questions. As I neared our row, I could tell from their faces that Anita had already told Missy and Ellen about my run-in with Gabe. Anita had an 'I-told-you-so' expression on her face. She had predicted back in June that he would try to get back together with me eventually.
"So, what did he want, as if I didn't already know?" Anita asked.
Missy and Ellen leaned sideways in their seats to hear my answer.
"He wanted me to go to the dance with him tomorrow night. And he said he misses me and wants to call me to talk," I answered reluctantly.
Anita smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand.
"Well, I certainly hope you told him to forget it," Anita retorted.
"I told him I already had a date for the dance."
"I can't believe after what he did to you, and after all this time, he'd think you'd even give him the time of day," she exclaimed.
The rest of the football game went quickly and the final score was St. Ig 42, Calvert Hill 14. Michael won the MVP award and the local TV station filmed a postgame interview. I heard later that there were some college scouts there too. It was fun to watch his teammates carry him off the field in celebration, in a flying wedge of testosterone.
My friends and I walked home from the game together, with Missy and Ellen gushing that I didn't know how lucky I was to be dating Michael. They didn't have to tell ME that, but it made me uncomfortable, wondering how it made Anita feel. We hugged and promised to get together again soon. I had to say something before Anita went inside.
"Anita, I'm sorry if things didn't work out for you and Michael. I hope that you aren't mad at me, but he called and then just started coming over to the house every week....,"
She waved her hand dismissively.
"Don't worry about it. I have to admit I was ticked at you for awhile, because I wanted him to be interested in me. But I should have seen it coming, the way he was making eyes at you that day at The Crease after the scrimmage," she laughed. I hugged her.
"Thank you, because for awhile there I thought I'd lost my best friend ever," I smiled sincerely at her.
"Not a chance. Besides, now I get to see how you manage this. He's going to be a handful, you know."
"I know. I'm already having a hard time controlling myself when I'm with him."
"Be careful, Kate. He's no Gabe. Don't forget that I'm here if you need to talk....anytime."
She didn't know how much I would need to take her up on that.
We hugged and waved, and I walked the rest of the way home by myself. As soon as I got home, I heard mom and Nan chattering about how they saw Michael on television. They watched the game and saw the award as well as the interview. Apparently, he was home free now as far as they were concerned, and I doubted there would be any more begging about dates and cars.
As the three of us sat down for dinner, we did our traditional 'round table', saying what we were most thankful for since last Thanksgiving. I said that I was most thankful for my family. What a big fat lie. I loved them immensely, but there was no contest as to what I was thankful for that particular year.
Michael called after dinner. Mom made it to the phone first and gushed her congratulations over his football prowess. He was going to be unbearable now.
"Hi," I said, taking the phone from mom.
"Did you get to see the game?" he asked expectantly.
"A little. Most of the time I was busy catching up with Missy and Ellen."
"Oh," he said in a voice rife with disappointment. I knew he would refuse to brag. This was too much fun, as I rarely got to mess with him.
"We won," he offered hopefully.
"That's great! I'm really glad." I couldn't torture him any longer. I started laughing and he responded like he'd been featured on one of those TV shows that played tricks on people.
"You are so going to pay for this," he threatened.
"How?" I teased.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll think of something. So, did you have a nice Thanksgiving?" he asked. He was really leaving himself open now.
"No, actually it's been the worst," I sniffed.
"Why, what happened?" his voice changed to one of concern.
I used my best imitation of a husky voice and replied, "Because I wasn't with you."
"I think I must have done something when I was a little kid that I'm being punished for now," he sighed.
"Undoubtedly!" We both laughed together, enjoying the game.
"So, Mister Football hero, when are you picking me up tomorrow to go skating?"
"How's one-thirty, if I can break away from the adoring crowds?"
"See you then. Let's see if you can skate any better than you throw a football."
"You're impossible," he laughed. "Straight from hell."
"Somebody has to keep you in line, Michael."
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO -- Just Breathe
It had been a couple of years since I'd been ice skating. This would be the first time since the incident with Sonny, but it could be alright, since the worse I skated, the more I would get to hold onto Michael. I smirked at my own twisted reasoning and bounded down the stairs.
"Kate, do you want me to iron your dress for tonight?" Nan called from the kitchen.
"Yes, please." Our little household had been so happy lately. My mother and grandmother were obviously fond of Michael and happy that I was happy. And apart from the sadness I felt about Gabe, I was happier than I'd ever been. My life was so good that I sometimes had a hard time believing how I ever deserved it.
Glancing out the window, I saw Michael walking up the steps.
"Bye, Nan!" I yelled and skipped out the door, nearly colliding with him as he got to the porch. He caught me with both hands to keep me on my feet.
"Did you stay up all night dreaming of more ways to torment me today?" he joked.
"Just half the night," I replied.
He had a pair of men's ice skates slung over his shoulder. Drat. If he owned his own skates, it meant that he could probably skate as well as he played football. I would have to rent my skates. Once we reached the rink, we sat side by side on the bench, racing to see who would get theirs laced up first. He finished first and threw me a victory grin. I finally tied the final knot and stood up. My ankles bent inward and I grabbed his arm to keep myself from falling. His mouth quivered, trying not to laugh at me.
"Kate, um, you need to lace them a little tighter. Here, let me help." I sat back down on the bench as he knelt in front of me, pulling each row tighter and then tying them neatly. "There, try standing now." He helped me up and it was easier. I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Very mature, Miss Fitzgerald."
He took my hand and I hobbled over to the rink entrance.
"Come on, just trust me. You'll be a whiz at this after a couple of times around."
He put one hand firmly on either side of my waist and moved me in front of him. Pushing ever so slightly, he patiently explained how to move my feet and legs. After awhile, I could actually make it around the rink without falling. Every time I started to lose my balance, he steadied me. I looked like I'd never been skating before.
"Whew, I'm thirsty, and I need to take a break. Can we sit down for a minute?" I asked, out of breath from my efforts to stay vertical.
"Sure. Don't want to wear you out too much or I'll be going to the dance alone."
As the surface under my skates changed from ice to rubber flooring, I fell sideways. Michael reached for me, but I was already too far over and pulled him down with me. We pushed each other playfully, trying to extricate ourselves from our tangled legs. Flopping down on the rink bench, I marveled at his face, all pink from skating and laughing, not to mention the embarrassment of falling. His blue eyes sparkled, and he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. I hugged him and spent the rest of the afternoon in what was pretty close to my own personal heaven.
The afternoon's exertions had worn me out. After Michael dropped me off at home, I went upstairs and lay across my bed. I'd never make it to the dance if I didn't take a nap. I set my alarm clock, and called down to mom, asking her to make sure I got up before dinner. Tonight was no study session. It was the first time that Michael and I had ever been out at night together on a real date, let alone an event as big as the St. Ig Thanksgiving dance. I fell asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.
When my alarm went off, I jumped up and off the bed like I had been fired out of a gun, and headed for the shower.
"Nan, where's my dress that you said you'd iron for me?"
"Hanging on the back of your bedroom door."
"Thanks!"
The dress was about as close to perfect on me as was possible. It was ironic that the color was remarkably close to the emerald green that I'd worn years earlier to the HSS dance, where I danced with Michael for the first time, much to Gabe's displeasure. But unlike that dress, this was a dreamy silk fabric in a simple style. I spent forever on my hair until I was satisfied. My shoes had heels that added just enough to my height so that Michael wouldn't tower over me as much as normal.
I heard my mom and Nan call goodbye to me up the stairs as they left for Aunt Patty's. Scanning my odd assortment of off-brand cosmetics, I decided that less was more. My makeup expertise had improved exponentially since grade school, and I was happy with my final mirror check. So I went downstairs to wait, pacing nervously. The doorbell finally rang and I made myself walk slowly to answer it. I knew he could hear my footsteps in these heels, so I didn't want to run to the door like a kid.
He looked so handsome in an oxford blue button down shirt, striped tie and dark navy sport coat. I thought I was going to jump right into those eyes of his. Since we were there alone for the first time, his arm encircled my waist as he leaned over and whispered, "You look beautiful." His voice made me shiver. If the night was beginning this way, I wondered what could possibly be in store for me before it ended.
We pulled into the school parking lot and joined the stream of couples headed for the stone building. Students lined up to hand in their tickets before descending the stairs to the lower level. St. Ig's had a large library downstairs with tall bookcases. The floor was wooden with tables and chairs set up around the perimeter, some of them tucked back into the space between the bookcases out of necessity. There was a stage at the front of the room where the band was set up. A live band was expensive and unusual for a dance. Most schools had shifted to D.J.'s to save money. There was a big banner stretched across the stage near the ceiling that had been painted in huge letters to read 'Victory Dance', in reference to the football game. Michael's friends greeted us as he guided me toward the table that he and his buddies had staked out. Of the eight chairs around the table, only two were visible from the center floor. The rest were shielded by the darkened bookcases.
"Kate, let's put your bag here to save our seats," he said as he waved to more of his friends.
We made our way over to the table set up with cups of soda and he grabbed one for each of us. He set them down as the band started to play.
"Wanna dance?" he asked.
I nodded and he steered me over to the center floor. It was a celebratory event. Everyone was on a natural high, making funny moves as we danced in a pulsing group. After a couple of numbers, it was getting pretty warm, especially with the number of people there. Michael took off his sport coat, tossing it over to our table like a football, and then loosened his tie. Even the slow dances were innocent fun as we talked back and forth with other couples, while everyone moved around the floor. I couldn't believe how much fun I was having at my first high school dance.
The band took a break and we walked back to our table to grab a few minutes rest between sets. One of Michael's friends at the table pulled out a container and started pouring the contents into his and his date's cups. He passed it under the table to Michael. Remembering that fateful afternoon at The Crease, I looked at him doubtfully.
"Don't freak, Kate. We're only going to have one and nobody here is going to hit on you."
We giggled together as we both had the same thought -- that one person would. He filled our half-empty cups to the top and passed the container back to his friend. Raising his cup, he whispered a mock toast: "Here's to the most gorgeous girl in the room."
He was serious and his eyes intense. Although he couldn't see it in the darkness, the blood rushed across my face, and I tried to joke about his toast.
You're one crazy boy, Michael."
He smiled slowly, watching my face as he lifted his cup and took a long drink. I followed suit, expecting the same nasty taste as the last time I had anything with alcohol in it.
"Michael, what is this? It's actually good."
He laughed quietly. "It's rum with some coconut flavoring. A little different from what you had the last time?"
"I'll say."
We finished our drinks by the time the break was over, and I decided to hit the bathroom before the music started again. Michael pointed me in the right direction and I joined the flock of girls headed that way. There was a line to get in. As I waited, I felt like someone was watching me. Looking around, I didn't see anyone and gave up, shrugging it off. I thought I must be a little paranoid because of the rum. After my turn finally came, I made my way back to the table. Michael was talking to a friend, but his eyes followed my every step as I approached. It felt like he didn't want to let me out of his sight, like he was guarding me. Okay, I told myself, no more rum for you. I was thinking crazy thoughts.
As the music and the dancing went on through the evening, it felt like magic. Michael was the perfect person for me. We danced well together, which I hadn't expected. He was so strong, playfully lifting me onto the tips of my toes and whirling me in a circle. I'd never seen him so free, and having so much fun. Even without the rum, it was intoxicating and over way too soon. When the music ended, everyone was making plans to meet and grab something to eat before heading home. On the way up the stairs to the street level, I glanced around, unable to shake the feeling that someone was staring at me again.
Michael glanced at his watch as we got into his car and said, "Are you hungry? I think we have enough time to get something to eat, unless you'd rather just go home."
My stomach rumbled and he laughed in response to the sound. "I guess that answers that question."
We drove to a late night diner, meeting several other couples, and jammed ourselves into a too-small booth. Michael pulled me up onto his lap as if we sat like this all the time. When the overworked waitress brought the enormous amount of food that the boys had ordered, we fed each other French-fries. It was easily the happiest night of my life. But with curfews hanging over everyone's heads, the group soon broke up, returning to their cars to head for home. We drove to my house contentedly, Michael steering with one hand on the wheel and the other draped across the back of the seat, holding me close against him.
He pulled into a parking space that was about a half block from my house. Uh-oh, I thought. I was absolutely sick in love with him, and afraid that I would do almost anything he wanted. As he stopped the car, I slid away from him just enough so that I could face him. He slid over too, immediately closing the space I'd created. His eyes were dark, with no discernable blue, as he slid his arm behind my back and pulled me closer. He moved slowly, gauging my response, as his free hand curled around the back of my neck, gently drawing me toward his face. I tensed up, since the last time a boy grabbed the back of my neck, it was under far less pleasant circumstances.
I could hear his breathing begin to accelerate slightly as he tilted his face to kiss my neck softly. My head hurt and I was breathing weirdly, holding my breath at times. His lips travelled to my ear, then to my cheek. I was incapable of moving, as his fingertips traced a line from the back of my neck to my chin, guiding my lips to his. As he kissed me, I suddenly put my hands on the sides of his face and pulled him even closer, kissing him more thoroughly than I'd ever dared. He moved his lips to the side of my mouth and said, "Ahhh, Kate, what are you trying to do to me?"
"I'm sorry. I can't help it," I whispered, our eyes only inches apart.
I pulled his face back to mine, kissing him again in earnest. After playing out this fantasy in my head for years, I didn't care. It was impossible to let him go. He wrapped both of his arms around me and my back sank toward the seat as he leaned against me. Warning bells were clanging somewhere in my head as he responded to my eagerness. Our breathing was embarrassingly loud, and I knew that if I didn't stop soon, I'd do more than I was ready for. My voice was unsteady as I closed my hands over his wrists.
"We have to stop, please, Michael."
His eyes were still dark, and he closed them, working to control himself. We slowly regained a vertical position and stared silently at each other, allowing our breathing to slow.
"You are so dangerous," he muttered.
Without missing a beat, I replied, "Ditto."
We both laughed a little at that, breaking the tension as he restarted his car and said, "Let's get you home before we both change our minds."
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE -- Redux
Anything after the past few days was going to be a letdown, so I wasn't surprised to feel numb when I got up on Saturday morning. Friday had been a day that couldn't have been any better, I thought. Now I had to figure out how to get through an entire day and a half before Michael came over for our study session. He always made sure that we did at least some math, but it was essentially a way to get ourselves through the next week of school apart.
My mom was starting to drift back into her usual inattentive reverie, but Nan was tuned in to me far too well. I went through my chores that day in an obviously distracted state.
"Earth to Kate: anyone home?"
My embarrassed smile made it all too obvious what was on my mind.
"Did you have fun last night?" she asked.
The 'fun' part of the evening was definitely not what I was remembering.
"I did, Nan. The dance was great. It was probably the best time I've ever had."
She beamed back at me. "I'm glad. Grab this time of your life with both hands, honey, because these are the things you'll always remember."
As the afternoon dragged on, I was totally bored, listening to music. Every song with romantic lyrics was making me nuts, but I couldn't help myself. A loud knock at my bedroom door pulled me back to the present, and Nan handed me the phone without saying who it was.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Kate," A soft voice replied. My chest hurt at the sound of it.
"Oh, hi, Gabe, how are you?"
"It was good to see you at the game on Thursday."
"Yeah, it's been awhile, huh?"
I had to be careful, totally unsure of how much he knew, if anything, of my relationship with Michael. It made me feel horrible.
"Well, like I said at the stadium, I'd really like to talk to you, but not on the phone. Would it be alright if I came over?"
As much as I shrank from this, I knew that I had to do it. To put it off any longer would just wind up hurting him more.
"That would be okay."
"This afternoon?"
The sooner this was done, the sooner everything would be straightened out, I thought.
"Alright."
"See you in about an hour, then?"
"Sure, bye."
Reluctantly, I rolled off the bed to brush my hair and teeth. My face looked tired in the mirror, but I had no desire to put on makeup or change into different clothes. When I took the phone downstairs to replace it on its cradle, Nan's eyes followed me, waiting.
"Gabe's coming over in a little while," I said.
She just nodded her head and turned back to the dishes. I headed out to the yard, to my old swing where I waited, twisting. The part of my brain that should have been offering logical suggestions and explanations had shut down, leaving me totally unprepared.
When he walked out into the yard, my mouth twisted the smile I offered to him. He had his hands in his pockets and kicked at the grass as he walked over to the swing.
"Hi, Gabe."
"Kate, could we take a walk, maybe down to the park?"
"Sure."
That would probably be best, away from Nan and anyone else who might be tempted to listen. I rose from the swing and we went out the side gate. The park wasn't far, about a block, which we covered in awkward silence. Gabe walked over to a bench and sat down, waiting for me to sit too. I forced myself to look at him directly while my stomach churned in anticipation. I kept silent, letting him decide where to start.
"Have you missed me?" he began slowly.
"It HAS been awhile," I replied neutrally.
"I've missed you, terribly."
Aaaahhh, this was going to be bad, I thought.
"And I probably, no definitely, owe you an explanation for just disappearing like that."
I had to look away from his face, waiting for the pain that was zeroing in. As he began, I remembered the night in my basement with Michael, telling him everything I knew. Now it was Gabe's turn to do the same with me.
He recounted how much he'd crushed on me during our time at HSS, and how sorry he was for getting involved with the girl at the grocery store. I kept waiting for him to tell me WHY. Then he began to backtrack to the graduation dance, at how angry his brother had made him.
"I wanted to call you so many times, but whenever I worked up the nerve, Michael and I would get into another argument. And then that day at The Crease....." his voice trailed off. Tears started down my face as this just hurt too much. He was looking down now, like he was fighting tears of his own.
"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispered.
I fought the hysterical giggle that threatened to surface when he pulled out the folded handkerchief from his pocket, just like the one he'd carried back in sixth grade, to wipe the tears from my cheeks.
"I want things to be like before," he pleaded, reaching for my hand.
Why couldn't he just see me for the terrible person I was and go? What could I possibly say now that wasn't going to cause him even more pain? I knew what I was going to have to say, no matter how much I wanted to just get up and run back home.
"Gabe, I'm so sorry," I began. The words choked me as I forced them out. "But that's not possible. You'll always be my friend, but it can't be more than that anymore."
His breath sounded ragged as his hand dropped back into his lap.
"Just tell me why, Kate. You owe me that much."
His voice was stiff and I thought there was an angry undercurrent to it. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. Finish it, my brain yelled. Tell him.
"Gabe, I'm going out with someone else now."
Why wouldn't he just let it go? But I knew he wouldn't.
"Who, Kate?" His voice was a monotone. "Tell me."
For the first time in my life, I was the tiniest bit afraid of him. Now the volume began to rise as he grasped my chin, forcing me to face him. I tried to scoot myself backwards, away from him on the bench, but he just moved with me.
"Tell me who!" he demanded.
Tears surged again as I struggled to pull back from him, but it only made him lean in closer. He knew who it was. Why was he making me say it?
"Michael," I cried, slumping against the back of the bench.
All of the anger seemed to whoosh out of him as his hand fell away from my face, and the color drained from his. He stared past me now, silent, rising from the bench. Hesitating, he bent down, kissed the top of my head, and walked away. I don't know how long I sat on that bench with my face bent down into my hands, miserable.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR -- Closer
There was no escape from the numbness as I walked back home. I made no attempt at a normal countenance as I entered the house, walking past the kitchen door where mom and Nan sat at the table. I pulled myself up the stairs to my room. Sleep would have been welcome, but even that deserted me as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring vacantly. I hadn't made a conscious decision to forget Gabe and love Michael, my mind reasoned. Gabe had chosen someone else and disappeared behind a wall of silence last summer. I hadn't known what else to think, other than that our relationship had ended. Michael had waited cautiously. I had no control over my heart, but none of this gave me any consolation. Mom peeked around the door after awhile.
"Kate, is everything alright, honey?"
"Yes....no."
"Did you and Gabe have a fight or something?" She just couldn't help herself, wanting to understand.
"I just had to say some hard things to him, things that hurt."
"I'm so sorry," she added softly, sitting down next to me.
Not since childhood had I allowed myself to put my head in her lap and cry. She stroked my hair and patted my back, murmuring,
"It's going to be alright. It'll be alright."
I was grateful that she didn't ask any more questions. She could guess what had happened. Heartbreak was her specialty and it allowed her to open the door to her world. It would forever change how I felt about her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE -- Inside Out
Sunday brought some relief to my ravaged nerves as I waited for Michael to come over to study. It was the second time in as many days that I hadn't cared how I looked. The backyard swing had once again become my refuge of choice, with its rocking, soothing rhythm. The side gate opened, but I kept swinging, not looking around. Even though my legs swung out, the ropes stopped. He was holding them, turning me around toward him. It was obvious that he and Gabe had argued, or at least had some sort of confrontation since yesterday. He looked almost as bad as I imagined I looked to him, and sadness cloaked his eyes. Reaching down, he gently raised me from the swing, lifting me up into his arms. I buried my face against his chest. Rocking slowly from side to side, he rested his cheek on the top of my head, letting my anguish run its course. Finally, I quieted down and his thumbs wiped across my cheeks. Still silent, his eyes felt like a caress.
"Let's get out of here."
We walked toward the gate, and I saw mom's face at the window, exchanging a nod with Michael. He guided me to his car and I closed my eyes as he drove to Loch Raven reservoir. The weather had turned cold in earnest now, and the grounds around the reservoir were deserted. He pulled a blanket out of the trunk, wrapped it around me and pulled me into his arms. We sat there, clinging to each other, saying nothing for most of what remained of the afternoon. Finally, I attempted to start another round of apologies.
"Michael, I never meant to cause any trouble between you and Gabe. To have to choose and wind up hurting both of you, I'm just so sorry."
