Though I grappled to put the last pieces together, the puzzle had been solved. Looking back now, I could see all the signs were there.
My sophomore year in high school, when Livy and I were having a sleepover, I’d found her in Ron’s room propped up on his bed, flipping through his albums in her nightgown. She didn’t want to come back to my room even though I had asked her to.
That should have been the harbinger.
There was the time I had looked everywhere for Livy and found her in the basement dancing with him. I’d never thought anything of it. We always danced with Ron when our parents were away.
The times Livy had sneaked off with him at the University Club to smoke cigarettes should have been another clue, as well as the many occasions she had hitched rides home with Ron from school. It had all seemed normal. She’d told me she considered Ron the brother she never had. Sure, she flirted with him, but she did that with every boy.
The unanswered questions tumbled through my mind like balls in a bingo cage.Where is Livy’s signet ring now? Is it still underneath Rosie’s bed? Was she in love with my brother three years ago, or did she just want to go all the way with him, like she had with John Dearing?At that moment, I didn’t know all the answers. All that mattered was that I had been lied to by my very own brother and my very best friend, two people I should have been able to trust.
Something else occurred to me. It had the worst sting of all. It was Livy’s fault my brother was in Vietnam.Not mine.I had been stupid and left my diary on the bed for my nosy parents to discover, but Livy was the one to seal his fate. Even more despicable, she knew I blamed myself.
Livy Foster was the most screwed-up individual I had ever met.
There was only one way to extricate myself from this quagmire. I had to get the hell away from her. That instant.
Woodstock
Day Two
Saturday, August 16, 1969
11:45 p.m.
I squeezed my lips together to keep from screaming. The last thing I wanted was to pull Leon into the quicksand with me, but if I didn’t get away from Livy, I’d have to go to the medical tent myself.
Sopping wet, with my arms wrapped around my chest—as if that could keep me warm—I peered at Leon in desperation. My words tumbled out in a jumbled mess. “I’m trying to be a good sport, but I just found out something horrible. Everything makes sense now. I should have known. I’m such an idiot. I wish I had—”
“Slow down, little darlin’. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
My teeth chattered. “No, it’s not.”
“Sure it is.” He draped an arm around me, tucking me inside his chest with a firm grip. “What the hell happened?”
“I want to tell you, but ...”
“But what?” His voice radiated tenderness and calm, especially when he lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m complicated.”
His smile calmed me even more. So much so I stood on my tiptoes and kissedhim.
“You aren’t complicated,” he said, once my lips left his. “You’re here with Livy. That’s what’s complicated.”
“I need to take a permanent leave of absence from her. Right now.”
His response was a hearty laugh.
“It’s not funny.”
“Sorry. It’s the way you say things sometimes.”
“Can we please sit somewhere else?”
Without hesitating, he bent down and picked up his backpack.
As quickly as the relief arrived, something dawned on me before I reached down to gather my things. The best of Woodstock was yet to come. All Leon’s favorite bands were due to perform thirty feet from where we were standing. I didn’t have to be a Harvard student to know this night would be historic. Creedence Clearwater Revival and Janis Joplin, Sly and the Family Stone, the Who, and Jefferson Airplane would be performing. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to leave our prime piece of territory. On top of that, how could I ask him to leave Johnny, when he was moving to Canada on Monday?
