LukeI’ll take that as a yes. It was fun to hang out with you.
MeYou, too. I’ll drive with you anytime, you and your heated seats ;)
LukeSee you soon.
A warm feeling spread across my chest, and when I glanced in the rearview mirror before putting the car in reverse, I saw there was a huge, goofy smile plastered from one side of my face to the other. See you soon, he’d said.
∞
Charlie was in the back yard with a stack of wood from the garage when I drove in. When I yelled to ask what he was up to, he answered briefly, “Fort,” then went back to work. When he put his mind to a project, it was hard to pull him off it.
As I was putting away my Costco purchases (an enormous block of cheddar, bread for three weeks, a barrel of laundry detergent) I heard laughter from Cassie’s bedroom. I walked to the bottom of the stairs. Cassie had laughed differently when Mike was around—it sounded like a gentle wheeze. Heh-heh-heh. Her ladylike laugh. But this was the all-out belly laugh that I remembered from my childhood, the one that made our dad call her “donkey.” It made me smile, too. It had been a long time since I’d heard it—a shot of guilt pierced my amusement when I realized that I hadn’t heard that sound from Cassie since I’d come home. Cancer. Not a lot that was amusing.
She and Tara were sitting cross-legged on the bed with a pile of yearbooks. “Oh my god,” Tara snorted. “How did she see the board through all that hair?” She pointed at a picture and they both convulsed.
“She ran against me as Homecoming Queen,” Cassie said. “Like, right. Please!”
Same old Cassie.
Tara pointed at a picture of herself. “Check it out. See my cheeks? So chubby. I was already pregnant with Darby and hiding it from my mom. Ugh, senior year was terrible, puking in the bathroom before pre-calculous every morning.”
“That sucks,” Cassie commented. “But at least Diego married you. Remember Amber?” She pointed out a girl who had driven all the way to Detroit to stay with her sister and get an abortion. In a small town, everyone knew your dirty secrets.
“You mean, at least I let him marry me,” Tara corrected her. “Best thing that ever happened to him.”
Tara was conceited, but correct. She and Darby were clearly the best things in Diego’s life and he loved them both like crazy. He acted like Tara hung the stars. Now I was sorry I had outed him as a Roy’s customer.
I picked up one of the books, this one from my year. I flipped to my senior picture. We all wore the same strange off-shoulder top. I held a rose and looked like I was giving it side-eye. Not my best picture. Cassie and I looked at each other and laughed. “Why were you afraid of the rose?” she asked me. I laughed again.
“Oh man, look at this one,” Tara sighed. “Those were the days.”
It was a shot of the football team after a win, all of them shirtless and running toward the camera to jump past the photographer into Lake Michigan. Luke was right at the front, a huge smile on his face. Oh, sweet Mary and the baby Jesus.
Cassie studied the picture dispassionately. “Yeah. He was definitely the best-looking guy there. Nice ass.” She ran her finger over the picture. “Him, him, him, and…” she thought for a minute. “Him, too.”
“No, you did not,” Tara said. “That’s Jacob Kaczmarek. He went to seminary! He’s a priest now!”
Cassie shrugged.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“We’re talking about the guys we did in high school.”
“What?” I squeaked.
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Emmy, you’re such a prude. Are you still saving yourself for marriage?”
“No!” I protested, immediately flaming red. There had been that time in my freshman year dorm room in December after my boyfriend’s Organic Chem midterm. I had helped him study and he thought he had aced it. We celebrated with a five minute, painful and embarrassing trip to Sex Town. Then he broke up with me over the semester break. Oh, the memories.
“You’re totally a virgin!” Tara gasped.
“No, I am not!” I protested. Experienced? Not so much.
“Whatever,” Cassie said, bored with my sex life. She turned a page to the hockey team picture. “Him, him again, him, him,and him.”
“Cass, that’s the coach!” I yelped. “His wife was my English teacher!”
“Yeah, he sucked, too,” she commented. “My senior year, one time and one time only.”