"He made the choice when he dropped you after graduation and then basically disappeared. Anyone would have interpreted his actions that way, Kate. How could he expect that you would just wait around for him to tire of that girl and change his mind? And I don't think any of us knows exactly what happened between him and that disgusting priest. He refuses to discuss it. I've tried to talk to him. But at least O'Conner won't be preying on any more little kids now. You did nothing wrong and there is no reason for you to continue blaming yourself."
"Was it really bad when he came back to the house yesterday?"
"Yeah, I've never seen him that way before. He looked like he wanted to kill me, that I'd stolen you away from him."
"Oh, God, I'm....."
"Kate, stop. Do not say that you're sorry one more time, unless you're sorry that you ever met me." His eyes probed, wanting me to actually respond to that.
"I'll never be sorry for that," I whispered, and he hugged me closer.
My mind backtracked as I realized what he had said about Fr. O'Conner.
"What did you mean about O'Conner not preying on any more little kids?"
"He was transferred."
"Where did they transfer him?"
"He's the Prefect of Discipline at St. Ignatius now," he said in a tight voice.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX -- Couples
With the Christmas holidays approaching, prep football season wound down. St. Ig's had a 6 and 1 season. Michael was disappointed that they'd fallen short of a perfect record, but I knew he'd be eager to rectify that next season. All the local papers gave his performance glowing reviews all season, and were already anticipating his senior year. He had everything, it seemed: athletic abilities, ruggedly handsome good looks, and brains, yet he was still well-grounded.
There would be a few sport-free weeks before lacrosse season began. As ignorant as I'd been of sports just last year, I felt like a fountain of information compared to many of my female peers. I'd read so many newspaper articles about the games that I couldn't help but become knowledgeable. Michael was tickled that I could actually argue with him about football. The only real problem we had was keeping our physical relationship under control. Like most 17 year old boys, it didn't take much to turn on the heat. And I certainly was no pillar of responsibility. Fortunately, most of the time, we both sensed when to put on the brakes. We tried to go places and do things that wouldn't leave a lot of time to sit in the car before my curfew. Since mom had given me so much leeway as far as dating was concerned, we were careful not to screw that up. She trusted Michael, probably more than she should have.
In order to afford the myriad things that girls my age craved. I had finally managed to get a job at the local mall, wrapping gifts for the holidays. It was a bonus that Michael gave me a ride home in the evening when my shift ended. Now we didn't have to wait all week to see each other. My job also allowed me to finally give something other than homemade gifts to mom and Nan for Christmas. I just had to figure out what to get Michael. For weeks, I'd tried to get him to make positive or negative statements about a wide assortment of things, but the way he laughed made me think he knew what I was up to. Being in a household of females didn't help either. As Christmas got closer, I decided to call Anita for help. She might be able to help me with a gift idea since her brother was the same age as Michael.
"Kate!" she said exuberantly. "And how is the girlfriend of St. Ig's heartthrob?"
"I am exceeeeeedingly well, thank you. So, are they keeping you busy with chorus practice?"
"Oh that. It was so boring that I quit already. I think I'm gonna sign up for Community Service League. At least I'll get to do something interesting."
"Anita... that would be great. It would be fun to do some stuff like that together."
"Yeah, Michael's going to think you're in league with the devil if we're both in it, you know," she teased.
"Don't be silly. He won't be like that. How's your social life....any dates?"
"Well, a couple. Nothing earthshaking, just playing the field, but I do have a date for Calvert Hill's Christmas Dance. Bet you can't guess who." I had absolutely no idea.
"Anita, with over 600 boys at that school, it would be pretty hard for me to guess that one."
"But it's somebody you already know."
"I don't really know anyone that goes there, except for...."
"Yup," she said. "We ran into each other at a football game and he asked me. You could have knocked me over with a feather."
This was certainly something I hadn't expected, although I was happy to hear that he was recovering, or at least trying to.
"Anita, I think you'll have a great time. He's such a nice guy."
"He's looking a lot hotter than in sixth grade, for sure," she joked. "Maybe you and Michael, and Gabe and I could all go out together some time?"
Now there was something we wouldn't be doing anytime soon.
"Well, I don't know how well that would work right now."
"Uh-oh, fill me in."
"I'd rather tell you in person than on the phone."
"Well, come on over. You know I can't stand not to know all the little details of your sordid life," she said with good-humored sarcasm.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN -- Ideas
That afternoon was one of the few times I'd ever seen Anita speechless. I recounted the part of the Gabe/Michael saga that she hadn't heard yet, but left out the sacristy story, as I didn't want her to ask Gabe about it in her usual straightforward manner. After a soft, "Wow!" she just sat there and stared at me for a couple of moments.
Then she recovered and said with a laugh, "You realize that you could write a book. You could call it 'Dysfunctional Dating 101'."
"Well, things do seem to be on a little smoother course these days, anyway. I didn't know if you knew that I started working a couple of times a week at the mall. Do you think you could give me some ideas for a Christmas gift for Michael? I'm really having a hard time coming up with anything that feels right. The most original thing my mom could suggest was a tie."
Anita snorted her rejection of that idea.
"I want something more personal, but not too," I said pensively. "I thought since you have an older brother, you could give me some help." She pursed her lips, thinking.
"Well, I can only tell you what Lee likes. You'd have to decide if you think Michael would like the same thing."
"Anita, I've got nothing here. Anything would help."
"Does he like cologne?"
I couldn't remember ever smelling cologne on him, and I loved the way he smelled without it anyway.
"No."
"How about some music?" she offered.
"Well, the problem is that even though I know what he likes, I don't know what music he already has."
"Clothes?"
"Too expensive for my mall salary, at least the prep stuff he wears is."
"So, basically, what do you get for the boy who has everything? Ha, maybe you could go parking with him for the whole evening. That would be a nice gift." She was incorrigible.
"I'm not saying he wouldn't like that, but I'd wind up at Planned Parenthood after that."
"Kate, I doubt that. Nobody else in high school just kisses their boyfriend, like you."
I looked at her disapprovingly. "MYOB, Anita." She tossed her hands into the air as if I was too naïve for words.
"Have you been to that new kind of avant-garde shop down near Johns Hopkins?"
"No, have you?"
"Yeah, I went there with Lee last week. They have some really different stuff. I'll bet you'd find something there."
"But I'm almost out of time, and that's too far to walk."
"Well, Lee and I couldn't stay as long as we wanted the last time, so I'll bet I could get him to go back and take us too."
"How soon do you think he could take us?"
"Hold on and I'll ask him right now." She danced over to the steps. "Hey, Lee, can you come down here a minute?"
He grunted and, after a minute or two, shuffled down the stairs, clearly annoyed at his sister's interruption.
"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.
"Can you take Kate and me to that new shop near JHU, the one with all the new age stuff?"
"No, I'm busy."
Anita smirked at his answer. "Lee, remember a couple of weeks ago when you hit dad's liquor cabinet and watered down the bourbon to make it look like you hadn't taken any?"
"You're such a little bitch," he said, scowling. She had him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT -- The Gifts
Lee climbed into the car, irritated with his too-smart sister. Anita punched his shoulder playfully and grinned.
"You know you wanted to go back, anyway."
He looked at her sourly but said nothing. The area surrounding the Johns Hopkins University campus was a mixed bag. Within a small radius were lovely homes, some not so nice, assorted student housing, apartments, an art museum, several funky little shops, restaurants and food joints to satisfy the large student body.
We pulled up to a storefront with a hand-painted sign that said 'Karma Konnection'. It was an odd place with a young, long-haired proprietor who prided himself on keeping his finger on the pulse of the youth market. He stocked lots of incense, some strange books on topics that I'd never heard of, and assorted tie-dyed clothing. Most of his sentences ended with 'man' or 'baby'. As I looked around, I didn't think there was going to be anything there to help me, until I saw a small, glass-topped display case that held an assortment of unisex wristlets made of different colored round beads. The little card in the case said they were called Karma bracelets. The different colors and designs were supposed to stand for what you wished for yourself or the person who wore them. The long-haired man had one on, and I liked the way it looked, even on his wrist. I visualized it on Michael and knew this was what I wanted, even though I wasn't totally sure that he would like it as much as I did. Each wristlet had a little tag on it showing what it represented. There was success, peace, friendship, and other stuff along those lines. Then I saw one that was supposed to bring love and strength. That was the one I wanted. The beads were dark brown with a slight red undertone, mixed with some green beads that reminded me of Nan's eyes. I paid for the wristlet and the man gave me a little drawstring pouch and a box to put them in. Anita bought some kind of incense and a holder. I showed her the bracelet and she thought it would make a cool gift. We were about to leave, when I saw another Karma bracelet on a display that was the exact violet-blue shade as Michael's eyes. It stood for love and happiness. I really didn't want to spend more money, but I had to have that one for myself.
School was out, on holiday break for nearly two weeks, but I was really busy at work as people shopped frantically. Michael was great about picking me up from work, always there waiting. There was barely any other time to spend with him until Christmas Eve.
Midnight mass on Christmas Eve was a long-standing tradition, even for Catholics who didn't attend much the rest of the year. Every church was packed that night. Mom and Nan used to go to Midnight mass before I was born, but had switched years ago to mass on Christmas Day.
Michael and I didn't even consider going to the service at Holy Sacrament, but we couldn't decide between the Cathedral and St. Ignatius chapel. The Cathedral was huge and impersonal. Most of the upperclassmen at St. Ig's went to the school's chapel for Midnight mass. It was as much a social event as it was a religious celebration, and the only reason my mom would ever allow me to be out so late.
Anyone who wanted a seat at the service had to be sure to be there before eleven-thirty. The choir sang Christmas hymns until mass began. It was a 'high' mass which just meant it was more formal and would take a lot longer than a regular mass. It was not unusual for this particular service to run until one-thirty in the morning. In addition, some of the junior and senior boys' moms served a big breakfast afterward. So it was with special permission that I did not have to be home until three o'clock in the morning, as long as I called home when we arrived at the breakfast.
Michael and I would both spend Christmas day with our families, so Christmas Eve was our time. He arrived at my house around ten o'clock that evening and we had some Christmas cookies with my family. Michael was obsessed with my grandmother's sugar cookies, and would resort to inordinate amounts of flattery to get them. She put a bunch of them in a cookie tin for him as a gift, and you'd have thought she'd given him a million dollars. My own grandmother had trumped my present.
As we went down the front steps together, Michael held my hand tightly because it had snowed the night before and they were slippery. At least the snowplows had been out to clear the streets. Every single radio station was playing Christmas carols nonstop, so we listened to them as we drove to campus. The branches of the towering evergreens that lined the drive leading up to St. Ig's chapel were coated in white, and the moon gave them a magical sparkle.
We got there in plenty of time to get a seat. The chapel was abuzz with the upperclassmen greeting each other and shaking hands. I knew the majority of his friends now and since football season Michael was a true gravitational force. When Mass concluded, we headed for the home of a fellow football teammate named Joe Lentz for breakfast. There must have been thirty or forty kids there. And it was catered -- that blew me away.
Michael saw that I was tiring after all the hours that I'd worked that week, so we said our goodbyes and headed back to his car. His gift was in my bag, and it was staying there for now. I was a little worried because I hadn't seen anything resembling a present in his car on the way to mass. Maybe he didn't get one for me. We hadn't talked about it beforehand, and I bought his simply because I wanted to. Maybe he had something hidden under the seat. He glanced at his watch, started the car and then smiled with one raised eyebrow. I was getting pretty good at reading his different smiles, and this was the dangerous one. We'd been so good lately, behaving ourselves, resisting opportunities to spend a lot of time alone together. The reservoir was on the way, and we still had plenty of time before I had to be home.
I started taking deep breaths to stay calm as he pulled his car between two tall, snow-capped trees. Perspiring, I was nonetheless afraid to take my coat off. The Christmas carols stopped playing as he pushed in a tape containing our favorite songs. He got out of the car without even looking at me. What was he doing? I wasn't getting out... it was way too cold, below freezing. I turned and saw him open the trunk for just a second, and then quickly close it. He got back into the car and put his arm across the back of the seat. The anticipation was killing me, as he hummed to the music and hugged me to his side. He was doing this on purpose, and he knew I was intrigued. I saw the side of his mouth fighting a grin as he turned slowly toward me.
"Well, aren't you going to give me my present?" he teased. Two could play at this game.
"Oh, I didn't know we were exchanging presents," I said with mock surprise.
His head lolled back, unable to control his facial expression any longer.
"You are such a terrible liar," he laughed, taking off his soft woolen coat and draping it over the seat. Reaching into the coat pocket, he pulled out a tiny box wrapped in shimmery gold paper. "Merry Christmas, Kate," he whispered, putting the box into the palm of my hand. He watched my face carefully while I pulled the paper off. Opening the lid revealed a gleaming silver necklace with an intricately designed silver heart hanging from it. It had an old-fashioned design over the entire heart that I didn't remember ever having seen before. It was beautiful, and he could tell from my expression that I loved it. He took it from my hand and said, "Let me," as he placed it around my neck and deftly fastened the clasp. I kept touching it, running my fingertip over the design.
"Oh, Michael, it's beautiful," I murmured and leaned in to kiss him.
It was a careful kiss, like he was holding back. I opened the zipper on my bag and took his gift out.
"Merry Christmas, Michael. I had a hard time figuring out what to get you, but I hope you'll like it."
His face was impossible to read as he opened the box and then the small bag. He turned the beads over in his hand until the moon illuminated them. As he switched his gaze to my face, he put it onto his wrist.
"Did you realize what colors the beads are?" he asked.
Unsure of what he was getting at, I said, "I bought them for what they're supposed to represent....love and strength....and I just thought they'd be colors you'd like," I stammered.
He wasn't smiling, and his eyes had that edge lurking behind the violet hue. A sensation washed over me, like being hypnotized, but still awake, as he put his lips against my ear.
"I like them very much, because they're the exact colors of your hair and your eyes," he breathed.
It was a dangerous dance. He had one hand around my waist and the other at the back of my neck, pulling me closer. He felt me tense up and quickly released it. I could sense that he was trying to control himself as he began to kiss me. I understood that if I responded too eagerly, things would accelerate. It was like torture. My uneven breathing wasn't helping as the kiss began to build. His hand began to slowly move from the back of my waist, circling to the front. He broke off the kiss, his eyes inches from mine. Slowly sliding my arms out of my coat, he let it fall on the seat behind me. He kissed me again and followed me down to the seat. Clearly, he was going to have to be the one to stop, because I was already past caring. His mouth moved down my neck and then his face turned to rest on my chest. The sensation of his breath against my skin was driving me crazy. He stayed that way for more than a few moments, willing himself to calm down before pulling us both back into an upright position. Guiltily, I mumbled,
"I'm sorry, I...."
He laughed darkly, "No, you're not."
Draping his coat over my shoulders, he started the car's engine and took me home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE -- Impressions
I enjoyed spending Christmas day with my mom and grandmother. It felt nice to be able to give mom a pretty blouse and a tube of expensive lipstick that she adored, but had stopped buying to save money. I was sure it was because of the dresses that she bought me for dances that I was going to more frequently. For Nan, I picked out a silk scarf for the plain winter coat that she'd worn for several years. It brought out the green in her eyes. The three of us shared preparations for dinner and Nan brought out a bottle of wine. I was allowed to have a glass of it too, and I fleetingly thought of the bottle of peach liqueur from Etienne that was on top of my bookshelf in my room. After dinner we sat in the living room, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to last after being out so late with Michael the night before.
"So, did you have a nice time at mass and the breakfast with Michael?" mom asked.
I knew that they were both dying to find out what he'd given me for Christmas.
I smiled indulgently. "Alright, I know you want to see what it is. What do you think?" I lifted the silver heart from under my shirt, swinging it back and forth playfully on its chain.
"Oh, let me see!" Her eyes flew wide when she looked at the heart more closely.
"Kate, do you know where this is from?" she asked in an astonished voice.
I yawned, "A store, I guess."
"This is not from just any store, honey. This is from Tiffany's. I'd recognize this design anywhere."
Other than seeing some ads in fashion magazines, I didn't know much about that store.
"This is not an inexpensive gift by any means. Be sure to be very careful with it."
I could see that she seemed extraordinarily impressed by Michael's choice of gift, shaking her head at my lack of understanding. All that I cared about was that he had given it to me and that it was pretty. I liked being able to have something touching me that was from him.
"Okay, I'm bushed....going to bed. Thank you for my presents, and Merry Christmas again."
I kissed them both on the cheek. Nan held onto my hand for a moment longer than usual.
"Remember, you promised to come and talk to me," she whispered into my ear. What was she, a psychic? I nodded briefly.
"G'night, mom. You too, Nan."
"Goodnight, Kate," they said in tandem.
CHAPTER FORTY -- New and Old
I slept for an inordinate amount of time, not waking until afternoon, but I needed it if I was going to manage to go to the Christmas dance that evening with Michael. Thank goodness the powers that be at St. Ig traditionally scheduled it for the day AFTER Christmas. The holiday week was beginning to feel like an endurance contest. Mom and Nan were at the kitchen table, eating lunch. Breakfast was long past, but they were still finishing off the morning pot of coffee. They both laughed lightly when I sat down in rumpled PJ's with my hair sticking out in several different directions.
"The walking dead," mom intoned as I grinned lazily at her. "Are you sure that you're going to make it to the dance tonight?" she asked doubtfully.
"If I had to go right now, then no."
My eyes refused to open fully, and I laid my head onto my forearms on the table.
"Having so much fun is a lot of work, huh?" Nan said with playful sarcasm.
"Ummm."
Mom rose from the table and poured some orange juice into a cup and slid it toward me. Nan looked at her and lifted her mug.
"One of these days, our Kate will realize why coffee exists."
Actually, I wished that I did like the taste; it seemed like most people's antidote of choice for fatigue.
Mom considered her remark for a second and then ventured, "You know, if you don't like the taste, it isn't bad mixed with milk and sugar. Would you like to try a cup? There's a little bit left."
I was tempted, but not on an empty stomach.
"Maybe later, mom."
Michael's heart still hung from the necklace. Nan always said not to sleep in jewelry, but I wasn't taking it off for anything.
"That truly is a beautiful necklace, Kate," mom said admiringly.
I absentmindedly played with it.
"Yeah, I really like it." I flinched as the phone rang harshly nearby.
Nan picked up the receiver, and I didn't need to ask who it was.
"Hello, Michael. Did you have a nice Christmas with your family? Yes, we did, thank you. Hold on just one moment."
She handed the phone to me. Normally, I left the room when I talked to him on the phone, but I was just too tired.
"Hey, hi." I smiled instinctively at the sound of his voice. He sounded nearly as tired as I felt.
"Yeah, I just might have to go back to sleep. This past week is kind of catching up with me now." I stifled a yawn.
"I'm calling to give you a little heads up," he said.
"A heads up about what?" I asked warily.
"Well, before we leave for the dance tonight, I want to stop by my house and introduce you to my mom. She wants a photo op," he chuckled indulgently. I groaned.
"Then I'm going back to bed so I don't look like you dragged me in from an alley."
"Alright, go back to bed sleepyhead. I can see I'm not going to get any intelligent conversation out of you right now. Around seven o'clock tonight then?"
"Uh-huh."
"I'll see you later."
"Bye, Michael." Putting down the phone, I rose from the chair. "I'm going back to bed, still tired," and yawned again.
I managed to sleep another three hours or so. When I woke up, I still felt tired. This was ridiculous. Now I was tired from sleeping TOO much. I swung my legs out of bed and walked to the bathroom, hoping that a shower would help. The warm water felt so good. I washed my hair, but turned the handle so that at the very end, the temperature would plunge briefly to shock me. Wrapping a towel around my head and my thick robe around the rest of me, I went downstairs and rummaged in the refrigerator for something to eat. My stomach was complaining bitterly, so I made a sandwich and grabbed a caffeinated drink.
My body slowly responded to my efforts to revive it, and I glanced at the kitchen clock. Nearly five o'clock. Mom drifted into the kitchen.
"Kate, why are you eating that? You won't want your dinner!"
"Sorry, mom, I can't help it. I'm starving. And I have to go up and start getting ready."
This was the first dance that I hadn't planned what I was wearing in advance. Mom's salary wouldn't allow for a new dress every time I went to one. Flipping through my modest rack of clothing, I pulled out a deep plum number. It wasn't really new, actually a hand-me-down from a cousin -- one of Aunt Patty's older daughters. It had been in my closet for a couple of months, and I hadn't even tried it on yet. It wouldn't be so terrible to wear one of the dresses I'd worn before if I had to, but I pulled that one on over my head to see if it would work. Smiling, I realized that the neckline curved in a way that framed my new necklace perfectly. The dress fit fine, and that was a relief. I bet that my cousin had only worn it once, because it looked brand new to me.
Now I had to try to do something with my face without benefit of a Hollywood make-up artist. I managed to cover the under eye circles pretty well, and the dark lighting in St. Ig's library would be more forgiving than the florescent bathroom fixture. A little eye shadow and a double coat of mascara helped a lot. Finishing my usual marathon predance preparation, I walked downstairs just as the bell rang. I opened the door and Michael looked so good in the dark suit he had on. Glancing at the necklace resting at the base of my throat, he smiled broadly. It was obvious that this pleased him immensely. He raised his hand and I saw that he had on the wristlet I'd given him. I wouldn't have thought that he'd wear it with a suit, but it actually looked good in an offbeat kind of way.
Mom came into the foyer and looked like she was going to cry, so she put the camera up in front of her face and took a picture of us. Nan leaned against the doorway of the living room, unnoticed, taking it all in.
"Don't you both look nice," she offered.
My head snapped around. I hadn't seen her and I blushed that she had seen the way we'd been looking at each other.
"Have a nice time, and be careful," she said softly.
I felt a twinge as I recognized what she was really saying. She didn't know how right she was.
