My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters (18 page)

"That was strange," Katie said. "They insisted that
you
deliver the flowers."

"What? Was it a guy? Stalker Guy from the Gold Dust West?"

"No, it was a woman." Katie sat down, ripped open another box, and pulled out fern cuttings. "She said you'd recognize her."

"Oh?" Oh, no! That snippy receptionist was going to seek revenge for my ruining some old biddy's retirement luncheon and then knocking over that sapling. She'd drag me out to the desert and throw the flowers at me; I'd have to survive on the droplets of water left in the vase and whatever insects I could catch. That was two weeks ago to the day. Wednesday.

"Wait! Katie, I can't. I've got to take cakes to the Jewel Cafe."

"I'll take care of that." Katie smiled. "Helen has been bugging me to stop by and see the whole operation, so it'll give me a chance to catch up with her. We can just close up for an hour."

I let out a sigh. That had been the one thing I'd looked forward to this week: the possibility of seeing Gideon. Joking about his feet. Staring at his mouth when he wasn't looking. Imagining what all that dark hair would feel like if I dared to reach out and touch it.

"Time for frosting." Katie jumped up. "Will you wash up and help me mix a batch while I get some sheet cakes in the oven?"

I spread a wet towel over the mixer, turning it on low while the powdered sugar combined with the shortening. The thick smell of sugar and butter-flavored Crisco hung in the hot kitchen as I pulled the rubber-bandy part of my hairnet away from my forehead for a minute so a red line wouldn't form.

Katie pulled a hot cake pan from the oven and set it across from me to cool. Office-birthday-party cake. I turned the mixer on high and whipped the frosting into fluffy peaks. Katie separated the frosting into small bowls and added color to each one; watching her slather thick frosting across the cake, squeezing roses all around the edges, I wondered if I'd ever want to eat birthday cake again.

"Um," I said as Katie handed me a small bouquet of sunflowers and daisies for the mystery delivery. "If you're taking the van, I'm not sure how to get these flowers to wherever they're going."

"Take your car. I'll reimburse for the gas, if that's bothering you."

"Um." I rubbed the tip of my nose. "I don't have my car with me, exactly. I, um, rode my bike to work."

"Don't you live up off McCarren?"

"It's an easy ride down." I thought about how my stomach whooshed—the closest I'd ever get to feeling in love—when I'd flown down Skyline that morning. "It's the way home that's a bit rough."

Actually, Tyler had picked me up every day since Megan had been fired. It was as if my dream had finally come true. I had a boy who cared about me. Except it felt too much like blackmail and he had no desire for a girlfriend. Ever. Maybe I'd accidentally made one of those uncareful wishes where you leave out the crucial details, like a
heterosexual
boyfriend.

Katie looked at me. "Let me get this straight. You're a delivery girl, but you don't have a car?"

"Oh, it's mostly an exercise thing. You know, staying in shape." I smoothed my hands over my hips like Mom always did. "All that stuff."

Katie raised her eyebrows, shaking her head.

"Okay, drop me off at the Jewel and take the van, but come back and get me promptly—no traffic jams, coffee stops, or flash floods—at one."

My hands got sweaty as I put the key into the ignition. I hated the pressure of driving Katie, of having her watch me. Flashback to why I failed my driver's-license test four times: the big guy with the clipboard made me nervous (for that matter, so did the skinny woman with the clipboard, the old guy with the clipboard, and the bearded guy with the clipboard). Katie leaned back and closed her eyes, but I noticed her death grip on the door handle; I eased the van away from the curb and begged for green lights the whole way. At the Jewel Café I helped Katie carry the cakes into the kitchen. No Gideon. No violin. A bunch of gossiping ladies sat around wolfing down cake and saying mean things about their husbands.

"I told him the only foreplay I wanted was a clean kitchen floor," one woman said. All the others laughed.

As I left, Katie handed me the address for the flower delivery: the park rangers' house at San Rafael? Weird.

"Remember to pick me up by one," Katie called.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into San Rafael Park, locked up the van, and searched for the rangers' building. Wind blew my hair around my face; heavy clouds gathered around the mountains, but the sun still zoomed down to create massive nose freckles. A few petals blew off the bouquet. I imagined some burly ranger chewing me out like a rabid Smokey the Bear.

