Becca (7 page)

“What? Like a bus?”

“No. I mean I can’t see
you alone.”

She smirked. “You don’t
know me, Alexander.”

“That’s true, and here’s
something
else
I don’t know.”

“What’s that?”

“Your name. I don’t know
your name.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Cross my heart.”

“I never told you my name?”

“Nope.”

“Oh my God,” she laughed,
and she covered her mouth with one of her hands. “Oh my God, isn’t that weird?”

“Well,” Bert said, “not
if you weren’t ever going to see me again.”

She pulled a dollar bill
from her purse and dropped in on the table. Bert protested but she would not
hear of it and stood up, brushing past him before he had a chance to hand her
back the money.

In the parking lot, he
caught up with her. “You’re done with me now? You’re taking me home?”

“Yeah. I think we talked
enough, and I can’t think of anything else to do with you.”

“Thanks for the Coke,”
Bert said as the Mustang’s engine roared to life.

“You’re welcome.”

They were back across the
bridge before she spoke. “Well, if you
must
know, the reason why I
wanted to talk to you tonight was to tell you that I came to the conclusion
that you were right about Greg and me.”

“In what regard?”

“That we are not like
salt and pepper or apple pie and ice cream. We’re just not compatible.”

“Sorry.”

She shrugged. “Not as
sorry as I am. I have to explain this to my father. He won’t let me date
anybody else but Greg.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen, so why do you
need your father’s permission to date anyone?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Shorten it.”

She glanced at him. “No,
I can’t.”

“Oh, make a left at this
light.”

They turned left and started
up a steep hill that had numerous stop signs. “You walk this in fifteen
minutes?”

“If I walk fast.”

“If you don’t walk fast.”

“Twenty or twenty-five
minutes.”

“Thanks again for lying
for me,” the girl said suddenly. “You know…my father.”

“He was pissed off, and I
got the impression he wanted to confront me, and was more pissed off when he
couldn’t.”

“I told him I talked to
you…only I said you were Josh—who you
are
but not
really.
I can’t
lie to him, so I didn’t really
tell
a lie. Anyway, he might come back
again to talk to you because he thinks something is up.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t. He doesn’t
trust me. Oh…well…maybe he has reason to—or
thinks
he does.” She sighed
heavily. “He doesn’t want me to date anyone but Greg, but he thinks I’m
screwing Greg because Greg told his father we were, and his father told mine. But
we’re really not, and even if Greg wanted to, I don’t know if I would. But I’m
thinking that my father probably
wants
me to screw Greg so that I won’t
revert to my old ways and get mixed up with someone he doesn’t like. At the
same time, he’s worried that Greg is losing focus because of all the screwing. But
Greg lost focus all by himself. And on top of that, my dad thinks that I’ve got
my sights on a guy named Josh—who is
you
of course. I’m not saying I
have
my sights on you, but he
thinks
I do because I told him I’d talked
to you…I mean a guy at the gas station and that’s why I was a little late
getting home. He came around to the gas station to see if he could spot this
guy Josh and he
did,
but he didn’t know it. He wanted to see if Josh
looked like—” She paused and stared at the street in front of the car for a
second. “It would drive him insane if I was getting mixed up with a guy like
you…oh, I’m
sorry,
Josh—”

“A guy like me?”

“I’ll explain…later. But
this is all so complicated, ain’t it? And I’ve said too much. I need to shut
up.”

“So shut up.”

“But I can’t. I mean…when
I’m with you, all I want to do is talk.”

“Yeah, I know what you
mean.”

“You do? I’m confusing
myself.” She offered a weak smile.”

Bert shrugged as he
processed the information just thrown at him. “I
d
o understand,
whateveryournameis. Believe me.”

She smiled now and patted
his hand. “You’re funny.”

“You’ve told me that
before.”

“And you’re really nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks for listening to
me.”

“My pleasure.”

“Really?”

Bert nodded. “Yup.”

“So what’s with us?”

“What do you mean?”

“We hardly know each
other and we’re talking like we’ve been friends for a long time.”

“Yeah, crazy, huh.”

“Can I ask you
something?”

“Sure.”

“Have you
ever
had
a girlfriend?”

“No.” Bert shook his
head. “I think I mentioned that before.”

“Yeah, I probably wasn’t
listening. Why in the heck
don’t
you have a girlfriend?”

“You sound like my
mother.”

“And what’s your answer
to her?”

Bert said, “I’m too dark
for some, too light for others.”

She favored him with a
long stare at the next stop sign.

“You know, there
is
no
go
sign. You can go now,” Bert said.

She shook her head slowly.
“That’s crap.”

“No it’s not—there’s no
go—”

“I mean about you being
too dark or too light. That’s crap.”

“It’s the truth.”

“You’d make a great
boyfriend.” She stepped on the gas. “And that’s not flirtery; that’s flattery.”

“Why thank you. At the
next street make a left.”

She turned down the
street and then, at Bert’s gesture, pulled over to the curb. “Is this where you
live?”

“Yup. This is it.”

She smiled and then said.
“Thanks for having coffee with me.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks
for inviting me.”

She nodded, sighed, and
said, “And now I must face the wrath of my father. I walked out on him.”

“You were arguing?”

“Not really…well, yeah,
because he accused me of messing around with Greg.” She paused and then said
suddenly, “Some guy went to Vietnam because of me.”