Michael and I reached for each other's hand at the same time, like we were tuned into the same wavelength, and walked to his car. We were going to stop at his house first and hoped that we could avoid any awkwardness with Gabe.
"Does your mom have reddish-blonde hair?"
"What? No, her hair is dark, like mine."
"Did your Dad?"
"No, why are you asking?" he said quizzically.
"It's just so strange that you and Gabe look so completely different."
The puzzled look on his face disappeared.
"Oh, I see what you're getting at. I guess you didn't know. Gabe's adopted," he explained.
It clicked. That's why they looked so different. The hair color, complexions, body build, height, and so on.
"Wow, that's really nice that your mom would do that."
He shrugged matter-of-factly.
"Well, I don't know any of the details."
He said no more about it as we pulled up to his house.
I was nervous, hoping that his mother would like me. I wondered if our age difference mattered to her. Michael could see me fidgeting.
"Relax, Kate. She's going to love you."
He took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. We walked to his door, which opened just as Michael reached for the handle. His mom pulled it open, smiling, and I saw instantly where his looks had come from. She had the same dark, curly hair, just much longer, and those violet eyes. I smiled back, hesitantly, as Michael propelled me through the door into the foyer.
"Mom, this is Kate Fitzgerald. Kate, this is my mom, Michelle Kelsey."
Now he sounded a little nervous, waiting for her reaction.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kelsey." I said, smiling.
"And I am very pleased to meet you, Kate," she said, pulling me into a hug.
Michael grinned at me over her shoulder, relieved by her response. I relaxed instantly. How could I not? She was so warm and sincere.
"I was beginning to think that Michael was going to keep you all to himself," she said, scolding him playfully with her eyes.
It was obvious that his mom loved him from their easy interaction. I could see a feminine version of so many of his facial expressions.
"Come in, come in and warm up. It's freezing out there," she urged, as she led us into the living room.
It was gorgeous, like something in a magazine, with intricately patterned rugs in rich colors, antique furniture pieces and real oil paintings on the walls. Only his mom's wonderful personality kept me from feeling totally out of place. She moved to a nearby loveseat opposite a big wing chair and sat, patting the seat next to her and smiling at me again. I sat down beside her as Michael settled into the chair across from us.
"Michael has told me so much about you, Kate. I feel like I know you already."
I stole a look at him, wondering what he'd said to her. His elbow was propped on the chair's arm, and his chin rested in his hand, with the index finger touching the space between his upper lip and nose. His eyes twinkled, crinkling at the corners.
"Well, I hope they were good things," I responded hopefully.
"Absolutely," she chimed. "And he was certainly right when he told me how pretty you are."
"Thank you," I said as my cheeks colored. Michael's hand moved to cover his mouth.
"Well, I don't want to make you two late for the dance, so let me just get a picture before you leave. Do you mind, Kate?"
She picked up her camera and moved us around the room, snapping several shots.
"Okay, you two, on your way, and have a wonderful time," she sang, hugging me again and then Michael, kissing his cheek.
I made a mental note that someday soon I wanted to see pictures of him when he was a little boy. We said goodbye, waved and walked back to the car, happy that this had gone well.
"She likes you very much, you know," he said, reassuring me.
"Do you think so? She's very nice, and you look a lot like her."
"Yeah, everybody says that, so I guess it's true."
The way to St. Ig's was very familiar to me now. We repeated the entrance rituals from the Thanksgiving dance and joined his circle of friends at the same table as before. There was a different band this time, and they were so good that we only sat down during their break. Near the end of the night, I joined the female exodus to the bathroom, and waited in the now-familiar line. Why was there never a line for the boys' bathroom?
The same uncomfortable sense of being watched came again, just like at the other dance. The hall outside the restroom was visible from our table and I don't think that Michael's eyes left me until I went through the door. Maybe it was him watching me that made me feel that way, I shrugged to myself. But when I exited the bathroom, that weird feeling came again, stronger, and I looked around, trying to figure out who it was. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael get up from the table and start walking toward me, as I froze where I was standing. It was Father O'Conner, now a part of St. Ig's faculty, with his arms folded across his chest and staring directly at me.
Michael moved faster, almost breaking into a run as he saw my reaction. I don't think there was any question in his mind about what was happening. He reached my side and put his arm around my waist, guiding me back toward the table. The fury returned as he stared at O'Conner with a baleful expression, filled with hatred. On the edge of hysteria, I started to tremble as Michael pressed me tighter against his side and retreated to the darkened table. It happened so quickly that the others hadn't noticed, and no one else saw my tears as I leaned into Michael's chest.
After a few minutes, I regained control, at least enough to wipe the mascara that had migrated below my lower lashes.
"Let's go," Michael said.
The band started up again for the last set as we wove through the groups toward the steps. My stomach clutched. What if he was still there? Would Michael be able to control himself if he was? I struggled to breathe until I saw that he was no longer in the hallway. Michael's jaw was clenched hard, and I didn't need to see his eyes to know how they would look. His expression stayed that way as we walked to the car and he opened the door for me. As he climbed into his side, he exhaled noisily and sat there for a moment. Then he turned and put his arm around me.
"Kate, are you alright now?"
"Yeah, I just don't feel very well." My body felt numb as I stared out the front windshield, my mouth slightly ajar. He stroked my cheek lightly.
"I won't let anything happen to you. It's going to be okay. You're safe now."
When I was finally able to look at him, my face was contorted.
"He scares me....a lot. What am I going to do?"
Michael pulled me closer into the protection of his arms.
"You don't have to worry. If he ever tries anything, it'll be the last....." He caught himself and fell silent.
I felt like my face had been slapped hard and I jerked my head back toward him.
"Michael, don't ever think like that. He's in a position to ruin everything for you: school, your future, everything. We just have to be careful to avoid him as much as possible. You only have to get through one more year to be away from him forever."
I was right, and we both knew it. The sense of powerlessness was torturing him, but he didn't speak. Instead, he started the car, and kept his arm tightly around me, pressed securely to his side for the entire trip home.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE -- Nice Ride
Most of the remaining days of vacation were spent studying for end-of-semester exams that would start as soon as we returned to class. Michael came over to help me through any remaining issues with algebra. On New Year's Eve, we went over to his house for a change. We watched a movie, a romantic comedy of some sort. We were in the finished basement on a leather sofa that squeaked every time we moved. He was in an exceptionally juvenile mood and started making it squeak at the most inappropriate parts of the movie, until I was doubled over laughing. His mom must have heard us and called down the steps,
"Michael, I'm going to get dressed and go over to the Andersons' New Year's party for a couple of hours. Is there anything you two need before I go?"
Michael made his eyebrows go up and down and called out, "No thanks, mom. We'll be fine."
I hadn't counted on being alone with him in his house for any length of time and my expression telegraphed that this might not be a good idea at all. He knew exactly what I was thinking and smiled playfully. We watched the rest of the movie, minus the squeaking, until the front door closed upstairs and his mom left. He grabbed my hand, pulling me up from the sofa.
"Come on, I want to show you something."
Whatever it was, he was genuinely excited. He grabbed both of our coats and herded me outside toward the freestanding garage behind his house.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Yeah, I guess. But ready for what?"
"Want to see what I got for Christmas?"
He already had a car, so I didn't know why his present would be in the garage.
"Sure." I laughed at his impatience as he undid the lock and heaved one of the double doors open. He yanked my arm, pulling me inside with a huge grin to show me whatever it was that was making him this crazily happy.
My jaw dropped when I saw it: a dark blue Vespa motor scooter. I laughed and shook my head. Who gets a Vespa for Christmas in this universe? Apparently, Michael did. He swung his leg over the seat and kicked the engine alive, patting the seat behind him for me to get on. Reaching back, he grabbed my hands and wrapped them around his waist.
"Hold on tight, now. Put your feet right here and don't let go."
He maneuvered it slowly out of the garage and down the driveway, turning onto the street.
"I mean it, Kate. Hold on."
With a jerk, we started down the street, but not too fast as the narrow neighborhood streets were filled with stop signs and parked cars. After a few turns, we were on the undulating road that led to the reservoir. Once past the solitary traffic light on that road, he twisted the handle, running out the gears as we picked up speed. I'd never ridden anything other than a bicycle and was unprepared for the blast of mid-winter air. My hands locked over each other in a death grip around his waist and my face pressed against his back while my hair whipped around the edges of the eddy that his body created.
When I recovered from the initial shock of the cold, I sat up a bit straighter, but not loosening my grip around him. I closed my eyes and let my head drop back, tasting the sensation of flying. It was impossible to communicate over the combined noise of the engine and the wind. He knew I wouldn't last long in the cold, so he turned around after a few more minutes and we flew home.
Pulling into the garage, he killed the engine and helped me get off the scooter. Intoxicated by the sensation and the speed, he could see that, except for the cold, I'd liked it very much too.
"Let's get you inside so you can thaw out," he laughed.
I welcomed the warm air as we entered the house. We stood by the fireplace and leaned against each other, holding our hands as close to the flames as we dared. Once we could move our fingers again, he looked at me sideways.
"Want to see my room?"
"Is that really such a good idea?" I looked at him, gauging his mischievous smile. He huffed a laugh.
"So, you'll put your life in my hands on a motor scooter, but you are afraid to be in my room with me?"
"I didn't say I was afraid of you. I'm afraid of me," I groaned.
"I'll protect you from you. Come on."
His house actually had four different levels: the basement, the main floor, the second floor (where his mom's and Gabe's bedrooms were), and a third floor which used to be an attic, but had been converted into a very large bedroom, which was Michael's.
"Wow," I said. "I'm jealous. This is so unfair that you have all this space. You could fit three bedrooms in here."
Well, three of my bedrooms, anyway. It was an impressive set up. At one end was a large desk and lamp where he studied, flanked by a stereo system with a multitude of knobs and levers, as well as a pegged wall that was jammed with different sports equipment. He had a large bookcase filled with books and music, and a tiered night stand with his phone next to a wide bed covered in a masculine-looking fabric with several big pillows. The best part was the private bathroom just beyond the foot of the bed.
"Well, it was either me or Gabe, and since I'm older, I got dibs."
This was an opportunity not to be wasted, so I went slowly around the room to see the kinds of things he had on his shelves and hanging from his wall. I was surprised to see the art posters, and guessed that his mom probably put those there. I pointed at one of them to comment and he said simply, "Yeah, I like a couple of different kinds of art."
It was like peeling an onion. Every time I thought I knew him, something else revealed itself. Besides the usual school textbooks, his bookcase shelves were lined with so many different kinds of books. There were even several novels. I could see that he was a little anxious, waiting for my reaction.
"Nice selection of books. I might have to borrow a couple sometime."
"Sure, borrow anything you like."
Glancing over at his desk, I saw a small framed picture of me, but didn't recognize it. I walked over to look at it more closely, realizing that it was a candid shot, taken at one of the football games. And for once, it was a really good picture of me. I thought the photo looked better than I did in real life.
"Where did you get this picture? I've never seen it before." He smirked like he had gotten something over on me.
"A friend of mine brought a camera with a telephoto lens to one of the games and took it when you weren't looking."
I shook my head at him as he actually blushed at his own subterfuge.
"And just what other pictures do you have of me that I don't know about?" I asked, hoping that he didn't have any where I looked stupid.
"A couple," he admitted, smiling devilishly.
"Let me see!" I demanded.
"Nope," he said, making a little popping sound at the letter 'p'.
I frowned. "That's not very nice. How do I know what kind of blackmail material you have hidden over here?"
"Well, my favorite is the one from the TGIF at The Crease," he kidded.
I punched his arm. "You ARE kidding, right?"
He laughed loudly at the worried look on my face.
"Of course, I'm kidding." He turned and walked over toward his bed and sat down, patting the space next to him with his hand.
"Come here, Kate." Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow.
"Nope," I said, mimicking the way he had pronounced the word before. He pushed his tongue inside his cheek, making it bulge outward and then braced himself against the edge of the bed.
"Don't you dare," I warned.
Propelling himself across the room, he grabbed me and spun back over to the bed, letting us both fall onto the mattress. It only took us about two seconds to stop laughing, our smiles vanishing as the twinkle in his eyes disappeared, replaced by the dark undercurrent that always meant we were in danger of doing something we might regret later. On our sides, facing one another, he started one of his seriously slow kisses. I kissed him back for a few seconds and then broke it off when I heard a few firecrackers go off outside. He looked at me and frowned, obviously not wanting to stop so soon.
"Michael, it's almost midnight. If your mom came home and found us up here, well, I don't think she'd like me much anymore."
Sighing heavily, he sat up and ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He couldn't argue with that. We headed back down the steps and I elbowed him.
"Who gets a Vespa for Christmas, for goodness sake?"
"Actually, she got it for me to get around on when I go to college. By then, Gabe will have his driver's license, and he'll be using the car," he said in a quiet voice.
"Oh."
He could hear the unhappiness in my voice as I realized that he would be a senior next year, and then, who knew where?
"But I don't know where I'll be going to college yet. It might not be so bad. I could stay here and go to Loyola." He was trying hard to reassure me, but it wasn't working very well.
"Can we not talk about this right now?" I pleaded.
He could see the moisture building in my eyes, and tried to make light of it, wrapping me in a bear hug and kissing the top of my head.
"Stop worrying about something that's more than a year and a half away!"
A weird little half-choked giggle slipped out of my mouth, and then we both laughed at how it sounded.
"Let's go watch the mini-pyrotechnic show outside," he joked.
Pulling on our coats, we sat on his front steps and enjoyed the antics of the little kids running around with sparklers, throwing poppers at each other's feet. He turned his face to mine and whispered, "Happy New Year" and kissed me again.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO -- The Unveiling
New Year's Day had always seemed like such a waste to me, probably because I wasn't an adult nursing a hangover. I knew what I wanted to do, though. I wanted to call Anita and see what happened on her date with Gabe.
"Anita, hi, it's Kate. Happy New Year! I wanted to find out how it went with Gabe at the Christmas dance. Sorry I didn't call earlier, but I've been so busy."
"Oh, I just bet you have," she said in a sing-song teasing voice.
"Yeah, yeah, don't try to make this about me and Michael. So what happened?"
"It was surprisingly good. We had a great time. He's so different now and definitely NOT shy anymore."
I wasn't totally sure that I wanted to know what that meant, but it wasn't hard to guess, knowing Anita.
"So are you going to go out with him again?" I asked.
"Absolutely! Next weekend, in fact," she crowed.
"I'm so glad. It was painful to see him by himself for so long."
"And how was your Christmas, as if I had to ask? What did Michael give you for Christmas?"
She could be so predictable at times. Anita thrived on gossip and wanted to know every detail.
"A necklace....a silver heart on a chain."
"If it were anybody other than you and Michael, I wouldn't be able to stand the cheese here. Did he like the wristlet you got for him?"
"Uh-huh," I said in an exaggerated voice.
"Ha! I knew it. Leave it to yours truly to bail you out at the last minute. Anytime. You're welcome!" She was in rare form today. "And to show your gratitude, you can tell me how he thanked you."
Of course, I wasn't going to do that. Not a chance. She waited for me to say something.
"Oh, forget it. I'd probably do better to just use my imagination."
Anita knew I wouldn't tell her anything about that kind of stuff anyway, but she still couldn't help asking. There was one thing I could tell her.
"Hey, I'll bet you don't know what Michael got for Christmas from his mom."
"Uh, some nice sweaters and a sport coat?" she asked sarcastically.
"Not even close, smarty."
"Alright, I'll bite. What?"
"A Vespa." I just let it hang there for her.
"NO, oh my god, Kate. I absolutely despise you! I am SO jealous. This is just not fair," she complained. "Do you think he would give me a ride on it? I love those things."
"I don't know why he wouldn't. I'll ask him when I see him next week. IF I see him, with exams and all."
"Don't remind me. I'm still going out with Gabe though. The heck with studying the entire weekend."
"Don't corrupt that boy. And I will come after you if you hurt him."
A little voice in my head finished my sentence, "like I did."
"Ha!" she barked. "I don't think you have to worry about me corrupting him.....more like the other way around."
I wondered why she kept talking about him like that. Had he changed that much in just a few months?
"I gotta go. I'll see you at school tomorrow."
"Bye, Kate."
So, Anita and Gabe. What an unlikely couple, I thought. She could be such a wild thing at times and I hoped he would help balance her a little. Sometimes I worried about how ready she was to try almost anything, but I was happy that they had clicked. It made me feel less guilty.
Hanging up the phone, I heard mom's voice calling me to come downstairs. When I reached the kitchen, she was standing next to the table, which had a box sitting on it.
"This came for you yesterday while you were at Michael's."
I had no idea what it could be, but mom had a 'cat that ate the canary' look on her face, so she had to know something. The box had a bunch of foreign stamps on it, customs markings, and it was of medium weight. As I examined it closely, I saw a return address....from Montreal, Canada.
"I wonder what Emma and Henri sent? Some sort of Christmas present, I suppose. Do you know anything about this, mom?"
She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. I tore off the heavy kraft wrapper, opened the box and removed the multiple layers of cushioning around the object in the box. A long, wooden rectangle emerged with a metal toothed thing in the back to hang it on a wall. I turned it over and saw that is was a plaque with the words 'vivent joyeux, l'amour genereuseement' painted on it in a lovely script. Sucking my breath in sharply, I recognized the phrase from the wall hanging in the guest bathroom at Etienne's. There was a card in the bottom of the box. I opened it.
"Dear Kate, I trust that you are wise enough to be pursuing the gut feeling. Love, Etienne."
He had drawn a little peach in the corner of the card, and I saw that the script in his note matched the style on the plaque. That meant that he'd made it himself. How on earth did he know that I had gotten together with Michael? Mom interrupted my reverie.
"Is that from Emma's son? What does the plaque say?"
I didn't want to translate it literally for her, as she would start asking even more questions that I didn't want to answer.
"It says something that doesn't translate exactly into English, word for word. The general meaning is to live with joy and love your life. Emma had a little sign in her guest bath just like it, and I'd asked him about it."
My stomach felt warm, just remembering how he'd kissed me. Grabbing a hammer and nail from the kitchen utility drawer, I took the plaque upstairs to my room and decided to hang it on the bare wall next to my bed, where I would see it every day.
I rummaged around my desk until I found a small blank card, and sat down to write something in the way of a thank you for his gift, as well as an answer to his question.
"Dear Etienne, I am....and you were right. Thank you. Love, Kate"
I hesitated before signing with love, but I decided that it wasn't a big deal. After locating an envelope, I copied the return address from the box and asked my mom to take it with her to the post office, as I had no idea what kind of stamps it would require.
Then I pulled out my books and spent the rest of the day cramming for exams. This would be the pattern for the next four days until they were all done. All I cared about was passing algebra, especially after all the time Michael had spent helping me. Mom would get a little too curious if I failed now.
I passed.
Just as Michael had said, as soon as exams were over, lacrosse practice started, consuming his every afternoon after school. The workouts left him whipped, as a lot more running was involved than he had to do in football. The bulk he'd built up for the previous semester was pouring off every week. He looked lean and chiseled, adapting to a different skill set. My recently acquired football expertise was now useless, and I had to start all over. The rules were so different, and they were always hitting each other with their lacrosse sticks. 'Checking' was what he called it. To me, it just looked like a bunch of oversized kids in a schoolyard brawl. Lacrosse had become hugely popular, especially in the Northeast where we lived, drawing large crowds. Luckily, St. Ig's prep league game schedule worked out so that they played against some of the less powerful teams earlier in the season. Anita came to one or two games with me, but she mostly watched Calvert Hill's games with Gabe. However, she would be coming to St. Ig's campus soon, when Calvert Hill and St. Ig played against each other.
Michael had only a few months left as a junior, and the time had come to order his class ring. They were big gold rings with a dark blue stone in the center. Their year of graduation was on one side and the school emblem on the other. That also meant that Anita and I would soon be sophomores, 'wise fools' as Michael had once called it.
The weeks rolled by, rotating between classes, lacrosse games and dates. Easter would come soon, followed quickly by Michael's junior prom. I was so excited at that prospect because there didn't seem to be any other freshman at CGI who was going to a prom. Of course, this meant yet another dress to buy -- a long one -- and figuring out what to do with my hair so that it would be up off my shoulders. I definitely wanted a strapless dress, but the neckline couldn't be too low. That was a problem. Unless the fabric came halfway up to my neck, which looked stupid, my chest always threatened to tumble out.
My mom and I had become much closer. She seemed to love Michael, as if he were her own son, and fussed over him whenever he came to the house. And he loved it. I took a lot of pleasure from watching him with both my mom and his own mom. At times, I wondered if my mom was reliving her own adolescence through Michael and me, but hoping for a happier ending for us. She'd become much less distracted since last summer. It made me glad, because I needed her more now. And although I didn't know it at the time, I would need her much more very soon.
We spent at least one evening each week, going from store to store, trying to find the right combination of things all in one dress. We finally found a deep sapphire blue strapless gown that contained almost all my chest. Mom came to the conclusion that nothing was going to be perfect on all counts and she let me get it. It wasn't bad, just a little cleavage. She even took me to one of the cosmetic counters that did makeovers. I loved that the results made me look a little older.
When Anita realized that I would be going to prom, she nearly had a fit. Gabe was our age and there would be no opportunity to attend one with him until next year. She badgered me until I let her come over to see my dress. Besides, she might be able to suggest something to do with my hair.
She helped me get the dress on over my head and fasten the back.
"Do something with those boobs, will you?" she said.
"Like what?"
"Didn't your mom teach you anything? You have to bend over so you can get them into the dress just right."
When I stood back up, she started giggling. I wasn't in front of a mirror, so I was getting a little mad at her.
"What are you laughing at?" I demanded.
"Good luck going out with Michael in that dress!"
"Why, what's wrong with it?" I was getting concerned. Did it look ugly or weird?