"Over here, Jory."

I looked around. Gideon stood under a tree. His hair puffed over his eyes in the strong breeze, but his luscious mouth smiled at me.

I froze like a wedding-reception ice sculpture. Confused. What was he doing at the park? Did Katie send him here to help me find the rangers' station?

He held up a basket. "Surprise!" He laughed at me. "I'm taking you on a picnic."

"Oh? But I have—" I felt really stupid holding the small bouquet of flowers. "The rangers' office?"

"They're for us. You can't have a picnic without flowers," Gideon said. "Come on."

He walked up the hill toward the duck pond. I hung back a bit, still holding on to the flowers, feeling like a total dork. I looked around to see if there was anyone I knew. Thank God. Just a bunch of little kids and moms with McDonald's bags rattling in the wind.

"You're staring at my ass, aren't you?" Gideon lurched ahead like Frankenstein. "Walk this way."

I laughed, but there was no way I was going to do anything like that in public, even if it was only in front of five-year-olds. My hair streamed out behind me as I followed Gideon through the blustery playground. He stopped by a tree fluttering its leaves, pulled a blanket out of his backpack, and put it on the ground, but it flapped up around his ankles.

"I ordered a sunny day, but damn if I didn't forget about the wind." He brushed his hair away from his face. "Hurry and sit down."

I knelt down on the blanket. "So you had this whole thing planned? Does Katie know?"
Is that why she insisted on having lunch at the Jewel Cafe?

"Helen helped me." He handed me a cloth napkin. "I know, I know. A guy shouldn't need his mom to get a date."

This is a date?
I felt my face flush, so I let my hair blow across my cheeks. Gideon reached over and pushed my hair away, then scrunched it behind my ear in a way that totally tickled my neck. I'm sure my face glowed like raspberry-glazed cheesecake.

"Blond hair does not go with chicken pesto sandwiches." He handed me a sandwich wrapped in paper. Our fingers touched.

"Did you make these yourself?"

"Of course.
Not.
" He smiled. "Helen. Again. She's afraid I'm going to be a desperate old bachelor who will never leave home so she can finally listen to her disco music in peace."

I managed a giggle and bit into my sandwich, mostly because I couldn't think of anything to say. I felt funny chewing in front of him. Did it make my nose look strange? What if I got something stuck in my teeth?

"Oh, no. Not a courtesy laugh. Already."

"I'm just—surprised?" My voice sounded too squeaky.
Stick to eating.

He shook his flip-flops off his feet and wiggled his toes. "In a good way or a bad way?"

"This is good." I took another bite, and then another, finishing the sandwich and going for some chips. "Really good."

"The picnic or the sandwich?"

"Both." Face. Red. Again.

He folded one knee so it touched mine. I stretched my legs out in front of me, tucked them back, sat cross-legged, then put them out, back, under, like some kind of weird Olympic floor routine.

"Ants in your pants?" Gideon licked a bit of avocado off his lip as he finished his sandwich. I stared at his mouth.

"What are your big brown eyes looking at?"

I threw my napkin at him. "Stop it. You're making me too nervous."

"But you're cute when you're nervous. Like a wiggly puppy."

He put his hand on my knee as I started to scoot my legs underneath my butt again. The tips of his fingers felt rough. Thank God I'd shaved my legs this morning! I left my legs out straight. He pushed
my
flip-flops off
my
feet and touched his toes to mine. A zing jolted through my body.

Gideon reached over and plucked a daisy out of the flower bouquet and stuck it behind my ear, leaning in close. "You smell like birthday cake," he whispered.

His black hair swept against my cheek. I reached up and touched his soft curls. He looked at me with his dark brown eyes, tilted his head, leaned closer, and kissed me. Our noses bumped. I pulled back and hid my nose with my hand.

Gideon laughed. "That's supposed to happen."

He took my hand in his, intertwining his fingers with mine, and kissed me again. Longer.

After buying ice cream Megan, Hannah, and I drove to a deserted-at-ten
P.M.
kiddie park near Hannah's house. Lying across the hood of her mom's BMW, Hannah posed like a swimsuit model, pouting her lips and making kissing noises.

I hadn't told them anything about Gideon yet.

