A Small Town Dream (10 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Milton

BOOK: A Small Town Dream
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You know
, Annie thought to herself,
I wouldn’t mind being
that kind of girl
at all
.

 

That kind of girl
is pretty terrific.

 

She flipped her pancake, smiled at its perfection and resolved to step away from all the drama and just enjoy the last few months of her high school career.

 

10

 

“Just
tell
me,” Parker insisted. He blocked her way.

 

“Tell you
what
, Parker?” Annie snapped. It had been a week since the pancake breakfast, and she finally felt that she could put the silliness behind her and just live. After the New Year’s party, Parker and Connie appeared to be fine. She ran into Parker alone a few times, and it had been…okay. Recently, though, he found ways to stir things up, especially to try to corner her as he was doing today.

 

“What is it
exactly
that you need me to tell you?” She pushed past him out the door, intending to head for home.

 

It was a rare day for her. No homework, no meetings no clubs. She wanted to lock herself in her room and read
On the Road
again. She had read it three times now and still wasn’t done absorbing it. Despite the strange feelings it aroused, she still loved it. It spoke to her. So she decided to make it
her
book, not just one that Parker happened to give her, but her own.

 

Parker followed, calling for her to stop, but she ignored him. After several minutes, she realized she couldn’t hear him any longer. She turned around to find him gone.

 

“Good,” she said to herself, “maybe he’s finally done. Maybe
we’re
finally done.” Her relief lasted only a few steps, however. Then relief turned to sadness. Part of her wished Parker would still pursue her, and that they would still steal kisses, and still hold hands, and still be—

 

“Be
what
?” she demanded of herself. “Dating? A couple? Deceiving Connie? What
would
we still be?” Her cheeks burned, so she put her head down and walked faster. All she wanted now was just to be
home
.

 

But half a block from her house, she froze. Parker’s car was in the driveway, and he was sitting on her porch, drinking a glass of milk and eating cookies.

 

“What are you doing here?” She skirted him as she walked up the steps.

 

“Your mom makes incredible cookies,” he said through a mouthful of chocolate chips.

 

“Parker—”

 

“We need to discuss a student government problem.” He smirked. She dropped into the porch swing, her backpack hitting the floor. He took a sip of milk, then picked up another cookie.

 

He looked ridiculous with a milk mustache and chocolate bits in the corners of his mouth. Any other time, it might be disarming. His attitude, however, sitting with his back toward her as if she didn’t exist, combined with his infantile munching on cookies, was too much. She couldn’t resist a dig. “Aren’t you supposed to be emulating your
hero
? Kerouac only ate apple pie and ice cream while he wrote that book.”

 

Because his back was to her, Annie couldn’t see his eyes narrow for a moment, or his lip begin to curl. She did see his back stiffen, just for a second. Then he stood and brushed cookie crumbs off his black jeans. He finished his milk in one swallow, set the plate and empty glass on the top step, and pulled out his car keys. “Take a drive with me…
Anne
?”

 

“No.”

 

“I’d like to talk to you.”

 

“OK. Have a seat.” His fist clenched the keys for a moment, then relaxed. Annie moved to go into the house.

 

“Anne, wait.” He took a step forward. “I really do want to talk to you.” Whatever he was trying to sell, she didn’t want any. But Annie had been raised to be polite, so she sat back down and indicated the chair across from her.

 

“If you want to talk, talk. Right here. But I’m not going anywhere with you.” He saw that she was serious, so he sighed, then slumped onto the top step and picked at the cookie crumbs on the plate.

 

“Tell me it’s just because of Connie, Anne.”

 

“Tell you
what’s
because of Connie?” She couldn’t read his expression. “I don’t know what you mean, Parker. I’m not trying to be difficult. I honestly don’t know.”

 

“I know you’re not. Trying to be difficult, I mean. You’re not like that.”

 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She hated having to put him off, so she was relieved he wasn’t holding anything against her. “So, Parker, please just tell me—”

 


You
please just tell me.”

 

“Tell you what? Parker, I don’t want to play games.” He suddenly looked jittery.

 

“Listen, Anne, I kind of need a cigarette. Would you come out into the yard with me? I don’t want to make your folks mad.”

 

“Well…” she hedged, looking at his car. He saw and laughed.

 

“I promise I won’t try to drag you off anywhere. I just need a smoke.” He gave her the puppy-dog look she couldn’t resist and allowed him to lead her over to lean against the tree nearest the sidewalk.

 

She watched as he went through the motions of lighting his cigarette. The shaking out of the pack, the tapping on the lighter, the quick flick of the Zippo down and up his leg. It was…

 

Erotic
. The word popped into her mind and scared her to death. She had to force herself to not run into the house.

 

Parker lit the cigarette, took a deep drag and held it a long time. He leaned against the trunk of the tree, his free hand stuffed in his front jeans pocket. Then he exhaled and said, “Tell me that the only reason you and I are not together is Connie.” Annie could barely breathe.