She pulled me into the hall where the full length mirror hung. Depending on who was looking at me, they would either be impressed or disapproving. Unlike when my mom had zipped it up, smashing me in to cover everything up, I was front and center. I wasn't used to looking like this and knew that Anita was exactly right about being with Michael in it.
She laughed and said, "Now that's what I call a power dress!"
There she was again with the power thing.
Mom called up the steps, "How do you like it, Anita?"
We quickly walked back into my bedroom to take it off in case she came upstairs. I was going to have to wear a wrap or something to get out of the house in this. Anita and I were co-conspirators now. She fiddled with my hair until she managed to get it into a loose twist with just a few hairpins to secure it. She was so good at this that I asked her to come over the afternoon of prom to recreate the style.
"How badly do you want me to come over?" she asked, smiling.
I didn't know what she was getting at, but knew she was going to ask for something in exchange.
"Well, I can't do this to my hair myself, so I really do want you to come over."
"Make you a deal?"
Here it comes, I thought. Anita couldn't stay out of character for long. "What kind of deal?" I sighed.
"If I come over and help you get ready, you have to tell me everything that happens that night."
She was serious! "Anita, you're crazy!"
"Uh-huh, see, even you know that this is going to be something special," she said knowingly.
"Nothing big or much different is going to happen. He's very good about that."
"You haven't answered me," she teased.
"Okay, so I'll tell you. But if you ever tell anybody anything that I say about it, well, I'll just have to kill you." She laughed at my discomfort.
"Excellent!"
Big deal, I thought, so I tell her what a good kisser he is. I hung up my dress and closed the closet door.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE -- Revelations
This was the one lacrosse game that Anita and I could attend together. I was looking forward to seeing how Gabe behaved around me now that he and Anita were going out regularly. I hoped that we could be friends again. Any time that St. Ig and Calvert Hill played against each other, no matter what the sport, there was a big crowd. It was an intense, traditional rivalry.
Michael picked me up early before the game, so he'd have time to dress out and warm up with the team. As we rode in the car on the way to his school, I wanted to find out whether he knew that his brother was going to be there today, and to see if he had any reaction to that.
"Did I tell you that Anita's going to be here today?" I inquired.
"Then you'll have somebody to watch the game with. That's good."
"Do you know who she's going out with these days?"
"No, who is she corrupting now?"
He didn't know. Now I either had to lie or tell him, and I wasn't about to start lying to him. It would be useless anyway, because he could always tell instantly. It was worse than my grandmother's ability. He seemed interested to hear my answer.
"I thought you would know. She's been dating Gabe."
His eyebrows went up in surprise. He snorted a short laugh and muttered something I didn't quite catch, something with the word 'horn'. His tone of voice sounded almost impressed.
"What did you say?" I asked him.
His face got a little pink and I knew he wasn't going to tell me what he really said. It obviously wasn't meant for my ears.
"I said good for him"
"No, you didn't."
"Look, I'm glad he's going out with someone. He'll probably learn a lot dating Anita." He was smirking.
I punched his arm. "Michael, she's my best friend! Don't say things like that."
"Kate, grow up. You know her reputation." Now he was being all serious.
"So she's a little daring. So what?"
He stared at me, incredulous. "Well, that's a nice way to put it!"
"A nice way to put what?"
"You're serious? You really don't know?" He started to laugh, but stopped short when he saw the expression on my face.
"Michael, if you don't tell me, I'm going to.....well, I don't know.....just spit it out."
He pursed his lips for a moment, apparently deciding how to phrase his answer.
"Would you understand what I meant if I just said that she's very popular?"
"So, what's wrong with being popular?"
"I can't believe you're this naïve."
Now I was angry. He was making fun of me, I thought.
"Look, stop dancing around and tell me exactly what you mean, okay?"
"Kate, if I held up my right hand, there wouldn't be enough fingers there to count the number of guys at St. Ig's that she's been with."
I frowned, quiet for a moment.
"Michael, when you say 'been with', you don't mean....?"
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry. I thought you knew."
My face must have looked like I wasn't mentally competent. "Well, this kind of puts things in a different light. I can't believe it!"
"I wouldn't lie to you about something like that," he promised.
"Do you think she and Gabe.....?" But I didn't finish, blushing furiously at my own question.
I remembered how Anita had described Gabe when she told me they were dating. Michael was biting his lower lip now, trying not to laugh. I couldn't believe that he thought that was funny.
"Never mind. She's still my best friend. I don't care."
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR -- Knowing
As I waited near the edge of the field for Anita, I was still irritated at Michael over the way he'd acted in the car. It was true that I was absolutely appalled at his revelation concerning my best friend. She'd always been only too eager to experience all things adult, but it was still hard to believe this. Even if I thought Michael was the most wonderful boy in the world, he was still a seventeen-year-old male. One of Anita's favorite things to say was that all boys thought with a different part of their anatomy than their brains. I thought that was ridiculous, but maybe she knew a lot more than I did about them, especially in light of this news.
And thinking about the way Michael's eyes darkened whenever he wanted to do certain things with me, maybe she was right. The way I looked at boys had just taken a quantum leap.
After a few minutes, Anita and Gabe pulled up in a car with friends. I watched with different eyes now as they spilled out of the car. They were still too far away for me to hear what they were saying, but they were obviously laughing and talking, with Gabe's arm securely hooked around her waist. Anita spotted me and waved, pulling Gabe's arm with her other hand. She pointed and Gabe finally saw me. He smiled as they walked toward me, and he did look very happy.
"Hey, Kate, have you been here long?" she asked, slightly out of breath.
"Not long. Look at you two!"
I smiled, letting them know how happy I was to see them together. Anita grinned broadly and Gabe smiled, blushing. My mind said 'Yeah, I know why you're blushing, mister.' I shook my head, trying to make it stop. Anita put her arm through mine and we marched like the Three Musketeers over to the bleachers to get a seat. We walked up a few rows and sat down, watching the two teams warming up on the field. There must have been several hundred people there, scrunched into an area that was never meant to hold that many. Anita and Gabe were pressed tightly against each other sideways, their heads inclined toward each other, and Anita's arm threaded through Gabe's. I decided that I would just be glad to see both of them look so happy.
The game seesawed back and forth, the two teams trading one point leads until the final period when one of St. Ig's players scored the winning goal on an assist from Michael. For once, Gabe seemed to be at ease with his brother's larger-than-life persona at this school. Michael met us on the sidelines before going in to shower. The two brothers exchanged school rivalry remarks, playfully trading mock punches on each others' arms. Michael even smiled at Anita in a genuine way.
I'd never thought about it before, but I wondered if Michael had ever.....no, of course he hadn't. Or were they suddenly getting along so well because Gabe had finally managed to reach some milestone before his big brother, or joined some male club. God, I was horrible. Michael looked over at my face, probably wondering what I was thinking about after our earlier conversation in the car. He could see the wheels turning in my brain. I was such a stupid open book where he was concerned. He half laughed, like he was embarrassed, and then looked down at the ground before turning and jogging toward the showers.
Stunned, I stood there while a worm of unwanted suspicion made me feel a little sick. I shivered, and told myself I was being stupid.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE -- Preparations
"Kate, phone! It's Anita," Nan called up the stairs. She'd promised to come over to help me get ready for prom. I'd have to be ready by six o'clock because Michael and I were going with a group of friends to a nice restaurant beforehand.
"Hi! Are you coming over to help me with my hair?"
"Absolutely...do you want me to come over now?" she asked hopefully.
It was only four in the afternoon and I was already bathed and shampooed, having shaved my legs twice. I was so nervous that I felt the same way I had when I was four years old on Christmas Eve.....ill.
"Yes, please. I have to be ready before six o'clock."
She laughed, "Gee, we only have two hours to fix your hair and put on your dress. I don't think we'll make it!"
"Just get over here," I growled.
"On my way."
As much as I tried to block it out of my mind, the thought that Michael might have done....whatever....kept eating away at me. I reasoned with myself that he was, after all, two years older than me. And why should it matter if we hadn't been dating when he may have done it. Stop it! I wasn't going to spoil prom over some stupid suspicions. And that was all they were, the result of my overactive imagination.
Anita's feet sounded like the proverbial herd of elephants on the stairs. She couldn't get upstairs fast enough. It made me laugh, and relax a bit. She burst into my room.
"Okay, where's the patient?"
I knew I looked funny, in my robe, with big, juice-can-size curlers in my hair to give it some extra fullness.
"You should go just like that -- perfect!"
We giggled together. It was so good to have her as my best friend. Whatever her faults, there was no one that I'd rather have as my confidante. She pressed the curlers, checking to make sure my hair was dry all the way. As she turned to grab the hairpins, she noticed Etienne's plaque on the wall.
"Hey, is that something new, that sign on your wall? The one in French?"
"Yes, it was a Christmas gift from Etienne."
"He must still be hung up on you. I gotta hand it to you, Kate, juggling two guys at once. I'm impressed!"
"I'm not juggling anybody. It was just a nice gesture from a very good friend who happens to be a guy."
"Well, I happen to believe that it's next to impossible to have a guy as a very good friend. They may act like a friend, but usually are just biding their time. What does it say?"
"Live joyfully and love generously."
"Hmmm... Wasn't he the guy with the peach-flavored booze and the awesome kiss?"
"Trust me, Anita. He was just a summer fling who became a special friend. I didn't expect him to send anything. We haven't even spoken since my vacation."
"Okay, so back to your hair. You want it just like I fixed it the other day, right?"
"Right."
She gently unrolled my hair and then stopped.
"Wait. We should do your makeup first."
"Oh, right. Let's go into the bathroom. I want to use some of the stuff I got last week."
"Kate, what would you do without me?" she said in an exasperated tone.
"What?"
"Unless the prom is being held in a bathroom, you can't put makeup on under florescent lights without looking like a ghoul in natural light."
There it was again. How did she know all this stuff? She always made me feel like I lived under a rock, even though I was grateful for the things she taught me.
"Oh, okay."
She went into the bathroom and brought the stuff back into my bedroom, opening my window blinds to let more light in. I reached for one of the makeup containers and she deftly smacked my hand away.
"Let me do this. You can thank me later."
She really was amazingly good, adjusting the amounts that she applied in tiny increments until she was satisfied. She must have spent half an hour on my face.
"Am I that hopeless that it takes this long to make me look good?" I laughed.
"No, silly, this is a special night and you're going to look better than he's ever seen you look."
"Okay, you're making me feel the human sacrifice thing again, into the lion's den and all that."
"Ha! When he sees you, you're going to wish for that alternative."
She had that knowledge-beyond-her-years look on her face again. "Anita, you're just nuts."
She finished my makeup and I started to get up to go look at myself. She grabbed my arm.
"Oh, no you don't. Sit right back down. You aren't seeing this until I'm finished."
The curlers were out in a flash and she started twisting the strands of my hair into a soft up do, needing only a few strategically-placed pins to hold it in place. It only took her minutes to finish circling me and adjust a strand here and there.
"Alright, let's get you dressed." She pulled the spread off of my bed and laid it out over the floor. Then she lifted the dress on its hanger out of my closet, unzipped the back, and held it for me to step into. She zipped up the back gingerly, being careful not to snag the fabric on either side.
"Now bend over and adjust yourself the way I showed you the other day."
I stood back up and she grabbed the wrap.
"Be ready to put this on if you hear your mom coming up the steps," she grinned.
Standing in my doorway, she did a little mock bow, so I would go into the hall to see what she had created.
"Wow, Anita, I look good, don't I?"
"A lot better than good, I'd say. And remember what you promised."
I sighed, "Yes, I'll tell you all about prom tomorrow."
She stood there for a minute, like she was deciding whether to say something or not. And then she said it quietly anyway.
"You know, you might want to take some protection tonight."
"What...like an umbrella or something?" I asked.
She snorted a laugh and then looked at me, all serious.
"Not that kind of protection."
I had no idea what she was talking about, and she could see that plainly from my face.
"Honestly, Kate, I don't know what I'm going to do with you. Remember when I said good luck going out with him in this dress? Well, you might need a little more than luck."
I stood there like an idiot until I realized what she was trying to tell me.
"God! Really, Anita, I'm only fifteen!" My face was crimson.
She put her hand on my arm. "And he's a seventeen-year-old boy who thinks like a man. Where do you think you're going after prom?"
"Home. Well, maybe we'll sit in the car for awhile, but then we'll go home."
She grimaced and shook her head. "Kate, those guys rent a block of motel rooms for after prom."
I sucked in a huge gulp of air, horrified.
"How do you know that?" I breathed out.
"Not from personal experience, of course. I heard Lee talking with his friends."
My eyes were watering, and Anita grabbed some tissues.
"Don't you dare ruin my makeup job! Look, I'm not saying that Michael's planning anything. And I'm not saying that I think you would do that even if he had. I'm your friend -- your best friend -- and I don't want anything to happen to you if I can help it. Relax. Don't take it if it makes you feel that uncomfortable. I'm just offering. You know Michael better than I do."
She hugged me and rubbed my back. "Wouldn't you rather know the possibilities than be surprised?"
"Yeah, I guess so," I said hollowly. She smiled again.
"Just forget I said anything. Have a great time. I don't know what I was thinking. He probably wouldn't take you there anyway."
I felt a little better because I was sure that Michael wouldn't expect me to do anything like that.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX -- Controls
It was almost time to leave and I was grateful to Anita for helping me with everything. She glanced at her watch.
"Hey, can I stay just so I can see his face when he sees you?" She was grinning, playing with me.
"Absolutely not, because his face wouldn't be the same if you were here watching."
She kissed my cheek. "Have a wonderful time. I'm not sure that boy deserves you," she said, looking almost wistful.
"Thank you, again. I don't know how I'd look if you hadn't been here to help me. Now get out of here."
We hugged each other and then she hopped down the stairs and out the door, calling goodbye to mom and Nan. I knew they were sitting in the living room, because I'd already asked them not to stand at the bottom of the stairs. They'd seen me come down the stairs before, and it always made me feel nervous and uncomfortable. I'd even convinced them to forgo the camera session, as there would be a professional photographer at prom anyway. At the last moment, I slid the violet blue Karma wristlet on my arm, for luck.
The doorbell rang and I heard mom open the door, inviting Michael inside. She knew I was waiting and excused herself to return to the living room. My knees shook and I felt slightly dizzy as I grabbed the wrap and put it over my shoulders to hide the cleavage. As I started down the stairs, I saw Michael waiting in the foyer. His tux made him look about twenty years old and unbelievably handsome. I loved that he looked a bit nervous himself, holding the flowers that he'd brought for me. When he heard my footstep, he turned with a big smile on his face which quickly transformed as he inhaled. He looked dazzled. My heart heaved as I reached his side and he leaned down, kissing the side of my neck.
He handed me the flowers he'd brought and steered me into the living room to say goodbye to my family. I thought mom was going to start bawling. We exchanged kisses, turned and were on our way. Except for saying goodbye to them, Michael still hadn't uttered a word. His eyes didn't leave my face until he closed the car door and walked around to the driver's side. I removed the wrap and folded it over the seat, as it was a very warm evening and I definitely didn't want to start sweating.
Michael slid into his seat and turned his head toward me. His reaction was not something I was expecting. The soft, tender smile vanished as his eyebrows flicked upward. He shifted in his seat and gripped the steering wheel in silence. It caught me off guard and, with my usual naiveté, I thought he didn't feel well.
"Michael, are you alright? Do you feel sick?" I asked, alarmed.
"I honestly don't know if I can do this tonight."
What was he talking about? Not go to prom?
"Why? What's the matter with you?"
He looked pained, like he was fighting some sort of internal battle.
"Kate, you have no idea how gorgeous you look. I just don't know if I am capable of controlling myself with you tonight," he barely whispered.
"Oh." Anita had been right, once again. "I trust you, Michael."
"I'm glad YOU do," he grimaced.
I reached over and took his face in my hands, and couldn't believe that it was me saying the words.
"You won't do anything that I don't already want you to do."
His eyes flew open and he looked at me, aghast.
"Kate Fitzgerald....." he started.
"Gotcha!" I grinned. The tension evaporated as he started to laugh at how totally I'd sucked him in.
"But seriously," he tried to continue.
"Just drive, Michael." He shook his head and started the car, obviously impressed. I was pretty impressed with me too.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN -- Options
We pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant in Maryland's horse country that was owned by the family of a boy in Michael's class. The sun was setting and the servers hurried to light the candles in the windows and at the dining tables. Our group of six couples was sequestered in a small private room. I didn't understand why until I saw the waiter roll out several ice buckets of champagne. Michael was still agitated, running his fingers through his hair, like champagne was the last thing he needed. He glanced in my direction and I winked at him, noting several droplets of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. As I leaned over and whispered in his ear, to tell him to relax and that everything would be fine, I noticed that his gaze had shifted downward. That was to be expected in this dress, I guessed.
We had a glass of champagne and ordered our dinner. The owner, Mr. Fradella, came into the room to greet all of us. Recognizing Michael immediately (from football season, probably), he shook his hand warmly, clapping him on the back. When Michael introduced me, Mr. Fradella's gaze drifted south too before Michael purposely stepped in front of me. He kept maneuvering things, and actually put his water glass next to mine in front of me, building a shield to keep the other boys from staring. There was more wine with our meal and a glass of liqueur after dessert. When I sipped it and tasted the peach flavor, I laughed and set it down, thinking of Canada. Michael looked puzzled, wondering what prompted that reaction.
"Ask me later, Michael. The story's too long to start now."
We consumed about the same amount of alcohol with our dinner, but since I was much smaller than Michael, I had a little buzz. When we got into the car, I sat close to him and made him put his arm around me. He looked down at what had been the most popular view so far that night, until I lifted his chin and made him look at my face. We drove once again to the school library which had been totally transformed by the decorations committee. Special lighting gave it an almost ethereal atmosphere. It was hard to believe that it was actually a library.
Michael had shaken off his earlier mood and was back to normal, although it felt like he thought I'd break if he held me too tightly. I exerted a considerable amount of effort to keep the mood light and playful. He knew what I was doing and was grateful. I made sure that we sat at the part of the table that was not hidden behind the bookcases, and we passed on the flask that his friends circulated under cover. There must have been a lot of flasks being passed around that night, because for once there was a line at the boys' bathroom.
I never tired of dancing with Michael, surrounded by his friends. The camaraderie that they had developed over the past three years at St. Ig's was like a huge, happy family. Only once did I feel his arms tighten and his body tense, as he caught sight of Fr. O'Conner standing off to the side, chaperoning. When I had to use the bathroom, Michael walked with me and put himself between us. I saw Father staring, following me with his eyes, but was determined that he wasn't going to ruin this evening for us.
We had a wonderful time, but it had to come to a close eventually. And this was the part of the night that I was most worried about. Michael hadn't said a word about whether we were going anywhere after prom, so I waited for him to bring up the subject. After we got back into his car, he didn't start the engine, obviously mulling over something.....like where we were or were not headed to.
"I know you're not planning on taking me directly home, so talk, please."
His face got a funny, surprised look on it, but this was like a chess game and I knew he was actually glad that I'd made the opening move. I was proud of the way I'd handled everything so far. He hadn't come out and said it, but he seemed fascinated by my behavior. The sardonic smile on his lips slowly changed, as he calculated what he would say next. The single eyebrow went up and his head tilted slightly.
"Well, actually, we do have some options."
"Which are...?" It was like pulling teeth, and he was doing it on purpose.
"The easiest one would be to take you home now, early. But I don't think I'll do that." He was paying me back for our exchange in the car at the beginning of the evening.
"Or we could go park for a couple of hours." His smile was turning into a grin.
"There's a third option, I hope."
"Actually there is. One guy's family owns a bunch of cabins by the lake next to the state park. The season hasn't started yet, but it's warm enough to swim there."
He was cautious, testing, I thought.
"But I don't have my bathing suit with me."
"Who's bringing bathing suits?"
My mouth flew open. I was certainly NOT going skinny dipping with him and his friends! Was he crazy? Talk about a recipe for disaster. While I sat there fuming, he reached under his car seat and pulled out a bathing suit
"Gotcha," he deadpanned.
"That's mine! Where did you get that???"
Now he was laughing, delighted with himself.
"Well, Anita came over to help you a couple of days ago, didn't she?"
"You had this planned all along, didn't you?"
"Of course!" He leaned forward, kissing me gently on the lips, defusing my anger. "You know you want to go," he urged.
He was right about that much, but if he kept kissing me, then we weren't going to get out of the parking lot.
"Okay," I whispered.
He started the car, took my hand in his, and drove.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT -- The Lake
It didn't take that long to reach the turnoff to the lake, but I was surprised at how far back into the woods we had to drive on the dirt access road. And it was pitch black. No streetlights, just the car's headlights. The insects and other creatures screeched and buzzed relentlessly, but at least it was too early in the season for mosquitoes. After a couple of miles, I finally saw some lights ahead of us from the other cars that were pulling alongside the cabins. I could barely make out the lake, except when headlights flashed on the water's surface. Some of the boys were carrying stereo equipment, food and drinks, blankets, folding chairs and strings of lights into the cabins.
"Michael, what are they going to do with the lights?" Surely they weren't going to decorate this place too.
"There aren't any lamps in the cabins in the off season, so it helps keep us from tripping over stuff."
He got out of the car and motioned for me to stay inside. Walking back to the trunk, he went back and forth between the car and the cabin, unloading whatever he had in there. My stomach was starting to tighten, remembering what Anita had predicted. When he finally finished, he came to the passenger side and opened my door.
"Kate, don't get freaked out, but I'm going to carry you to the cabin, so you don't get any dirt on your dress."
I took a deep breath to beat back the recurrent reaction I had to being picked up, and he carefully transferred me.