I kind of liked keeping the moment to myself. No one could analyze it except me. I mostly just relived it, sometimes adding exotic variations like Gideon kissing me on the chair-lift at Mount Rose; Gideon kissing me in a gondola in Venice; Gideon dressed as a knight sweeping me away on a white horse; Gideon kissing me in the park under a full moon. I looked over at the deserted playground.

Megan handed me a plastic spoon. I dug into the carton of Neapolitan ice cream, eating my section of chocolate. Megan always ate the vanilla and Hannah the strawberry. During our first-ever slumber-not party, we'd laughed about how we were meant to be friends because there was an ice cream flavor just for the three of us.

"I can't believe you're leaving us, Meggie." Hannah sucked ice cream off her spoon. "How long are you going to be gone?"

"Three weeks." Megan scooped ice cream at a rate that reminded me of Mom on day 3 of the Ice Cream, Cookie, Potato Chip, and Onion Dip Mad-at-Dad Diet. Finn and I loved it.

"My mom called my dad and begged him to take me," Megan said with a full mouth. "Pretty pathetic. I was listening, but she didn't know it. So she comes into my room and says, 'You'll never guess who called! Your dad wants you to come visit and he was hoping you could take time off work.'" Megan snorted. "As if
that
were an issue." She heaped more ice cream on her spoon, half of it from my chocolate, and rolled her eyes. "She has such issues with my dad, but at least I won't have to sit around here moping and thinking about Tyler's sexuality issues."

I took a tiny bite of chocolate ice cream. "He doesn't exactly have issues. He just
is,
you know. Gay."

"Well, I'm going to buy school clothes that will make him wish he were straight."

Hannah laughed. "Maybe he'll want to go shopping with you."

"That's kind of a stereotype, isn't it?" I sighed. "The whole shopping thing. I mean, Tyler doesn't really—" On the way home from work yesterday, Tyler had said something about how he hated all the expectations and stereotypes people felt they had to live up to. Like our moms thinking they had to be so skinny; men having to love watching sports and not being allowed to show emotion; girls always trying to act sexy, not intelligent. I thought he had a real and valid point.

"He totally dresses gay! All those silk shirts and expensive shoes." Megan waved her spoon around, and a drop of ice cream landed on my knee. "I should've noticed. He was the only guy at work whose socks matched."

"You know, he might be having a hard time with this too." I stuck my empty spoon in my mouth. Tyler told me he'd been feeling depressed but couldn't talk to a counselor because his parents might find out about
everything.
The look on his face had kind of scared me.

"Hard time!" Megan laughed. "That's what he's hoping for."

Hannah leaned over, laughing and spewing ice cream all over her legs.

"Wrong word choice." I sighed. "I really mean it, though. Tyler said he'd die if anyone found out. He sounded so desperate. Not like Tyler at all."

"When did you talk to him?" Megan looked at me and pointed her spoon like a finger.

"He took me to lunch." I didn't want to say anything about the daily rides home, not yet.

"Oh, how cozy, Jory." Megan sounded snide. "You know he still doesn't want to be your little boyfriend."

"I know that," I said. "But he might need a friend." I brought all of my hair over my left shoulder and twisted it around my hand. "It's just that he's been feeling kind of alone with all of this."

Megan spooned a big glob of
my
chocolate into her mouth. "Sounds like quite a lunch."

"Well, actually, we've been talking more since then." I flipped my hair back. Forget it. I said it quickly: "He's been giving me rides home from work so I don't have to bike." I took a breath. "Uphill and all."

"I don't know, Jor. Your humongous crush and everything." Hannah tapped her spoon against her darling button nose. "You need to move on. Hey, Alex has a brother who's a sophomore. A total cutie—we could double-date."

Why couldn't they understand that I still liked Tyler as a person? All the reasons I had had a crush on him still existed. He was still funny and smart and nice. And gorgeous, even though that one didn't matter so much anymore. I sighed. "I'm not going to date a sophomore. You're the one who told me to find more mature men, right?"

I nipped the inside of my cheek to stop myself from mentioning Gideon, even though I'd been dying to tell someone, anyone, besides my bathroom mirror and the diary I only wrote in a few times a year. I had exactly three entries:

August 25. First day of school. I'm going to write every day.