 

The way he looked at her. His face so handsome, his eyes so passionate, and she knew how smart he was. She didn’t need him to be a lawyer. She didn’t need him to change or to follow some predetermined path. She just needed
him
.

 

On impulse, she held out her hand, and he took it. She looked at their intertwined fingers and remembered the image she had at the pancake breakfast. What if Parker was there on Sunday mornings? What if
he
was the father of her children? What if
he
was sitting at the table, helping
their children cut their pancakes, making jokes, laughing, making her love him even more?

 

“Anne,” he said, snapping her out of her daydream. “Can you tell me?”

 

“I think of Dean Moriarty,” she said, and when he cocked his head to the side, she laughed. “No, Parker, it’s not just because of Connie. It’s because you’re not this person you’re trying to be for everyone else, and I see that. It’s because...”

 

“Because what?”

 

“Oh, Parker, I love you. I really do. I’ve never been in love before, and it’s amazing. Really. Despite the insanity of the situation, I
like
being in love. I like being in love with
you
.” She brought his hand to her face and brushed his knuckles with her lips. “I don’t
regret
any of this. I mean, I’m surprised that I would act this way, that I would betray a friend, but we stopped before there was any real damage. And it certainly didn’t deter your libido with Connie.”

 

“Anne—” he began, but she lightly bit his hand. He yelped.

 

“Let me finish my answer, Parker,” she said, now lightly caressing the fingers she’d just bitten. “If you
weren’t
with Connie, you and I would never have gotten close. You’d never have given me the book, and we’d never have had this connection. Connie is more than just your girlfriend. She’s the reason we came together. So it’s
partly
about her, but
mostly
because it’s not the right time.”

 

“Why not, Anne? What does time have to do with it?”

 

“You’re going
places, and that’s exciting. I’m staying here, and that’s perfect…for
me
. Your parents want one thing. Connie needs you to free her. The last thing I want is to be one more person making demands. I can’t be like that.” He lifted her fingers to his lips.

 

“That’s maybe the best thing about you. You don’t take. You just give.” She blushed. He turned his head to take another drag on his cigarette, and then turned his face so that the smoke didn’t get into her hair. She could watch him smoke all day.

 

“You know, Parker, if I
didn’t
love you, if I was just this racy little thing with no morals, I’ll bet I could…” He turned to look at her, something going on behind his eyes.

 

“Could what?”

 

“I could be…I don’t know, your…girl on the side.” She laughed. He didn’t, but he did begin stroking her hand with his thumb.

 

“I sound like a romance novel, don’t I? Your
girl on the side
.”

 

“That wouldn’t be so—”

 

“Yes, it
would
be so bad. Parker, I love you, and that means I
have
to say no. You need your adventures, and I believe Connie is part of that. School’s almost over. Go to prom, make her happy, and then do what
you
want to do.” She thought she saw tears forming in his eyes. “Parker? Has anyone really asked
you
what it is that
you
want?” She looked into his eyes. She knew she’d hit on something and tried to let go of his hand.

 

“Don’t let go, Anne.” She hesitated, then left her hand in his. “You’re right. No one’s asked
me
, not really.
Connie asks what I want, what I’d like, what I’d…” He blushed and looked away. Annie knew he meant.
Connie asks what I want in the bedroom.
She didn’t say it aloud, but he did. “I know you know exactly what I mean. But, no, nobody asks. Not even you, Anne. You’re not
asking
. You’re
telling
me what to think, and how it’s going to be.” She sighed, then squeezed his hand again.

 

“OK then, I’m asking. What, Parker Levitt, is it that
you
want to do?” He looked up to see her grinning.

 

“OK then, Anne Stewart, I’ll tell you. I want to travel, but not Europe. I don’t get why people have to ‘go to Europe’ when they haven’t seen much of
this
country. I want to meet strangers, to sample religions, to fill thousands of pages in a journal. I want to go to state fairs, and car races, all in
other
states, and make a fool of myself singing in front of a bunch of strangers.” He paused, worried he’d said too much, but she smiled and nodded.

 

“Keep going. What else?”

 

“I have dreams now. Ever since I visited New York. I dream, and there are little pieces of from when I was a kid. And all of this,” he swept his hand, “all of
this
, I want to do with you.” He let his head fall back in relief to have it all finally
out
there. She squeezed his hand again.

 

“Thank you for telling me, Parker,” she said. “It sounds perfect…for
you
. But not for me. I don’t want to travel like that, be on the road with no real plans. Why doesn’t anyone believe me when I say I’m not leaving Rockland? Do they think I’m looking for someone to finally come up with one last reason that’ll make me change my mind? I’m happy here. I want to live
here
, get married, grow old, have children, even be buried here. Right
here
. I can see myself next to my parents, and my husband, right here in Laurel Hill Cemetery. I want to live here my entire life, and I’m serious. You do need adventure, though, Parker, but you’re going to have to find it with someone else, not me, because this is where I belong. This is where
I
feel alive. This tiny, goofy little town makes me happy.”

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