"I put the blanket there for you to stand on while you change into your bathing suit. We swept the cabins out earlier this week, but I don't think that would protect your dress. Here's a flashlight, a towel, and your bathing suit. I already hung a towel over the window, so you're good to go. And no, I won't look."
. He turned the flashlight on and laid it on the floor.
"Thank you, this is very sweet, but I need you to help me unzip in the back because I can't reach it very well."
He stared at me for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if I was setting him up again. I reached my arms around to show him that I truly couldn't get to the zipper pull. I could hear his breathing behind me as he reached for it. With my back to him, I couldn't see his face so I wasn't expecting what he did next. He began kissing the back of my neck while slowly pulling the zipper downward. Brushing his lips down my spine, he kissed the trail of the zipper. I closed my eyes and arched my back in response to the exquisite feeling. Afraid to turn around and look into his certainly dark eyes, I waited, clinging to the sensation. When he slid his hands inside the dress and rested his fingers on my skin, I had to turn around. What I didn't realize was that the fabric had caught on his buttoned cuff, and I came completely out of the dress from my waist up. His eyes flew open, and I grabbed the towel to cover myself as he rocked back on his heels. I was mortified. He stood there, transfixed, with his hands at his sides, as he struggled to regain control of himself.
I mentally berated myself, thinking what a stupid thing I'd done, even if I didn't realize it would pull away from me like that.
Finding my voice, I said, "Michael, stay there. Just wait a minute until I change."
Angry with myself, I wiggled out of the rest of the dress and pulled on my bathing suit, tying the ends of the towel around my waist. Walking over to him, I took his hand and put it around my waist. When he turned, I stood on my toes to reach up and kiss him. I felt a shiver go through his body, so I pulled back from him.
"It was an accident. Forget it."
He rolled his eyes at me. "That's easy for you to say."
He seemed even more bothered by what had happened than I was.
"Then let's take a break and go get something to eat. When we finish eating, you can go put your bathing suit on and we'll take a swim."
I figured we should stay around his group of friends for awhile, for both our sakes. He took my hand, and we walked over to the main cabin where things were set up. I knew we looked comical, as he was still in his tux and I was in my bathing suit.
We put some food on our paper plates and sat down in two folding chairs. I put my hand on his forearm and gave it an understanding squeeze. After a few bites, I got up and walked over to one of the coolers, pulled out two beers and handed one to Michael. His face was priceless. It was a mystery to me where all of my self-assurance was coming from. My first sip told me that I wasn't crazy about the taste of beer, but I drank it without flinching. Michael kept glancing over, clearly wondering where the girl went that he brought to the prom.
I grinned at him and finished the rest of the bottle. He got up and threw away our plates and bottles, and then walked outside to change. I waited in the folding chair, listening to the music. A couple of minutes passed and then he stuck his head in the doorway and gestured with a curled index finger for me to come outside. I smiled and nodded, following after him. He still wasn't talking much, but I sensed that he wasn't as upset as before. We paused on the porch as he raised my wrist toward the light, touching his finger to the wristlet that I'd worn for the first time. I squashed a laugh, realizing that it had taken him this long to notice it.
"I didn't know you had one of these too. When did you get it?" he asked.
"Actually, I got it at the same time that I bought yours, but this is the first time I've worn it."
"What made you pick this shade? It's very unusual."
Smiling, I traced my finger across the top of his cheekbone.
"I chose it because it made me think of the color of your eyes."
My answer seemed to trigger an emotional response, as he slowly leaned down and kissed me lightly. He rested his cheek against mine, breathing deeply again. I took his hand, and we walked down to the edge of the lake. He stood there, flicking at the water with his toe.
"I'm really sorry about before," he began, as I put my finger across his lips, shushing him.
He gave me a brief smile and we walked slowly into the water until it nearly covered our shoulders. I reached my arms up around his neck and unleashed that Canadian kiss for the first time. He tried to be tentative and careful, but quickly curled his arms around my waist and swayed against me. The water, his lips and skin were a potent combination and I let myself sink into the lovely ache that was swirling through me. There wasn't much night left before I'd have to go home, so I let my legs float up until I could wrap them around his waist. He moved his lips about an inch away from mine, and stared into my eyes, trying to read them.
"You know I have to take you back home soon," he whispered hoarsely.
"I know. Just kiss me once more."
He crinkled his brow slightly.
"You know I'm not going to be able to stop if you kiss me like that again. Where did that come from?"
"Please, once more," I sighed.
"Jesus, Kate, what's with you tonight?" he exhaled a dark laugh.
"I love you, Michael," I breathed into his ear.
The adrenaline surge was making me woozy. He had a peculiar expression on his face, and he was plainly wrestling with his conscience. His penetrating eyes studied my face, which must have shown how far beyond control I was. I kissed him again, and there was no reluctance or caution as his arms tightened around me, responding to my irrational, overheated behavior. His hands moved to untie the neck strap of my suit, but stopped and rested on my shoulders. He pulled his face back once again.
"I love you too, and that's why we're leaving now."
He carried me back to the shore, letting me keep myself wrapped around him until we got to the car.
"Uh, I can't get you into the car unless you put your legs back down on the ground." He was half-chuckling at me now, unable to figure out my strange behavior.
"Fine. See if I ask you to kiss me again," I jokingly threatened.
It might not be tonight, but I knew I would soon.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE -- No More
Spring semester was winding down quickly after prom, and the last Community Service project of the year was scheduled for the following Friday after school. With the proceeds from this year's Fresh Air Fairs, the parishes were finalizing preparations for the summer camps that would be held. Our assignment involved registering the kids who had been selected, and handing out the information packets. Anita was psyched because it was a joint project with St. Ignatius' CSL chapter. And since Michael would be at the traditional guys-only gathering that marked the end of lacrosse season, we planned to work the event together.
We rode the bus to Anita's house where Lee waited impatiently to drive us out to St. Ig's. After he dropped us off, grumbling all the way, we still had a few minutes before setting up, so we checked out the candid photos from prom that had been posted all over the junior class' large bulletin board. They made me want to go back and have that night all over again.
"Kate, do you realize there are no less than six pictures of you and Michael here? And two of them are just of you. There should be a note here crediting yours truly as your stylist. Hmmm...somebody has obviously taken these down and made copies -- look how the edges are all creased. Someone is clearly obsessed with you or your bod," she snickered.
"Oh, stop it. There are lots of photos here."
"I'm serious! You're definitely the subject of some overheated nighttime fantasies around here," she laughed, enjoying how my face wrinkled in distaste.
"You are so terrible!"
I grabbed her arm and steered her away from the bulletin board. "Let's go. We have to set up."
We were paired with Bill and Tom Storm, identical twin sophomores from St. Ignatius. Anita took over directing them where to set up the large folding table, while I grabbed some chairs. After that, we busied ourselves hanging up the directional posters outside the building. I was glad that the two guys were here, because the campus emptied quickly on Fridays and some of the campers' parents were kind of rough looking, even though they acted nice enough. And if Father O'Conner showed up, he wouldn't dare try anything with the boys here. The main reason the registration had been scheduled at St. Ig's rather than at Catholic Girls' Institute was my school's decidedly urban location, flanked by a sketchy neighborhood.
The initial group of registrants went through smoothly enough before the lull.
"You know, I'm very disappointed in you," Anita said, leaning toward me as we sat there doodling on the extra forms.
"And why is that?" I sighed in exasperation.
"Best friends don't break their promises."
"What promise did I break?"
"After spending all that time making you look so devastating for prom, you still haven't told me all the details like you said you would," she teased.
My cheeks started burning again and she laughed at my reaction.
"See, I knew it! You have definitely got some secrets to share from that night. Come ON, Kate."
"I'm not going to tell you a thing with those two boys sitting at the end of the table!" I whispered fiercely.
She picked up one of the registration brochures and lazily fanned herself.
"I've got plenty of time today. No hurry."
"Honestly, Anita, do I ask you about your dates?"
"No, because there wouldn't be anyone remotely interesting to you apart from Michael, and you know I'm right."
And she was. "Fine...today...later," I relented.
A satisfied smile sat on her face as she looked up at the next group lining the hall. There were enough people coming now that there was a wait. The hallway was getting warm as the doors were opened repeatedly by the registrants.
I leaned over and asked, "Hey, do any of you want a drink?"
The boys pulled some cash out of their pockets and slid the coins over toward us. Anita started to reach for her bag.
"I've got this one, Anita. You can get the next one if we're here that long. Where's the machine?" I asked.
"Go to the left, past the principal's office, and then down the steps next to biology lab," Bill instructed.
"Can you guys handle this while I go get them?"
"Sure, no problem," he replied, waving me off.
I pulled a dollar bill out of my bag and swept the loose coins into my hand, pushing back from the table. Not wanting to make the others shoulder my part for any longer than necessary, I walked quickly down the hall. The wooden steps creaked noisily, and I glanced around to locate the machine. The lower hallway wasn't lit very well, but the soda vending structure's flickering dull light made it easy to find. Studying the line of drinks, I remembered that I hadn't asked what kind everyone wanted, so I just decided to get colas for everyone.
The light blinked hypnotically as I pulled out the paper bill and tried to insert it in a straight line through the opening. The machine kept spitting it back at me before finally accepting it. The change dropped noisily to the bottom opening and the can fell with a heavy clunk into the metal basin, masking the click of the lab door. I pushed the first can sideways between my left arm and side, and deposited coins for the next one. As I bent over to retrieve the can, a hand clamped over my mouth from behind, while a strong arm snapped around my waist, trapping my arms against my body. The sputtering light created a jerky, disjointed aura as the cans dropped to the floor, spinning and spraying liquid across the tile.
The iron arms jerked, pulling me backwards through the door into the science lab. The sounds I made were rendered nearly mute by the hand smashed over my mouth and nose, as a foot kicked the windowless door to the dark room closed.
I struggled, trying to breathe and resist the force that was dragging me across the room, past the rows of sink-topped lab tables. The room swirled as the arm across my midsection loosened momentarily, spinning me around, as we fell to the floor. The back of my head hit the tiled floor with a cracking sound, and my forearm sent a searing pain shooting through me as it took the brunt of the crushing force that landed on me. I twisted, trying to see the face connected to the hands that were now under my skirt, pulling at my underwear. The red hair was disheveled, and the glasses askew. Buried in my chest, his face was cloaked in a white-collared black shirt.
My scream broke through the space between his fingers, as I fought furiously with my uninjured arm to get him off of me. Rhythmic footsteps of someone running became louder and then exploded through the door. The crushing weight flew off of me, and I rolled onto my side, curling into a ball, as the room crashed noisily around me and distant sirens wailed.
CHAPTER FIFTY -- Halo
Hands touched me again, and my eyes flew open as I screamed anew.
"Kate, it's me, Michael! Don't move. You're safe."
My head hurt, and the face close to mine was blurry, but I recognized his voice. When the face started to move away, I grabbed at him to keep him close. He was pulling his shirt off to cover the rips in mine. I couldn't understand why there were other voices shouting and strange people kneeling around me. I shook my head and tried to move away from the hands.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled, as a paramedic tried to secure my painful arm. Nothing was making sense, and I just wanted to get away from these people I didn't know.
"Kate, look at me, honey."
Michael's voice was soft, and I thought how nice it was that he called me that. My mind floated all over the place. He spoke my name again, and I tried to make his face clearer.
"Listen to me, Kate. You're hurt. We need to take you to the hospital. The paramedics are going to make it so you can't move and hurt yourself more. You have to stay still. I'm going to stay with you. I won't leave."
I saw a red liquid line starting just above his eye, flowing slowly down the side of his cheek. My eyes kept going in and out of focus, but I knew I'd seen that his beautiful face was bleeding. Reaching toward it with my free arm, I mumbled,
"Michael, you're hurt."
He took my hand and kissed the back of it, holding it in both of his.
"I'm fine. Keep your eyes on me and keep talking."
My mouth made a crazy, slurred laughing sound as I thought to myself that his eyes were the only thing I ever wanted to see anyway.
"No problem," I murmured, struggling to keep my eyelids open.
That brought a small smile to his anxious face. The babble of voices started to separate into something more recognizable. I couldn't move my neck because of the collar that someone had put on it, so I shifted my eyes as far to the side as I could. I saw Anita talking to a policeman, who was writing things down. There were other police there, arms stretched across the door. Michael saw my eyes straining wildly to search the room as the slow tears drifted down the sides of my face.
"Anita called your mom. She's going to meet us at the hospital."
I tried to nod, but had to just blink my eyes. One of the policemen motioned Michael over, but I didn't want him to let go of my hand. He caught Anita's eye and gestured with his head. She came over and took my hand from Michael as I started to protest loudly.
"I have to answer a couple of questions for the police. I'm not leaving. I'll be right across the room. Anita is going to stay with you, and I'll be right back, I promise."
"Hey, prom queen, how're you doing?" Anita asked.
I tried to laugh, but it hurt. Her face was wet. I'd never seen Anita cry in all the years I'd known her. What happened that made her cry?
"Anita, what happened, was it...?"
My face started to crumple as pieces of detail danced in my head.
"Yeah... but he's sitting in the back of a police car in handcuffs. He's toast and he'll never hurt you again."
"How did Michael....his face....?"
I wanted to scream in frustration, unable to ask a simple question that made sense. But Anita seemed to know what I was trying to say.
"He called your house as soon as he got out of the lacrosse thing. When your grandmother told him you were here, he nearly killed himself racing over here in his car. He ran to our table, saw you weren't with us, and then heard you scream downstairs. Thank God he got to you before...." Her voice trailed off. She shook her head, bewildered by the turn of events, and then grinned at me.
"Honestly, you'll do just about anything to get out of telling me about prom!" I smiled, not wanting to try to laugh again. Michael came back over and, seeing my smile, flashed a grateful look at Anita. I felt myself being moved, as Michael reclaimed my hand, not leaving my side again.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE -- Healing
The warm sun and rhythmic surf made it impossible to stay awake for any extended amount of time. Whenever I managed to open my eyes, I saw Michael, lying in a too-short lounge chair that had been pushed flush against mine. The fingers of his hand were woven through mine, and his eyes were watching me.
He'd ridden in the back of the ambulance, talking constantly to keep me awake. My mom was a total mess when she got to the hospital, and Michael had been wonderful to her and Nan. Even Mrs. Kelsey was there, keeping my family's spirits up. Anita brought Gabe, who broke down and cried when she left the room for coffee. Only Michael and I knew why he cried.
They let me go home after a few days as my confusion and visual difficulties resolved. My friends wrote silly things on the cast I wore on my arm. A female police detective interviewed me and asked us to prosecute O'Conner. We agreed, but mom told them that she had to know more about what would be expected of me before allowing my testimony at a trial.
CGI waived my final exams based on my grades up until then, but Michael still had to take his. He brought his books and studied every time I fell asleep. Once I was home, I spent a few weeks being fussed over by my mother and grandmother. Michael was at the house constantly, leaving only at night when I slept. He read several novels aloud that were on my required summer reading list, so that I wouldn't fall behind. Nan sat at the bottom of the stairs, listening to his voice as he switched to a different tone for each character. His imitations of the female heroines were priceless. The funniest one was during a visit from Anita. They read "Romeo and Juliet", but switched roles.
Every week or so, the detective would call and bring us up to date on their investigation. Mom insisted that I keep weekly visits with a shrink. I found that very embarrassing, even if it was a woman. When I was much older, I was glad that I'd gone, but at fifteen, it was a difficult thing to do.
Michael's mom owned a business in Ocean City, as well as a beach house, where she stayed for most of the summer season. Once my cast was off, our two moms got together and decided it would be the best place for me to recuperate for the remainder of the summer. I would be surrounded by my support group: Michael, Anita and Gabe. Ever since last Christmas, Anita and Gabe had become inseparable, and they spent a lot of time with Michael and me at the shore. Michael originally planned to work as a waiter at Mr. Fradella's beach restaurant, but got permission to defer his job until next summer. He decided to make me his summer job, and became the most instrumental part of my recovery, spending every day however I wanted. My beach chair developed a permanent sag from the amount of time I spent in it. The physical injuries were the easiest and quickest to mend. Considering our intense physical attraction to each other, it was with extraordinary grace that Michael waited patiently for my psyche to heal before he even listened to what Anita laughingly referred to as his "lower brain". He waited on me daily, enduring the ribbing that Anita and Gabe bestowed so willingly.
I spent days dozing in that chair, eating irregularly, and trying to banish the persistent nightmares. Michael not only parked himself in the chair next to me in the sand, but slept on a folding bed which he set up outside of my temporary bedroom. When the bad dreams made their regular appearance, he sat with me until I fell back to sleep.
After the first month at the beach, life began to improve. I slept less, venturing down to the water for the cleansing surge of the surf. Sometimes Michael would hold my hand and stand with me in the waves. At other times, he sensed my need to simply be in the rhythmic salt bath alone, eyes closed and mind blank.
It was about that time that we got a phone call from the detective who'd been working the case. They'd gotten a break in the investigation, a stunning development. After conducting some interviews at St. Elizabeth's, which was the school where O'Conner had taught before being transferred to Holy Sacrament, two girls came forward. Both of them were willing to join the prosecution's effort to testify against him on charges of sexual assault. That evening, after speaking with my family, I sat on the beach in the dark with Michael.
"What are you thinking? Talk to me," he said gently.
"I don't know what to do. And I'm upset with myself for feeling this way. I mean, now there will be three of us to testify, so that helps a lot. I won't feel so alone in court, but he's going to be sitting there, right in the front, staring at me again."
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.
"And the detective said that O'Conner's defense attorney will ask me all kinds of questions; things about Gabe, and you, and anybody else that I've ever even kissed, to try to make it sound like I'm immoral."
"Kate, that's not a very long list -- me and Gabe -- and nothing worse than kissing. I can't see where he'd get very far with that."
I'd known that at some point I would tell him the details of my vacation at Etienne's the previous summer. And I didn't want him to hear about it for the first time in a courtroom.
"Well, there was one other person, when I was in Canada last summer," I began.
He smiled, remembering my phone call before I left on the trip.
"I remember talking to you on the phone and telling you some French Canadian was going to sweep you off your feet. You said you doubted it because one of the few things you could say in French was to ask where the bathroom was."
I turned and looked at him, amazed.
"Michael, what the heck did you do, record our phone conversation? How can you remember that?"
He looked at me with those eyes and said, "I remember everything about you."
Tired from the long day and the emotions surrounding the trial, I burst into tears. When that happened, he went crazy.
"Kate, I'm so sorry...what did I say, or do? I don't care if you kissed a thousand guys before I met you. What's wrong? Can I hold you? Please don't cry!"
I nodded my head and tried to tell him that I did want him to hold me. I started hiccupping like crazy, and laughing while I was still crying. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. I simply extended my hands and said, "Yes."
It was almost comical, as he wasn't sure of anything....how closely to hold me or how tightly, so he kept checking to make sure I was okay with whatever he was doing at the moment. When I calmed down enough to get more than two words in succession out of my mouth, I turned to him.
"Stop talking. Just hold me. I'm crying because I'm tired, stressed, and you just said something incredibly sweet. You didn't do anything wrong, so relax. And I need to tell you everything about what happened in Montreal."
So we sat there on the beach, me talking and finally allowing him to hold me for the first time in nearly three months. He listened to it all...the outdoors, the wolves, the sculpture, the infamous peach liqueur incident, the kissing....and the only thing that I thought he wasn't happy about was the Christmas gift, until I told him the story behind it.
"You know, I hate to admit it, but I kind of like this guy, Etienne," he remarked when I was finished.
"He's the one who told me to pursue a relationship with you. Do you realize that?"
"No kidding? How?"
Now he was really interested, so I told him the part about knowing in your gut that someone was right for you, and how Etienne had mentioned Michael indirectly in his note at Christmas.
"Do you remember when I kissed you in the lake after prom, and you asked me where that came from?"
"I get it, I get it. Don't tell me about it. Just tell me why you waited so long to kiss ME like that," he said, sulking.
It was a little embarrassing when he said it like that.
"Well, I was saving it for something special. And as crazy as things got nearly every time we went out, I thought it wouldn't have been a good idea to do it casually."
He was quiet for a moment and then asked,
"Do you still like him? Would you kiss him if you saw him again?" I'd never heard him sound so insecure.
"I like him as a very special friend. And no, I wouldn't kiss him now. I happen to be in love with someone else."
He tilted his head and kissed my cheek. I snuggled comfortably in his arms, where I belonged.
The next morning, I asked Michael, Anita and Gabe to sit and talk with me. I had so many thoughts and fears swirling in my head about testifying, that I needed to get their input to make a decision. Gabe was understandably nervous, probably thinking that I was going to ask him to take the stand against Fr. O'Conner. But I wasn't going to do that. The elementary school boys had tormented him so much, that I couldn't stand the thought of how a bunch of high school boys would act if it got out that he'd been molested by a priest, even if it had been just one time. And I'd already begged Michael not to ask him to, for just those reasons. There were already three of us to testify. One more person wouldn't make any significant difference. Anita was adamant about being there with me and she would testify if needed. She hated Fr. O'Conner for what he'd done. Michael was of the same mind as Anita. He would definitely be called to testify as he was the first one on the scene and was a material witness. Gabe wanted me to do whatever I felt I had to do.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO -- Re-entry
Michael and I began taking walks up and down the beach, early in the morning and after sunset. He was remarkably quiet, watching and waiting for my cues. And as much as I wanted that painfully lovely summer to never end, the school year would be resuming soon, and the trial would start.
We spent the last week at the beach doing things with Anita and Gabe. It felt good to interact normally with another couple, especially with Anita. It was not in her nature to be careful, so I'd been pretty impressed with how she acted over the summer. Mostly she just listened to my erratic ramblings and withheld judgment.