The subject changed surprised
Bert. “What? He went to Vietnam for you?”

“No,
because
of
me.”

“Uh…well....” Bert was
not sure how he should respond. Her gaze gave him no clue. He said, “And I was
worried because you took me to Harmarville for Pete’s sake.”

The girl hesitated, blinking
her eyes as if to ward off tears, and then she burst out laughing, leaning her
forehead against the steering wheel. Her shoulders heaved and shook her head
slowly, slapped her thigh a couple of times and then Bert’s and finally
bringing herself under control she leaned back in the seat and took some deep
breaths.

Bert loved her laugh. It
sounded as though it had been wanting out for a long time. “Feel better?” he
asked.

She dabbed at her eyes. “Yes.”
Her voice sounded sad in spite of her outburst of laughter. Looking sad and on
the verge of tears, she nodded at his house and said, “Looks like someone is
waiting up for you.”

“Yeah, my mother.”

“How sweet. Does she wait
up for all of you?”

“My brothers don’t live
here.”

“Well, it’s nice that she
waits up for you.”

“She’s going to ask me a
million questions.”

“Well they won’t be like
questions I’m going to get.” She opened the door and got out with Bert, stretched,
yawned, and came around to the passenger side to offer Bert her hand. “Thanks
for listening to me, Josh.”

“I enjoyed it…er…um…Miss?”
He loved the warm softness of her hand in his.

“Oh, yes, I forgot. You
don’t know my name. It’s Rebecca Smith.”

“Rebecca Smith. Becky?”

She shook her head. “No. Don’t
ever
call me Becky. Okay? It’s Becca, or Rebecca. But never Becky.”

“Okay, Becca.”

“And if you’d like
perhaps we can do this again. I mean…if you’d want. You know, just go somewhere
and talk…just talk.”

“Sure, why not?”

“Oh, so you don’t care
one way or another?”

“No…sorry. I would like
to listen to you again.”

She smiled. “Good night.”

“Good night, Becca.”

IV

Greg’s car sat in front
of her house. Becca parked behind it and as walked to the front door, it opened
and Bill stood beside Greg. Greg’s eyes barely met hers, while Bill glared at
her.

“Becky,” Greg said when
she stepped onto the porch.

“You had us worried,”
Bill said, adding too much feeling to his voice.

“Where did you go?” Greg
asked.

“Where’s Mom?” Becca
asked.

“She’s inside,” Bill said.
“She’s been crying all evening.”

“It’s not a wonder,” Becca
said sharply.

“Where did you go?” Greg
asked again. He looked away when her eyes struck his.

“I went to get some
coffee, Greg.” She walked past the two men and went into the house. Her mother
was sitting in the kitchen with a half-empty cup of coffee in front of her.

“Rebecca, honey!” her
mother said as she stood up and hugged her daughter. “I was so
worried
! You
were so upset when you left.”

Bill and Greg joined them.
Becca stood at the table next to her mother.

“Greg said you called
him, you two had a fight,” Bill said.

“We didn’t have a fight,”
Becca said, “I broke up with him.”

“Why?”

“Ask him.”

“I
did
ask him. He’s
very upset, Becky. He came over hoping to find you here.”

“Becky,” Greg said, “I
need to talk to you.”

“I’m tired.” Becca
started rubbing her leg. The pain had flared up again.

“We
need
to talk.”

“It’s late,” Becca said. “I’m
going to bed.”

“Becky,” Bill said and
blocked the door to the hallway when Becca started for it. “You can
not
walk
away from this. Sit down and let’s talk.”

“Honey, please,” her
mother said and grabbed her hand.

“Mom, I’m tired. My leg
hurts.”

“Why does your leg hurt?”

“I don’t know. It just
does. It’s nothing.

“Honey, sit down please.”

Becca sat.

“Now,” Bill said,
striking a match and lighting his pipe, “what’s this about you breaking up with
Greg?”

“That’s private.”

“No it’s not. Not when he
comes here and tells us about it.”

Becca looked at Greg, who
could not meet her eyes with his. “What did you tell them?” He cleared his
throat and started to speak, but Becca would not let him. “You’re so good at
making up stories, what story did you tell them? Did he tell you—
Dad—
that
we’re not salt and pepper?”

“What?”

“That we weren’t apple
pie and ice cream?”

“Becky, what
are
you
saying?” Bill demanded.

“We’re not a good couple,
that’s what I’m saying.’

“You’re a
perfect
couple.”

“We’re not a
real
couple, Dad. We’re not a
match
.”

“Becky,” Greg touched her
hand.

“You
lied
, Greg. We’ve
never
had sex.
Have
we?”

Greg blushed. “We need to
talk.”

“We
are
talking.” She
turned her attention to her father. “You asked me tonight if I used protection
and you accused me of making him lose focus. You didn’t believe me when I told
you we hadn’t done anything. Now you ask Greg. Ask
him
and see what he
says with me here, face to face.”

Bill said, “You’re
talking gibberish, Becky.”

“Don’t wait for him to
ask you, Greg.
Tell him!”

Greg sighed. “She’s
right.”

“You don’t have to lie
for her, Greg,” Bill said.

“I’m not lying for her.”

“You told your father you
and my daughter had been together.”

He nodded. “Yes, I said
that.”