One night during that last week, Anita and I sat shoulder to shoulder on a foldaway bed out on the screened porch. Gabe and Michael had gone to the store, so it was just the two of us. She had her arm draped around my shoulder and we both had our legs crossed over the mattress.
"So, are you ready to return to the real world?" She asked quietly.
"I guess, but I'll miss this place. Michael's mom couldn't have picked a better way for me to spend this past summer," I mused.
"You know, at some point you're going to have to actually do more than hold Michael's hand, if you want to put last year completely behind you."
Anita's uncharacteristically soft voice was pushing me into an area that I'd avoided for most of the summer.
"Yeah, I know. He's been really patient, but I can tell he misses that part of our relationship."
"Ha! He could've spent the summer in the seminary for all that he's been getting from you. Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to..." She quickly backtracked from her reference to the priesthood.
Everyone had been walking on eggshells around me for months, and it really wasn't necessary any longer.
"It's okay. Forget it, Anita. I can't just totally erase certain words from my vocabulary. You can stop trying to be so careful all the time. It's better for me if everybody acts normal again."
She was silent for a moment.
"Hey, I've got an idea. You and Michael haven't been down to the boardwalk all summer. Let's all go together... our farewell tour or something. We only have 3 more days before we have to go home for school. "
"Actually, that might be a good idea. I need a little normalcy and I know Michael must be going stir crazy. Do you know if they'll be back from the store soon?"
"Any minute now, actually."
"Anita, can I ask you something?"
I felt like we were reversing roles. She was always the one who wanted to know the details of my relationships.
"Sure. Ask away."
"Well, have you ever done, you know, with a boy?"
For a moment, I didn't think she was going to answer that question. Actually I knew that she'd already done that, and with more than one boy, but it seemed a nicer way to lead into what I really wanted to know.
"Why are you asking?"
My face flushed furiously.
"I just wondered what it was like."
"That's a pretty broad subject, you know. It's both different and the same, depending on whom you're with."
"How do you mean?"
"If you're with someone who hasn't done that before, it will be different than with someone who has. And I'm sure you realize that not all guys act the same, whatever they're doing. If you're just doing it for the physical fun of it, there's a difference than if you're totally sick in love with someone. I mean, there's no short answer to that question!"
"Are you and Gabe, uh, like that?"
She giggled finally, "Yes, Miss Nosey."
"Do you think I'm stupid because I haven't done it yet?"
Her face turned serious. "No. You have to do what's right for you. I could've waited longer, but I didn't want to. Some people think that makes me a bad person, but it was my decision. I don't think people should be defined by that. Boys aren't, and I won't be either."
Anita had always been so fearless and self-assured. Part of me wished I could be too.
"Have Michael or Gabe ever talked about things like that with you?"
"Neither of them has ever said anything to me about it. Why are you asking me all these questions? Are you thinking of making some kind of change in your relationship with Michael? If you are, we need to talk, because I'm not prepared to be in your shotgun wedding! "
"Don't worry, you'll be the first to know," I groaned.
As usual, there was no better person to consult than Anita when it came to questions about sex.
"Can I ask you something about Michael, too?"
Ever since the day that Michael told me about the extent of Anita's reputation, I'd wondered about his past experiences with girls. He already knew that before him the only boys I'd ever even kissed had been his brother, Gabe and Etienne. But I'd never asked him. I wondered if it was because I was afraid of what I might find out.
"Anita, I was wondering, uh, how much do you know about Michael? I mean, like girls he's gone out with before me."
She looked at me with that raised eyebrow that I hadn't seen for months. Was she hesitating because she didn't want to tell me something? That wasn't like her.
"Well, if I'm hearing both levels of your question correctly, I think I know most of that part of his history," she began carefully.
What did she mean, 'both levels'?
"In his freshman year at St. Ignatius, he had a couple of dates. God knows the girls at St. Mary's Prep were competing for his attention. I think he dated two or three of them, strictly one-date-deals. There was only one girl that he dated more than that."
She hesitated and gazed at me carefully. This was SO un-Anita-like. But as my best friend, I knew she too wondered how much of this I wanted to know.
"It's okay, Anita. I just feel like there's this two-year window where I don't know much about him." Not a lot of St. Ig news filtered back to Holy Sacrament after Michael graduated.
"Okay, then. The girl's name is Melanie Morrisey, but everybody calls her 'Muffy'. I got most of the information from Lee, for whatever that's worth. She's into what some kids call 'trophy boyfriends'. She goes after whoever the newest, hottest guy happens to be. Loves to snag one and then parade him around until the next challenge comes along. Michael caught her eye when they were both sophomores, and according to Lee, she would've done anything to get him."
"Michael was on the JV football team that fall and Muffy made sure she was there at the first game. She took the seat directly behind the players' bench and really zeroed in on him. After the game, she waited for him to come out of the locker room. The word was that she asked HIM out the first time. I mean, Muffy is gorgeous, so it's not an exaggeration to say that Michael was flattered enough to say yes. Apparently she didn't waste any time staking her claim. The joke around St. Ig was that if you wanted to locate Michael, all you had to do was look for the car with the completely steamed up windows. It lasted about three months and then, all of a sudden, they stopped seeing each other. I don't know which one of them pulled the plug, but it was pretty abrupt. The only thing I'm not sure of, is how far they actually went."
We heard the front screened door bang shut and the guys' voices as they made their way back to the porch where Anita and I were sitting.
"Guess what? We're all going out together tonight. So each of us has exactly five minutes to do whatever to get ready and then it's down to the boardwalk," Anita announced.
Both of the guys were surprised and Michael looked especially pleased. Anita and I hopped off the bed and went to change into fresh clothes. It didn't do much good to brush your hair down the ocean, because the constant breeze took about two minutes to demolish anything other than a ponytail.
We piled into Michael's car to drive down toward the boardwalk. The beach house was out by the dunes, so the distance was too far to walk. Gabe was an arcade freak and I think he would've played every game he saw, if he hadn't been with Anita. She, on the other hand, was addicted to haunted houses. I wasn't ready to tolerate any loud, sudden noises or screams, so Michael and I got one of those tall soft-serve ice cream cones with chocolate jimmies and sat on a bench to wait for them.
"So, what made you decide to go out tonight?" Michael asked.
"I probably should've done it sooner, but I just felt ready. Anita and I were talking about some stuff while you and Gabe were at the store. She suggested it and it sounded like a good idea. Besides, I was afraid that you were about to go insane with boredom," I giggled.
The loveliest look came over his face, as I realized that I hadn't made that sound in a very long time. The ice cream was starting to drip, as Michael slowly leaned closer and kissed me gently on my lips. We sat on the bench with our faces a few inches apart, smiling at each other like two little kids until Anita and Gabe returned.
They were laughing, out of breath, and we had melted ice cream all over us. Anita quickly took in our little scene and grinned broadly before dashing to the counter and grabbing some paper napkins. She tossed some to Michael and then pulled me up from the bench.
"Come on, there's a restroom over here where we can get all of this off of you," she laughed. As soon as we passed the doorway, she spun around and hugged me.
"What's that for?" I asked.
"To welcome you back! I haven't seen you and Michael look at each other that way since last May!"
"Yeah, I guess it has been a while." It felt very nice to feel so normal.
"Let's get back out there before the real Kate disappears again," she exclaimed.
We went back to the guys on the bench and resumed our trek down the boardwalk. Just as he'd done so often last year, Michael threaded his arm around my waist while we walked. He was excited, like I'd been gone for months and had just returned. Anita kept glancing at us and smiling.
"Michael, are you hungry? Can we get some dinner?" I asked.
"Sure, what are you in the mood for?"
It was an evening of renewal and I began blushing furiously at where my mind went when he asked that question. He understood my thought immediately and reacted like the Michael I remembered, his eyebrow arching and the corner of his mouth curving upward. I elbowed him lightly.
"Anybody want some steamed crabs?" I asked, including Gabe and Anita in the decision. They both raised their hands.
"I guess we're going to eat some crabs," Michael announced.
The crab house was only a block or so away, so we walked there quickly. The usual line was absent because it was close to the end of normal dining hours. The tanned, college hostess seated us, pulling brown kraft paper over the table. Steamed crabs were the messiest thing to eat, covered in spicy seasoning. A waiter came over to take our order. As soon as he reached the table, Michael was on his feet, shaking hands with him. As so often happened, we'd run into another of Michael's friends from school. It was Ryan Fradella, the owner's nephew, working there for the summer. I knew Michael had planned to work there with Ryan before I became his real summer job.
After round-the-table introductions, Ryan took our orders, winked at Michael, and disappeared into the kitchen. I looked at Michael inquisitively, and he raised his hand slightly, indicating I should just wait and see. It didn't take more that 10-15 minutes before Ryan returned to the table with a large tray laden with crabs. How were we ever going to eat these before closing time? It was now 9:45 p.m. and closing time was 10:00 p.m. Michael said not to worry because Ryan had it covered.
We soon had our hands and most of the rest of us dusted with Old Bay seasoning. Our tongues burned from the spices. Ten o'clock came and we were the only customers in the place. Ryan strolled out without his wait apron and locked the front door. He spun around and gave Michael a double 'thumbs up' sign before disappearing into the kitchen momentarily. It wasn't long before he re-emerged, dragging a heavy cooler and an extra chair over to our table to join us. His hand flipped the cooler open to reveal multiple bottles of beer packed tightly in ice.
"Sometimes it helps to have connections," he joked.
For nearly two hours, the five of us were no longer worried about the spices.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten that much food, and I hadn't tasted a beer since we were at the lake after prom. We said our goodnights to Ryan and thanked him for the impromptu party before making our way back to the beach house. Anita and Gabe decided to call it a night.
"Are you tired?" Michael asked.
"Tired, but not really sleepy."
"Do you want to go to the beach for awhile?"
"Okay, for a little bit."
We kicked our flip flops off and walked over the loose dune sand. When we finally reached the surf, I tugged Michael's hand as we walked in up to about our knees. I playfully kicked a splash of water toward him. He looked shocked, not expecting it, before he recovered and splashed me back. We laughed and traded salvos until we were both soaked. The phosphorescence in the water that evening made it flash and glow. Winded, we stood facing each other for a moment before Michael pulled me toward him. He looked surreal in the moon's light. Bending down to kiss me, he was tentative at first, still checking for my reaction.
It wasn't until that moment on the beach that I realized how much I'd missed our physical relationship. I wrapped my arms around his neck, wove my fingers through his hair and stretched to glue the entire length of my body to his. He still held me as if I were breakable. Struggling to clear my mind and beat back the images that threatened, I needed to hear his voice.
"Can you please talk to me?" I whispered. "I don't care if you repeat a grocery list, but I need you to talk me through this, so I don't freeze up."
He pulled back a little. "We can stop if you're feeling strange or scared."
"No, I don't want to. I've felt that way long enough. Just hold me, kiss me, talk to me, anything to keep me from thinking," I pleaded.
He tried to break the tension. "Maybe I can keep you from thinking if you kiss me like you did at the lake," he teased. He could always make me laugh when I needed it the most.
"Oh, I'm not sure that you're quite ready for that again," I teased back.
"Try me."
I didn't have the benefit of the calm, deep waters of the lake, so I stood as high as I could on my toes to reach his lips. He knew what I was trying to recreate, and lifted me slowly so that I could wrap my legs at his waist. Just like I asked, he began a stream of ramblings in my ear, telling me how much he loved everything from the top of my head to the toes on my feet.
"Okay, so stop talking if you want me to kiss you already."
He smiled at that and told me that he loved me.
Anita told me during one of our discussions which she undertook to educate me, that whenever a boy said "I love you," it meant he was coming in for the kill -- her words. Her lessons were always something I remembered at exactly the right moment. My emotions wanted to disregard it completely, but my brain always wanted to see if she would be right.
So I kissed him the way he wanted, and when I stopped, he began walking across the sand, carrying me along. I rested my head against his chest, as he climbed the beach house steps and pushed the door open with his shoulder. I was afraid of where we might be heading.
He put me down gently on the bed and knelt on the floor next to me, still keeping his face near mine. His hand rested on my stomach while he kissed me along my collarbone. My mental alarm bell clanged as his lips migrated toward the space in the center of my chest. He was letting out an entire summer's worth of physical frustration in one evening. The worst part was that he'd always been the one to stop, always careful in order to protect me. Had he changed his mind about the boundaries we observed? Was it now totally in my hands whether to let it go as far as I wanted?
Suddenly the unwanted image of the steamed-up car windows popped into my brain. It shocked me. I took Michael's face into my hands and guided it back to my own.
"I think we should go to bed now," I said softly.
He started kissing me urgently, totally misunderstanding what I was trying to tell him. I couldn't suppress the little quiet giggle that popped out.
"No, Michael, I mean to go to sleep."
He exhaled and let the side of his face drop comically on my chest.
"We can't make up for the whole summer in one night, you know. But don't leave. Lie down here next to me," I whispered.
He slid himself under the sheet and wrapped his arms around me. We were both still damp from the surf, so I tucked my head under his chin and rested the side of my face against his warm, bare chest. Perfectly content, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE -- Just the Facts
When I awoke the next morning, I was in exactly the same position as when I fell asleep. Michael was pretty much in the same position, but I did notice that his hand was resting on my butt. His eyes were closed, but I wasn't sure if he was really asleep or not. When I tried to move his hand back to my waist and glanced at his face, I saw the smile that was making the corner of his mouth jerk, even though his eyes were still closed.
I slid down to the foot of the bed and made a quick dash for the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned, he was gone, doing the same thing, I supposed. Not ready to actually get up, I stretched back into bed on my stomach. I felt him climb back into the bed next to me and rest his hand on my butt again. I turned my head toward him.
"Michael Kelsey, I can't believe you would take advantage of me like that while I was sleeping!" I said playfully.
"Considering how you left me hanging last night, you should consider yourself lucky that was the only thing I did."
"I'm sure that I haven't the faintest idea what you mean." I said with feigned innocence.
He gave an exasperated sigh and re-wrapped his arms around me. We enjoyed lying together for awhile. One of us had forgotten to close the bedroom door and while we were still snuggling, Anita and Gabe walked past. Anita's head snapped around as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her eyes widened and I heard her say," Oh my god, it's about time."
Michael rolled his eyes at me, knowing what Anita thought she was seeing. "Are you hungry for some breakfast?" he asked. At that exact moment, my stomach growled.
"Well, I guess that answers my question," he laughed.
He started to get out of bed when I grabbed his arm.
"Don't leave yet." I smiled sheepishly.
He let himself fall back onto the bed.
"Your wish is my command," he mocked, scooting down on the mattress so that his face was even to mine on the pillow. "So, what would you like to do today?"
"Well, actually I wanted to ask you something about Melanie Morrissey."
His face registered surprise and then shifted to a cautious mask.
"What exactly did you want to know about her?"
"When did you go out with her? How much did you like her? Who broke up with whom and why? And did you ever go all the way with her?"
My stream of questions blew out of my mouth in a torrent.
"Whoa, Kate, the first three questions aren't that difficult, but the last one? Are you sure you want to ask that kind of thing, and more importantly, are you really sure you want to hear my answer?"
His violet blue eyes searched mine closely. I'm sure he must have been silently planning to strangle Anita later.
"Could you answer the first three, please?"
"Okay. Yes, we did date for awhile when I was a sophomore. We went out for about three months. At the time, I thought that I liked her a lot. And I broke up with her." I saw nothing but truth in his face when he finished.
"Did you...?" I just couldn't make myself say it again.
"Kate, why do you want to know that?" His voice was very quiet, and I could see that he didn't want to answer that question.
"I'm not sure if I know why it feels important, but I need to know."
"If it's that important to you, then the answer is yes."
His eyes flickered away from mine and I could see that he was extremely uncomfortable.
"Why did you break up with her?"
"It's hard to explain, but she's a strange girl. I mean, she's very attractive, but single-minded."
"What do you mean, single-minded?"
"I mean she was only interested in a physical relationship. Is that plain enough or do you want me to be more graphic?" He was getting aggravated with me. "I got tired of her. She was too one-dimensional."
"Oh. So if we...," I stammered, my voice wavering.
Understanding washed over his face.
"So THAT'S what this is about? You're afraid that if we went too far, I would drop you???" He looked incredulously at me. "Kate, you are nothing like Melanie Morrisey. There's absolutely no comparison. Please don't worry about stuff like that."
"Can I ask you one more question?" This was so embarrassing, but I wanted to know.
He blew out a breath. "Yeah, I guess."
My face was red before I even got the first word out of my mouth. "What's it like for a guy? And why does it seem so difficult for guys to stop along the way?"
Now his face was red too. I knew he couldn't believe I was asking him these things. But what did girls know about this? Especially girls who'd never done that? I wanted to know.
"Well, you're just full of questions today. Is that what you did while you were recuperating in that beach chair? Thinking of everything you ever wanted to know about me?"
He laughed softly, but not in an unkind way. He just didn't know where all of this was coming from.
"Okay, I can only tell you what I think, but I don't want to get too technical here. Guys have a harder time stopping because, well, it's kind of like a train. Once the train picks up speed on the track, it takes an awful lot of braking to stop. And I don't know how to tell you what it feels like. Maybe you'll just have to wait to find that out."
He was trying to lighten the atmosphere, but was so embarrassed that I really had to work to keep myself from breaking up. I don't think I'd ever seen his face so excruciatingly red.
"Thank you," I said, and kissed him lightly.
He pulled my face back to his and kissed me thoroughly.
"Michael, if we don't get up and have breakfast, I'm not going to have to wait very long to find out the answer to that last question."
"It's a good thing we have to go home to start school. I think the beach is making you a little nuts."
"You're dead right about that. Eggs or cereal?"
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR -- Anticipation
It was time to leave the beach and return home for the beginning of the school year. The four of us got busy, gathering our things which had managed to scatter to the most unlikely places. Michael and Gabe finished quickly, but Anita and I chose not to simply throw everything in a duffle bag. I didn't hurry because I didn't want to leave. Michael knocked on my door and asked if he could help with anything. My voice broke when I tried to answer.
"Kate, what's wrong?"
"I'm just sad to leave this place. I loved being here this summer, and it's going to be so hard to get through the next few months. When I go back to school, I know people are going to be pointing and whispering about me."
He wrapped me in a hug.
"I promise we'll come back next summer. And you have nothing to be embarrassed about, so those girls can just stick it." He looked angry, just thinking about it. "But we really do have to go. It's a three hour drive home from here."
He picked up my bags like they weighed nothing and took them out to the car. With the four of us all in one vehicle, we had to put half of our things in the car top carrier. Anita and Gabe were already settled in the back seat, oblivious to their surroundings. I got to snuggle against Michael while he drove. About half the way home, my head drifted down to sleep in his lap while his fingers stroked my cheek.
As soon as we pulled up in front of my house, mom and Nan were out the front door and down the steps, pulling me out of the car and embracing me. It had been nearly two months since I'd been home, and they were glad to have me back. I was happy to see them too, but not as happy to be home. There was too much unpleasantness waiting for me. A gradual sensation of separation was taking hold, and I began to feel less dependent and more in charge of my own destiny. The beach house was still on my mind.
We unpacked and relaxed for the remainder of the day as well as the next, catching up on all that had happened while I was away. Mom was naively happy, but Nan noticed the subtle shift. After mom went to bed, Nan and I stayed in the living room for a little longer.
"Did you have a good summer, Kate?"
"It was very nice, Nan. Exactly what I needed, I think. I just wish that I felt more ready to go back to school tomorrow," I sighed.
"Well, there's no way around that. You just have to jump in with both feet and get on with it," she said. "And Detective Kelly called yesterday to let us know that they'll be setting a trial date next week."
I nodded, not wanting to think about that until I had to. "I'm just afraid of the other girls talking about me, Nan, like I'm a freak or something."
"Don't give them that power, dear. Hold your head up and remember that every one of them probably wishes they had hold of someone like Michael," she winked.
"Nan, you're beginning to sound like Anita," I laughed.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE -- Judgments
Ugly plaid skirt...check. Ugly saddle shoes and white socks...check. I was ready for school. Anita and I caught the bus, just like last year. At least we wouldn't feel like sheep anymore because we were sophomores. We knew where to go to get our homeroom assignments, and were delighted that we were together again. We weren't so delighted that our homeroom teacher was Miss Deitz. She was the epitome of an old maid, with her hair pinned into a sausage roll at the back of her neck, ugly black glasses, matronly clothing and a permanent look of disapproval on her face. God help you if she ever caught you with your skirt rolled up or any makeup on your face. She was famous for walking up and down the rows of desks to check out the tops of girls' heads, looking for discolored roots. That meant you had bleached your hair and she would send you to the principal's office. Of course, everyone pleaded ignorance and said that they had been at the beach all summer, so the sun had streaked it.
The woman had no life outside of Catholic Girls' Institute. When we were dismissed for the day, she'd look out the classroom window to see who was getting into cars with boys. Then she would call the parents of those girls and rat them out. I should've known from day one that there would be trouble. Anita said it was the one time she was glad that her boobs were smaller than mine.
We were only a week into the semester when Miss Deitz told me to stand up from my desk. I did, and she launched into a puritanical rant about the evils of wearing padded bras. It was humiliating. At first, Anita was looking at the floor, trying not to laugh. My usual response to humiliation kicked in. I got angry, especially since the last thing I needed to wear was a padded bra.
"Excuse me, Miss Deitz, but I don't know why you would think that I'm wearing anything like that," I said icily.
She wasn't used to being contradicted, and said she was going to get to the bottom of this. I couldn't help picturing myself whipping off my blouse to present my case. Then Anita stood up too.
"Miss Deitz, I can tell you without a doubt that Kate doesn't wear one of those," she volunteered.
"Miss Collins, I don't recall asking for your opinion."
"Miss Deitz, it isn't an opinion. I've seen 'em."
Anita was priceless. Giggling broke out from some of the other girls and Miss Deitz's mouth opened, not knowing how to answer Anita's testimonial. I'd been through too much over the past six months to tolerate any additional garbage.
We both wound up in the principal's office. Sister Elinor was in a prickly situation. She knew that Miss Deitz was being ridiculous and had really overstepped her bounds. But she also had to back up her own faculty or else her authority would be worthless.
"Girls, I have to say that this is a first for me, and I'm not quite sure what to do. Kate, is there any way that perhaps you could minimize your curves?"
Anita and I glanced at each other, incredulous. I was speechless. Once again, my best friend proved why she held that position.
"Excuse me, Sister, but if Kate had a big nose, would you ask her to get a nose job? If that's the way God created her, how can there be anything wrong?"
Excellent, she was using the church's own religious teachings against them.
"That is a very good point, Miss Collins. I think that perhaps the best thing to do is to try not to antagonize Miss Deitz any further. She is just trying to keep all of our girls on the right path. You both may return to class now."
As soon as we were out of her office, Anita and I high-fived each other. We'd won the first skirmish.
At the end of the first week of classes, we lugged home the usual mountain of books, but it didn't seem so intimidating this year. Michael came by the house on Friday afternoon on his Vespa. Anita begged him to take her for a ride, so he took her for a spin around the reservoir. I'd expected Mom to raise a fuss about the scooter, but apparently victim status had its perks. And by now, Michael could do no wrong in her eyes. Hero status had its perks too.
The three of us sat on a blanket in the back yard, swapping stories about our first week back at school. Anita's rendition of the padded bra battle had Michael choking with laughter. I made him swear not to tell that story to his friends at school.
I was anxious to hear all about his first week as a senior. Of course, football practice had already begun and he would start as quarterback again this year. He was taking several AP classes as well as the honors curriculum, so he had a full plate academically. Another new development, courtesy of the alumni association, was that St. Ignatius would hold their first annual homecoming. It would be in October when the football team played one of their weaker opponents. I'd never been to anything like a homecoming, so it might be interesting.
Mom walked outside, looking subdued.
"Kate, the district attorney called to say that we have a court date. We don't know how long the trial will last. I'll call school tomorrow and set up your assignments so that you don't fall behind. I'm taking off from work, and Nan will come too. Your deposition is next week, as well as the other girls'. Michael, you and Anita will be getting a phone call to set yours up too. Maybe we'll get lucky and Fr. O'Conner will change his plea to guilty and make it easy on everyone."
She stood there for a moment, waiting, but none of us said anything. It was what I'd both waited for and dreaded. A wave of anxiety spread through me, and Michael took my hand and squeezed it a little. Anita rubbed my back. I felt very lucky to have them both.
"Kate, you don't have to do this, if you don't feel like you can. They'll probably have enough on him to put him way with just the other two girls' testimonies," Michael said comfortingly.
"Yes I do. I'm doing it for me, to close the door on it. I have to be able to look at him and take away his power," I said bitterly, looking at the ground and clenching my fist.
"You won't be alone. I'm going to be there with you every day, no matter how long it takes."
"Michael, you're a senior. You can't miss that much school and you have football practice, too."
"I'll figure something out, don't worry."
For the next two weeks, I did my best to avoid the media, but it wasn't easy. I knew everyone at school was talking about me, whispering in the hallways. Anita glared at them when they became too obvious. Even Miss Deitz eased up on me. The attorneys took depositions from all of us, and I was glad that at least Etienne was beyond their reach. The other two girls were there also, but they were older now, seventeen and eighteen.
On the night before the trial began, Michael came over to the house for dinner, and then took me out to see a movie -- a comedy -- to distract me. It helped a little, but my nerves were stretched taut. I had a tenuous hold on my emotions. Mom gave me something to help me sleep. As I got into bed, I hoped I was ready for the beginning of the end of this part of my life.
The next morning, Michael and Anita were on our doorstep early and had breakfast with us. The five of us drove together to the courthouse under grey skies, and met the district attorney in his office beforehand. He went over some reminders and last minute suggestions.
The courtroom was packed, as I knew it would be. Michael and Anita flanked me, each holding one of my hands, as we entered the room. I tried to keep my eyes on the front of the room, as about a hundred heads watched us make our way down the aisle. I had to sit at a table with the other two girls and the prosecuting attorneys. My friends and family sat in the first row, right behind me. I knew that Father O'Conner was at the table to the right, but I'd decided not to look at him until I had to. After opening arguments, the two other girls and I took turns being questioned. I had to look at O'Conner only once, to point and identify him. When the defense attorney cross-examined us, he tried to make it sound like we had pursued O'Conner, and were frivolously prosecuting him because he spurned our advances.
As the D.A. had predicted, there was a litany of how many boys we had dated and if we had sex with them. At one point I was about to cry, but I looked at Michael. He pointed to his eyes, so I concentrated on keeping eye contact with him until it passed. When Michael reconstructed the scene when he first entered the lab and had to describe what he saw, I thought he was going to choke on his own words. He was as furious as I'd ever seen him, looking straight at Fr. O'Conner with nothing short of a deadly expression.
My account of the assault was nothing compared to the other two girls'. They had no Michael to save them, and no way to cut their nightmare short. During one girl's heartbreaking account, Michael got up from his seat and left the room briefly. The trial lasted a week.
In the end, the jury took less than two hours to come back with a verdict of guilty on all counts. At the sentencing, O'Conner received consecutive jail terms, not concurrent, which meant a total of sixty years in prison. As we walked outside, hand in hand, we were mobbed by reporters. We left the responses to the D.A. and ducked into the waiting car to drive away.
It was over.
I sank into the car seat and leaned into Michael, looking forward to one of the best years of my life, as Michael was now a senior and I was a sophomore. For ten more months, we held the separations of college at bay, knowing that the best part of our lives was on our doorstep, waiting for us to open the door, together.
Coming soon from Kathleen Barker
THE BODY WAR
PROLOGUE
All I wanted was to feel totally numb, unconscious if possible. I never knew that it was possible to cry so deeply without making a sound. The bourbon tasted vile, straight from the bottle, but I drank it in gulps to make the crying stop. There was nothing to think about. I was sinking into a hole that I hoped I would never come out of.
In anyone's life there is always one year that they would most want to hold onto. For me, that was a simple decision: the year when Michael was a senior and I was a sophomore in high school. His younger brother, Gabe, had been my first crush from sixth through eighth grade, and although I loved him in a childlike way, it was a relationship doomed by circumstance. Once the elementary school and freshman year dramas had ebbed, I wanted nothing more than to simply be with Michael. What were the chances of ever meeting anyone who was my matching puzzle piece, the only possible other part of me?
Sophomore year began horribly. School had barely begun when our predatory parish priest went on trial. The unwavering support of my close friends and family was the only way I got through it. After he was sentenced to sixty years in prison, Father John O'Conner was no longer my biggest fear. Now I was terrified of losing Michael.
He hadn't done anything to make me feel that way. It was me. I'd always felt that he was just too good to be true, and knowing that he could have virtually any girl he wanted did nothing for my already precarious self esteem. Why he'd picked me was incomprehensible, and I was sure it couldn't last.
Sophomore year at Catholic Girls' Institute meant taking a foreign language -- French. We still had to take Latin, but French entailed spending time in a language lab, sitting in a glass-walled cubicle with headphones. Our teacher, Sister Mary Louise, sat in the front of the room at a crudely-constructed console with controls that allowed her to listen to whichever student she chose. We could usually tell which cubicle she was listening to by watching her eyes.
A boring generic voice droned the correct pronunciation of each word or phrase in the week's lesson. There was also a little-noticed feature where you could input a word or phrase in English and the voice would come back with the French translation. In the beginning, it was funny to purposely mispronounce words. If you did it multiple times, the voice would get increasingly exasperated before it suggested that you move on. It was like a mechanical Sr. Mary Louise.
Just before the end of French lab I noticed my best friend, Anita, scribbling something furiously on a sheet of paper. We were both impatient for the day to end so that we could make our way to the year's first TGIF. The cubicles were soundproof so I couldn't hear what she was doing, but she watched Sister closely before saying things into the microphone. We hurried to our lockers at the end of class.
"What were you doing in language lab? What were you writing down?"
"You'll see! Let's get our books and get out of here."
Friday afternoons were the only times that we didn't have to ride the bus. Since Michael's school, Saint Ignatius, let seniors out a half-hour earlier than the rest of the student body, he drove down to CGI and gave us a ride home. When I climbed into the car, it was hard to resist, but I knew better than to kiss him in front of school.
"Hi, Kate, Anita, ready to get out of here?"
He was in a good mood, happy to be finished with the week's classes and on the way to something fun. Gabe, his brother, was supposed to meet us there with a group of his friends from Calvert Hill. Anita had been dating Gabe for almost a year.
"Definitely," I answered.
Anita grunted something, distracted, as she fiddled with her backpack.
"What ARE you doing?"
"Just keep your pants on, and you'll see in a couple of minutes." Michael and I looked at each other and shrugged before I settled under his arm for the ride.
The previous year we were all about TGIF at The Crease. This year would be different, since the senior boys had discovered the Johns Hopkins frat houses. We pulled up to a section of row houses just a short distance from JHU's campus. It wasn't terrible, but definitely had a different flavor than the suburban atmosphere of the previous year's location. As soon as we exited the car, Anita and I rolled our waistbands to shorten our skirts. When I moved toward the front steps, Michael caught my hand.
"Where are you going?"
"Isn't this the right house?"
"Yeah, but that's the wrong entrance. It's around the corner."
As Michael led the way, we heard the swell of a pulsing bass from below ground. He paused in front of a pair of wooden doors that were flush with the concrete sidewalk and reached down to lift them open. The steps lay underneath. My stomach flipped as we descended and the doors shut over our heads.
Initially, it was difficult to see after being out in the bright sunlight, but the layout gradually came into focus. Off to one side was a built-in bar with a large metal barrel that had a levered nozzle jutting out of its side. The basement was crowded and the music was loud. Anita and I weren't the only girls there, but we were definitely in the minority. A knot of older JHU guys were dancing with girls in a way I'd never seen before. There wasn't any space between their bodies, and these weren't slow dances. The way they moved with each other was disconcerting. I decided to stay close to Michael and far away from whatever that kind of dancing was. Anita was already at the bar, fearless as usual.
"Michael, what's that thing that looks like a barrel?"
He shook his head slightly before leaning close to my ear. "It's a keg."
He could see from my expression that I didn't have a clue. I'd had beer a few times before, but it was either in a can or a bottle.
"What's a keg?"
I bit my lip, embarrassed by my usual naiveté. It made him chuckle, but he was used to my lack of coolness.
"It's just a big container of beer with a pull spout. It's easier and cheaper than single containers for a crowd. Want some? I'll get us both a cup."
Anita already had hers and was off to the side, talking to a small circle of guys.
He handed me a cup of beer and guided me over to a group of his friends from school. I recognized a couple of their girlfriends from St. Mary's Prep, dressed in their distinctive navy uniforms. It made me hate our pleated plaid skirts even more. One of the girls had long, gorgeously-streaked blonde hair, creamy pink skin and ice blue eyes. She was remarkably attractive, and I saw her face spark with recognition as we approached the group. It wasn't me that she recognized.
"Well, hi, Michael. I haven't seen you in awhile. You're looking good."
She flashed a set of bright white, perfectly-formed teeth. She was so pretty that I couldn't stop looking at her.
"Who's your little friend?"
Jealousy stabbed at my stomach, and I knew instantly that I didn't like her, pretty or not. Michael's hand tightened, squeezing mine reassuringly.
"Hi, Muffy. This is my girlfriend, Kate Fitzgerald. Kate, this is Muffy Morrisey."
I thought I was going to be sick. This was the girl that Michael had spent so much time with in the steamed-up car when they were both sophomores. And now she was a senior, just like him. At least he described me to her as his girlfriend.
"Hi, Kate. You're a little young for something like this, aren't you?"
Was she implying that I was too young to be at the TGIF or too young to be with Michael?
"Not really," I answered lamely.
Anita saw us and moved across the floor to join our group. She knew Melanie already.
"Hi, Melanie. Cruising the JHU guys today?" she asked bitingly.
"Well if it isn't Anita Collins, the pride of CGI. Actually no, I don't need to cruise."
Their acid comments hung in the air like a mist, making me uncomfortable. Michael quickly cut off the conversation.
"Come on, Kate. Anita, Lee wants to talk to you. See you later, Muffy."
He was frowning, not happy to have crossed paths with her. Melanie smiled and turned back to her friends, who'd been watching her performance.
"I'm sorry you had to run into her, Kate," he said apologetically. "She can be a real piece of work."
"That's a generous way to describe her," Anita groused.
We joined another group and while Michael was distracted, Anita squeezed my arm and whispered, "Watch this."
She finished the beer in her cup and pulled the sheet of paper out of her bag. "I'm going to get a refill. Be right back."
As she made her way over to the keg, passing Melanie's knot of friends, her arm rose and touched Melanie's back.
"Oh, excuse me, Muffy. It's getting a little crowded in here."
When she took her hand away, the paper was taped to Melanie's back. I squinted, trying to read what was written on it. It was in French and said "Liberer rapport sexuel."
Now I realized what Anita had been doing in language lab.
"What does that say?"
"Free sex," Anita smirked with vengeful satisfaction.
I guessed that there were more than a few guys in there who'd taken enough French to be able to translate. It took a couple of minutes, but as guys walked over to the keg, some of them saw the sign and nudged their buddies, laughing and pointing. Melanie hadn't noticed it yet.
"Anita, she's going to know it was you. I can't believe you did that."
"I can take care of myself, but don't you mess with her, Kate. She's not a good enemy to have... especially for you."
It surprised me to hear her remark, as she was normally so cavalier about things like that.
Now Anita's brother, Lee, had seen the sign, and he laughed, directing Michael's attention to it. As the translation cascaded across the room, Melanie made eye contact with Michael and pursed her lips into an air kiss. His face flushed before he turned back around.
September was a full month. The first football game was coming up as well as Michael's birthday. He was going to be 18 years old. I would remain 15 until my birthday in November. I didn't like that period between his birthday and mine, as it made our age difference even more pronounced. His mom invited me over for dinner on Sunday to celebrate. I still didn't have a present for him. It was going to be tough to find, especially considering how much difficulty I'd had shopping for him last Christmas. I smiled, glancing at the beads on his wrist and knowing that the only time he took them off was for football. The silver heart he'd given me last year still hung on my neck. It was always frustrating to come up with anything for him, because he had everything already.
His birthday also stoked my fear of separation when he went to college next year. I wanted to give him a gift that he could take with him to remind him of me, but what? Only a few days remained to decide.
In the meantime, Anita and I had to work on our Biology project. We both despised the Science Fair that the school insisted on holding each year. The junior and senior projects were kind of interesting, but the crap that the sophomores put out was usually laughable. We had to pull slips of paper out of a box for our assignment on a comparative anatomy unit. The paper contained the name of an animal and a body system that we'd have to compare with a human's. Anita and I were lab partners, so at least we could work on it together over the next two weeks.
As our biology teacher, Mrs. Watson, passed the box around, groans rose from the teams. Anita pulled our slip and got the shark and the circulatory system. The name of each team and their specific assignment was enshrined on the board, so no one could attempt to alter their fate. We cackled at the assignment that Sharon Simbel, a girl we'd both disliked since elementary school, had gotten. She and her partner had the bald eagle and the excretory system. Since the project called for an oral presentation to the class with explanatory diagrams, Anita saw a great opportunity for tormenting her.
Football season approached, but this year's games would be different. Anita went with Gabe to rival Calvert Hill's games now, since that's where Gabe attended high school. I wouldn't be getting my driver's license until after the season ended and Michael had to be at St. Ignatius for pre-game warm-ups with the team, so he asked Anita's brother to give me a ride out to the game. It was no problem to find someone to sit with, because I now knew the majority of Michael's friends and classmates, as well as their girlfriends.
The first game of the season finally arrived. After a quick dinner with mom and Nan, I heard Lee's horn and hurried out to his waiting car.
"Hey, Kate," he said as I climbed into the front seat next to him, apparently finding me more tolerable as Michael's girlfriend than as his annoying little sister's best friend.
"Hi, Lee. Who's playing against St. Ig tonight?"
"St. Joe's. They suck this year. We should've saved them for homecoming. It doesn't matter though, 'cause we're gonna steamroll to the playoffs this year, no matter how the schedule is arranged."
I had to laugh at Lee. He was so different from Anita. Although definitely not as bright, what you saw was what you got with him. This would be the first season that he hadn't played on St. Ig's team, due to lingering knee problems from last year's injuries.
"Yeah, it ought to be a pretty exciting season with so many good players from last year still around," I agreed.
"That's for sure. This place is gonna be crawling with scouts."
My heart lurched. I didn't want to think about the places that might offer football scholarships to one player in particular.
"Do you want to watch the game with us, since Michael will be on the field?"
"Thanks, Lee. That would be great."
We sat a couple of rows up in the bleachers. The score at halftime was ridiculous: 35-0 in St. Ig's favor. Michael had thrown five touchdown passes and St. Joe's was in danger of triggering the infamous high school limitation rule to help hopelessly outclassed teams. If the score exceeded 50-0, the game would be called. With the offense on the field the majority of the time, Michael hadn't gotten much chance to rest. That would change when the teams re-emerged from their locker rooms after halftime and the second string got some playing time.
When the second half started, Michael was on the players' bench, talking to one of the assistant coaches. A girl walked over to stand behind the bench, just a few feet away from him. It took a moment before I recognized her: Melanie Morrisey. Her long, blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and an expensive leather jacket hugged her body perfectly. Lee had seen her too, and leaned his face down close to mine from the seat behind.
"Kate, watch out for that one. I heard through the 'vine that's she's after Michael again. He's the only guy that's ever dropped her instead of vice-versa, and she can't stand it. She can be very convincing, if you catch my drift."
"Oh, thanks for the warning."
I felt sick. How could I possibly compete with her, especially since she'd already been too willing to do the things that I wasn't ready for yet? I needed to talk to Anita.
Near the end of the third quarter, the game was called due to the score, 56-0. I knew how the articles in the next day's newspaper would look. The sportswriters were going to make it sound like the Second Coming with Michael starring as Jesus. I hoped that this season wasn't going to go to his head.
Lee waited with me while Michael showered. Emerging from the locker room, Michael waved to me, smiling, but his mouth tightened when he spied Melanie directly in his path. As the distance narrowed, she walked toward him and put her arms around his waist when he stopped in front of her. He was clearly uncomfortable, but trying not to be rude. When he pulled away from her, she laughed in a throaty voice and walked slowly back to her waiting gaggle of friends who'd watched the whole thing. Lee saw my smile fade as I witnessed her display and tried to help.
"Don't let her get to you. Keep looking right at my face. Now just picture in your mind that Michael is bending over and telling Muffy to kiss his....."
I burst out laughing at his description. It was the first time I'd seen Lee act in any way like his sister, and I was grateful for it. He grinned, pleased with himself too.
Michael came up from behind and put both of his arms around me, kissing the side of my neck.
"Kate, I'm sorry. I didn't see that coming at all, but your self esteem must have gone up about a hundred points," he chuckled.
I looked at him with my face scrunched up, still trying to corral the moisture that threatened to overflow my eye sockets.
"And just why would THAT raise my self esteem?"
"Well, just look at who you've managed to make insanely jealous. She's a senior. She's very pretty. She can have just about any guy she sets her sights on, and you've got something she can't have."
"What could I possibly have that she would want?"
He grinned crookedly, raised those eyebrows and said, "Me!"
The next day, I called Anita as soon as I woke up. I was sure that Lee had filled her in on the incident with Melanie. I wanted to talk to her about it, but what I needed most was help getting Michael's birthday gift. I was down to the wire and approaching frantic.
"Kate! Lee told me about the scene with Melanie yesterday. Are you okay?"
"No, not really, but I need to get Michael's present first. We can talk about her later."
"Okay, I'm coming over now."
Not more than five minutes passed before she was downstairs, ringing the doorbell.
"Anita, thank you SO much. I don't know what to do about anything....about Michael, me, Melanie, or his present."
I was stressed and close to bawling. She took one look at me, pulled me up the stairs to my room and shut the door.
"Well, first you're going to tell me what you're afraid of, and what you're going to do about it. Then we'll get Michael's present."
"I asked him if he'd ever done, you know, with any girl, and he said that he and Melanie had. She's so pretty, and I know he wants me to do more, and the reason he dropped her is because all she wanted to do was have sex, and Lee told me she wants him back, and he'll be going to college, and I'm never going to see him again, and I think I am going to have to have some protection like you said last year." I babbled on crazily, edging closer to hysterics.
"Wow, slow down. Look at the good stuff first, huh? So they had sex...big deal. And Michael dropped her because he GOT TIRED of her. So she's pretty. He's NOT interested, as in 'been there, done that'! Yes, he'll go to college, a YEAR from now. There are plenty of colleges within driving distance so that you can see each other every weekend. And if you still want to take your relationship to the next level, I can show you how to be safe. So, calm down. She wants him. He doesn't want her. He wants you. He's so sick in love with you that it's pathetic. Now let's figure out what you're getting him for his birthday!"
She shook my shoulders until I smiled back at her. How could she make it sound so simple?
"Now, before you tell me what you don't want to get him, tell me what you want your gift to do?"
"Huh?"
"Do you want it to be something intensely personal that only you can give him?"
For a moment I thought she meant something physical and a nervous giggle slipped out. She was seriously into this gift thing.
"Yes, that's exactly what I want."
"Okay, then this is what we're going to do. We're going to call and make an appointment at that glamour photo place at the mall for this afternoon. I'm going to pick out your clothing and do your hair and makeup, because if they do it, you'll look like a hooker. We're going to get one for his desk at home and one for his wallet so he'll always have you with him!"
She stopped, sat back and folded her hands in her lap, proud of her idea. It felt a little odd to give a picture of myself as a present, but Anita was the master at knowing how boys felt about things. She was already on the phone, scheduling the shoot, and pulling out makeup and clothes. Anita was a force of nature.
"We're all set. We have to be there in two hours, so get dressed in something that buttons down the front, so I can do your hair and face without you wrecking it when you switch clothes. And, by the way, while I'm getting you dolled up, you're going to tell me all about the conversation you had with Michael and how you found out that he'd done it with Melanie. "
So I told her the whole discussion that we had before leaving the beach house that summer. When I told her the part where I asked Michael what it felt like for a guy and how he'd compared it to a train, she froze in disbelief.
"You do know that I'm never going to be able to read that book to a little kid again when I babysit," she teased.
"What are you talking about? What book?"
"The Little Engine That Could!" She threw herself down on the bed, laughing.
"Anita, seriously, you can't EVER say anything to anyone about this. He'd never trust me again."
"My lips are sealed. And when we get back from the photographers, I'm going to teach you how to protect yourself, because you're getting a little scary now. In my opinion, you two are going to do something sooner rather than later, and you're way too dumb at this point."
Anita called Lee to give us a ride. I don't know what threat she held over his head this time, but he was there in 15 minutes. When we got to the studio, she pushed me toward the dressing room. I heard her saying something to the photographer about it not being a yearbook picture and that she didn't want anything boringly traditional. I had a feeling this was going to be embarrassing. I just didn't know how much. She had me lying on the floor, on my back, on my side, and leaning on my arms. She kept winking at me because the photographer started sweating, and I was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
When we finally finished, Anita grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the store. I could tell by the look on her face that she had something else up her sleeve.
"And now, Miss Fitzgerald, you are coming to MY house for Sex Ed 101."
Now I was the one who was sweating and feeling stupid. Once settled in her room, she reviewed stuff from the books we'd read before, and then pulled out a weird little foiled square.
"What's that?"
She shook her head in disgust and proceeded to show me how it was used.
"No, no, that's not going to happen. I can't do that. Thanks, but no thanks."
"You think this is more embarrassing than walking around school pregnant and big as a house?"
"I'm not sure which would be worse, honestly."
"Look, I'm not saying you have to do anything. But IF you need it, now you know. Here, take it and keep it in your bag."
"Oh my god, no! What if somebody saw it in there, like my mother or my grandmother?"
Anita blew out her breath noisily and shook her head, choosing to ignore my question.
"Look, I'll get Lee to take us back to the photo studio around six so we can pick up the pictures. Then we can pick one or two out and get them back there so they can make the final copy before closing tonight."
Thanks to her, another crisis had been averted. When we picked up the photos, she wouldn't let me look at them until she'd reviewed them, tossing out the ones she deemed unsuitable.
"Here, check these out and tell me this wasn't the right choice for him!" she said. The candid poses were probably the best I'd ever seen of myself. Better even than the photo that Michael had on his desk in his bedroom. We sat there with our heads together, choosing which two would be best. After handing them in for the final prints, we had about two hours to waste before they would be ready.
"I have an idea," she said.
"I'm afraid to ask."
"Well, your birthday will be coming soon and I think that this would be the perfect time to get a gift from me to you."
"Anita, we don't exchange birthday presents."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm personally vested in this relationship now. I love you like a sister, and you need my advice in more ways than you think."
It was true. From the very beginning, Anita had been a little infatuated with Michael. It didn't lessen her feelings for Gabe, which were stronger than for anyone she'd ever been with before. She just loved the fact that we were so absolutely smitten with each other.
While we waited for the photographs, we shopped for something for me to wear to Michael's birthday dinner. Anita was into designer stuff, which meant nothing to me. I was a tee shirt kind of girl. She felt it was a personal challenge to dress me for maximum effect. I owned one pair of jeans, some tshirts, two skirts, a sweater and a couple of blouses, in addition to the dresses that mom and Nan had bought for dances. Since I wore a uniform to school, I really didn't need much. Anita picked out a blouse that perfectly complimented my coloring. Then she selected a skirt that was a lot more mature than my usual floral, flowing skirts at home. It was straight, above the knee, and a lot more form-fitting. And it really did look great with the blouse.
"These are too expensive, Anita."
"My parents let me charge stuff on their credit card when I need something from this store. They'll never know whether it was for me or not, so there is no reason to object. I want to do it."
"Thank you. You just might have to be my maid of honor if Michael and I wind up together eventually."
"I'm counting on that," she smiled.
On Sunday afternoon I sat in my backyard swing, thinking about the things that had happened over the last few weeks. Melanie's reappearance worried me, and I wondered if Michael would be strong enough to resist her obvious overtures. My mind vacillated between keeping things as they were with him and going further. It surprised me when I twisted around to find Nan walking into the yard toward me.
"Hey, Nan, what's up?" I asked.
"I just thought I'd come out and sit with you for awhile. How are things with Michael?" Leave it to Nan to know exactly when to ask about our relationship. It was uncanny.
"It's okay. There is one thing that kind of bothers me, but it'll probably be alright."
"Why don't you tell me? Maybe I can help," she offered.
I didn't know how much I wanted to share, but it couldn't hurt to tell her about the Melanie thing and see what would be her take on it. But there was no way I could tell her about the things that she and Michael had done. When I finished, she cut to the heart of it.
"Are you trying to tell me that they were... more physically involved? Is that what you're trying to say?"
She didn't look disapproving, so I kept going.
"Yeah, but he got tired of her and ended it. Now she wants him back and I don't know if I can compete with her. I don't think I'm ready for that," I confessed, feeling my face redden.
"Would you like to hear what I think?" she asked.
"Actually, I would."
"Well, he acted like any boy that age would when a girl was willing to do the things that boys are obsessed with. But I'd say it tells you something important about him that he wanted more than that. And when I see how he looks at you, Kate, I can see that he is as in love as an eighteen-year-old boy can be. If he's willing to wait for you, then that shows you even more about his character. It sounds like you're making the right decisions. Trust your instincts, and I think things will work out for the best. Remember that it has to be what's right for you, not a reaction to this other girl."
Who would've thought that their grandmother, of all people, would be so dead on? How did she know so much about teenage boys?
"Thanks, Nan."
She smiled, hugged me and went back into the kitchen.
I dressed slowly for Michael's birthday dinner, thinking it would be nice to spend some time with his mom. They were so alike. Their physical features, expressions and gestures were uncannily similar. She acted like I was the daughter that she never had. Michael was her only natural child, since Gabe was adopted, but it seemed that someone like her should've had half a dozen kids.
Michael soon arrived and as we drove quietly to his house, I felt that both of us were deep in thought about the situation that had developed over the last few days. Neither of us was quite sure how to talk about it.
Mrs. Kelsey threw the door open and hugged me exuberantly.
"I'm so glad that you could join us tonight. This is such a special day. I can't believe my baby is actually eighteen years old!"
She smiled at Michael and then kissed him. It was funny to see him blush.
"Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Kelsey. I'm glad to see you again too."
The three of us walked into the living room. Gabe came down the steps, walked across the room and hugged me. It was the first time he'd done anything like that since before we broke up over Michael. It was good to be friends with him once again. I could see that it made Michael happy too.
"Well, before we have dinner, let's have a little celebration toast," his mom suggested.
She retrieved four champagne flutes from the dining room, set them on the coffee table and handed the chilled bottle to Michael to uncork. He popped it expertly and filled the glasses like he'd done it before.
"To my wonderful son on his eighteenth birthday! I love you, Michael. Congratulations."
We clinked our glasses together and drank the bubbly liquid. Michael kissed her and then kissed me. My face flushed, because he'd never done that in front of his mom before. She looked delighted at his show of affection and her laugh made a pretty tinkling sound. Gabe extended his arm and shook hands with Michael before Mrs. Kelsey gestured for us to enter the dining room.
It was an amazing meal. Michael and Gabe acted like it was typical of their mom's talents. She served wine with each different course as well as a dessert wine. I had a very pleasant buzz by the time dinner was over, and was surprised when she kissed us both and then excused herself.
"Well, I have to get up early in the morning, so I'll let you two enjoy the rest of the evening together. Goodnight, Kate, and thank you again for coming to share the evening with us. Don't be such a stranger. I really would like to see you more often, dear."
Gabe nodded and followed upstairs after his mom. I looked at Michael, wondering what we were going to do now.
"Did you enjoy my mom's cooking?" he asked.
"Are you kidding? That was awesome!" I told him.
"Yeah, she's amazing. Well, what should we do with the rest of the evening?"
"I'm not sure. What did you have in mind?"
He led me by the hand into the sunroom. It seemed strange to call it that when it was totally dark. He turned on the recessed lighting, and moved the dimmer down.
"Hey, if you turn the light down that low, you aren't going to be able to see your birthday present," I protested.
"Why did you get me a present? You didn't have to do that, you know. Just being together for my birthday is enough."
"Too late."
I maneuvered him over to the loveseat and gave him the envelope that held the photographs. He pursed his lips, unsure of what kind of gift would be in a big envelope rather than a box. He undid the clasp slowly and looked inside. I was nervous, as I still didn't feel right about giving pictures of myself as a gift. He pulled the prints out and sat there for a moment, staring at them intently. It startled me when he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my face to his. His kiss was different than normal. Lately it seemed that every time we were alone together, he did something, no matter how small, that took it to a different level. Not that I minded! This was a full mouth kiss, and he was exploring with his tongue. I thought it was weird at first, but then it was like a switch had been flipped. I impulsively threw my leg across and pulled myself up into his lap, facing him. I wasn't even thinking that I had on a skirt. It was insane to be acting this way in his house, of all places, with his mother and brother upstairs. Michael was responding as if all the rules had been erased. When he pulled me against his body, his breathing got all crazy.
It was painful to do, but I pulled my face back from his mouth.
"I guess that means you like your present, huh?"
He laughed darkly and part of me wanted to do whatever we were about to do, while another part was yelling not to be just another Melanie. If I stopped him, what would that accomplish? Just another reprieve until the next time we were alone together? I truly didn't know how much longer I would be able to resist. Was I like any 15 year old who would believe whatever this 18 year old boy-man told her? Especially this boy, with his dark curly hair and violet blue eyes, so devastatingly good-looking that any girl would willingly trade places with me without a second thought.
"Michael, not here, not now," I whispered.
His voice was deep and inviting.
"Why not? I love you. It's driving me crazy. I don't know how to be with you anymore, just kissing."
This was agonizing. All I could think of was Melanie. Once he'd been with her, he had the knowledge that I didn't have yet. So had it come to this? Either give in or give him up?
"I love you, too. But I need more time...please."
I was afraid of what his answer would be.
His darkly hued eyes stared into mine. He was so achingly beautiful.
"I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ... it's just that you are sincerely driving me nuts. And, yes, I do like my present. Your friend, Anita, is trying to see how much it takes to break me," he laughed.
"What makes you think that Anita had anything to do with this?" I gasped.
His eyebrows rose slowly. "Please, I know that you did not come up with this on your own. Don't get me wrong, because I absolutely love the photographs. It's just that you would never have dreamed up pictures like that by yourself. Come on, admit it."
My frustration was palpable. Tears brimmed in my eyes, ready to spill if I said anything.
"What's wrong? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Your pictures are perfect. What's the matter?"
I let it all pour out, telling him everything: my fears about Melanie, about our physical relationship on the brink, how much I loved him, how afraid I was about his departure for college, and how much I wanted him. He listened solemnly, and when I finished my deluge, he simply held me.
"I'm sorry. You must think I'm such a baby. I just can't help how I feel."
He raised my chin so that I had to look into his eyes.
"Don't you know that's one of the reasons I love you? I've never known anyone at all like you. Would you do something for me?"
"Well, I'd say anything you wanted, but maybe not anything," I laughed.
He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small replica of his class ring on a gold chain.
"Would you wear this? I don't know how else to tell you that there's no one but you."
I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed me again and I kissed him back as best I could while I cried like an idiot.
"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled.
Anita and I had planned to get together at her house the following weekend. I was going to sleep over on Friday night, and then we were going to spend all day Saturday working on our Biology project, since the due date was getting close. We both decided to pass on this week's TGIF, figuring Michael and Gabe couldn't get into too much trouble by themselves. Besides, Lee would be there and we could always pump him for information.
As soon as we got home from school on Friday, I threw some clothes and toiletries in a bag and left a note for mom and Nan, who were at the grocery store. It had been a very good week. As I walked to Anita's house, I kept running my fingers over the new ring-necklace that Michael had given to me at his birthday dinner. I felt much more secure about our relationship since then, and Melanie was less of a threat. I hadn't even told Anita about the ring yet. She was going to flip. When I got to her house, she opened the door and did a little dance.
"What are you all excited about? Normally, you don't dance when you see me," I giggled.
"What would you say if I told you we have the whole house to ourselves tonight?"
"Really? How did that happen?"
"Lee is at the TGIF, of course, and my folks left for a weekend business seminar in Philly this afternoon! Lee is supposed to watch me.....ha!"
"Cool. So what are we going to do tonight? I don't want to start on the biology thing until tomorrow, do you?"
She grimaced. "Absolutely not! Tonight we're having a girls' party for just us, and you're going to tell me what's been going on with you and my second favorite guy."
Oh, crap. I should've known. Well, I was going to tell her about the ring anyway. I held up the end of the necklace and swung it back and forth, waiting for her to see it.
"No! And how long have you had this without telling me?"
"Since Sunday night," I smiled slyly.
"Kate Fitzgerald, who was it that thought up the photo idea AND dressed you for his birthday dinner? And this is how you repay me? Honestly, you don't have a fair bone in your body!"
"Well, I knew we were getting together tonight and I wanted to save the news until I could tell you the whole thing." It pacified her somewhat.
"Okay, wait. Don't start yet. I'm ordering a pizza and when it gets here, you can start."
She grabbed the phone and placed the order. As soon as she hung up, she took two glasses out of the cabinet, pulled out some soda and disappeared into the dining room.
"What're you doing in there?" I called.
"Wait a minute. You'll see."
She came back in with a half-full bottle of whatever Kentucky bourbon was and proceeded to pour some into each glass, topping them off with the soda.
"Anita, are you crazy? Are you trying to get us both grounded?"
"Who's gonna know? Lee won't tell, because I have so much stuff on him that he would never dare. And if nobody else is here, why not? Besides, it might be neat to see just how much it takes before we get blasted. Then we'll know when we should stop when we're out somewhere. It's a good thing to know what your limit is. Especially YOU," she exclaimed, pointing her finger at me.
Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. Of course, at 15, how was I to know that the amount depended on the alcohol content as well as other variables? Anita pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil.
"We're gonna write it down every time we finish a glass!"
Even she could be dumb at times. At least it seemed that way unless this was part of her plan to get me to tell her more about Michael. We sat in her living room so we could hear the pizza guy when he came to the door. I wished that she had that coconut flavored rum that Michael's friend had at the St. Ig dance last year. This stuff had a picture of a turkey on the label. I couldn't help making a face when I swallowed a mouthful, but the soda helped keep it from tasting too bad. Anita marked a '1' on the paper. The pizza arrived, and she poured another glass for both of us.
"Okay, pizza's here and we've got our drinks. Spill it."
Her face made me laugh. It was all business. So I told her about the champagne, the great food, the birthday cake, and how he'd kissed me right in front of his mother.
She frowned and drank more, then waited for me to catch up.
"Do you think I want to hear about what you ate for dinner?" she snorted.
But I was having fun drawing it out. She just about died when I told her that Michael's mother went to bed and left us alone downstairs. When I told her about his reaction to the photographs, she chugged the rest of her drink and marked a '2' on the paper.
"Wait. Stop right there while I get us a refill. Don't say anymore until I get back."
She literally flew into the kitchen to get more soda. When she came back into the living room, she explained, "After we finish this one, we're gonna wait at least a half hour to see how it makes us feel before we have any more. This is an experiment."
Her eyes bugged when I told her about the distinctly different kiss and what had almost happened in the sunroom. She slapped her leg.
"See, I knew as soon as he started telling you that he loved you, he was going to start pushing for more. Didn't I?"
Now that she mentioned it, I remembered her saying that. And she was right, as usual.
"Man, Kate, you are in the danger zone."
I could feel the alcohol starting to work.
"And now he got you to wear his school ring. Be careful, 'cause he's gonna make his move soon. Are you sure you don't want a review of our little class last week?"
She was starting to talk louder, so I guessed she could feel the drinks too. The things she was saying were making me nervous, and I finished the refill without even thinking about it.
"Hey, wait for me. Don't drink this stuff that fast or it'll hit you like a freight train," she warned before scrawling a '3' on the paper. It didn't look as neat as the other numbers.
"Anita, you're being kind of cynical. You make it sound like Michael is playing a game with me or something. That's pretty cold."
I was uncomfortable with how she was describing his intentions.
"Look, he's an 18 year old guy. He's already done it with Melanie. And don't sit there and try to tell me that he doesn't want to do the same things with you. I don't know how you're able to hold out with him. I mean, if I weren't dating Gabe...well, I mean if you two weren't going together."
My eyes flew open. I couldn't believe she said that! I'd never heard her say anything so explicit, especially about MY boyfriend. I jumped at the sound of the front door opening. It was Lee, home from the TGIF. He looked surprised to see me there. He also looked nervous.
"Hey, Lee, how was the TGIF? Were Gabe and Michael there?"
He looked away from us. "It was okay. Yeah, they were there."
"Come on in and have some pizza and a drink. For once you'll get a freebee....something to hold over MY head," she laughed.
Lee was acting oddly, hesitating in the doorway.
"What's wrong with you?" Anita asked. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"
He took a piece of pizza and climbed the stairs to his room.
Anita ignored her 30 minute rule and refilled our glasses. I wasn't sure about this one, because my head was beginning to whirl.
"Stay here," she whispered, and clumsily climbed up the stairs after Lee.
I closed my eyes, trying to keep the room from transforming into a maelstrom. Their voices buzzed upstairs, but I couldn't concentrate enough to make out what they were saying. It was stupid, but I picked up the glass and drained it. My stomach was tight and my head hurt. Something bad happened at the TGIF and Lee didn't want to talk about it. Anita came back down the stairs and sat down on the sofa next to me. Her face looked awful, like somebody had died.
"Kate, I'm going to tell you something that you aren't going to like, but you have to know. Lee told me that Melanie Morrisey was at the TGIF too, and...,"
She paused, trying to decide how to word the rest, but I didn't need to hear any more. A sob heaved out of me as Anita put her arm around my shoulder.
"Michael drank too much and she was all over him. He left the TGIF with her."
I got up from the sofa and ran to the powder room where I threw up noisily. She ran in behind me and held my hair back, yelling for Lee while she wiped my mouth.
"Lee, get her upstairs and put her in my bed, so she can sleep it off."
He scooped me up like I weighed nothing and ascended the steps, depositing me in Anita's bed. When he pulled the covers over me, the last thing I remembered was thinking he'd kissed my forehead before he left the room.
It was still dark when I woke. I glanced at my watch and it was not quite three in the morning. Then I remembered what Anita had told me.
I'd never felt anything like this before, this pain, like something was eating its way out of my chest. All I knew was that I had to get out of there and go anywhere. I went downstairs quietly, shoeless, and saw Anita asleep on the living room couch. There was the empty bourbon bottle that we'd finished as well as a newly opened one beside it. I grabbed it and left. Why had Michael done this? How could he tell me one day that I was the only one for him and then do something like this? I walked as far as the park and sank onto my knees under an evergreen tree. All I wanted was to feel totally numb, unconscious if possible. I never knew that it was possible to cry so deeply without making a sound. The bourbon tasted vile, straight from the bottle, but I drank it in gulps to make the crying stop. There was nothing to think about. I was sinking into a deep hole that I hoped I would never come out of.
Anita woke up to Lee standing by the sofa, shaking her arm to rouse her.
"Anita, wake up. You have to get up. Kate's gone. Where did she go? Did she say she was going home?" His voice was loud, concerned.
Anita opened her eyes with a hangover headache.
"What are you talking about? She's upstairs, asleep in my bed. Now leave me alone and let me go back to sleep, Lee."
"No, Anita, she's gone. She's not up there."
Anita bolted into a sitting position and stared at Lee in disbelief.
"Christ, what are we going to do now? Should we call her house first? You call, Lee. Her mom and grandmother don't know your voice. Just ask if she's there."
Lee dialed the number and asked for me. My mom told him I was spending the night with a girlfriend.
"Now what? I don't want to get her in trouble, but we have to find her. Let's take your car and drive through the neighborhood. And call your stupid friend Michael. This is his fault, so he needs to help. If we can't find her, we're going to have to tell her mom and maybe call the police. No, scratch that. Let ME call Michael."
Even with a hangover, Anita knew how to make a plan. She dialed his home number. Gabe answered.
"Gabe, it's Anita. We've got a problem. Is your lousy brother there?"
"Hey, Anita. Yeah, he's barely conscious, but he's here. How's Kate? God, I can't believe he did this. I'd like to kill him."
Anita heard him yell for Michael to pick up the phone in his room. After a few minutes, a groggy voice answered.
"Hello?"
Anita was rubbing her throbbing temple, exquisitely angry.
"Michael, I need you to get over here now. When Lee came home last night, he told Kate about you and Melanie at the TGIF and now she's missing. She left my house sometime last night and she didn't go home. We already checked there. I don't want to call the police without looking for her ourselves first. And let me just add that I think you're horrible. How could you do this to her? No, don't try to explain. Just get here now, fast."
Then she hung up on him before he could say a word.

