See You at Harry's (19 page)

Instead of going home, we go to the restaurant. The dining room is empty except for one older couple sharing a banana split.

I sit at Charlie’s favorite booth and get my homework out.

“Want me to make you a milk shake?” Sara asks, suddenly standing over me.

“No, thanks,” I say.

But she doesn’t walk away.

“I got Mom to come to work today,” she says quietly. “She’s upstairs.”

I nod.

She sits across from me. “I talked to Dad,” she says. “And I want you to know, I don’t think what happened is your fault.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “You have to know that. And I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

I try to pull my hand away, but she squeezes harder.

“I just — I blamed myself, too. Just like Mom. If we’d been watching him so you could do your homework, it wouldn’t have happened.”

And for a minute, I want to say,
Yes,
you’re right. It was your fault, not mine. If you’d been doing your job, he would have been with you instead.

But he was with me.

And it wasn’t because they were neglecting him. Not really. He was with me because he wanted to be.

“I was the only one who could have stopped him,” I say. Deep down, everyone knows that. “But I couldn’t. He was so fast. He just took off and —”

“Don’t you get it?” She squeezes my hand again. “There are a million things we all could have done to change what happened. But we didn’t know. We couldn’t. And we can’t go back and do those things now. It just happened, Fern. Not because of Mom. Not because of me or Dad or anyone else. And not because of you.”

I close my eyes because I don’t want to cry.

Sara reaches for my other hand and holds mine tight inside hers. “No one blames you, Fern. I promise.”

I raise my eyes so we’re staring into each other’s souls. I never thought she knew about the tell-me stare, but it feels the same.

“I believe you,” I say.

She pulls our hands toward her and lays her head against them. “I love you,” she whispers.

The bell on the door tinkles. She lifts her head, and we both look toward the door as Ran and Cassie walk in.

“We thought you might need help catching up,” Cassie says when they get to our table.

Sara smiles and gets up so they can sit with me. “I’ll be upstairs with Mom.” She walks away before I can respond. Before I realize I didn’t tell her I love her back.

Cassie sits across from me and scoots along the seat to make room for Ran. If Charlie was here, he’d squish himself right between them. He’d hand Doll to Cassie, and he’d snuggle his head against Ran and ask for a story. And Ran would tell him one because that’s the kind of person Ran is. And I would feel jealous.

Instead, the three of us just sit quietly. They get out their homework and give me their notes. But when I open my notebook, my pen feels so heavy. And everything just seems too hard.

“I’m getting a sundae,” Ran says. “What do you guys want on it?”

Cassie smiles. “Everything.”

He comes back with three spoons and a giant bowl overflowing with so many toppings, you can’t see any ice cream. I slide all my stuff into my backpack, and we start to eat. For the first time, I can taste. I taste the sugar and vanilla in the fresh whipped cream. The chocolate sauce and butterscotch. We eat spoonful after spoonful. It’s so much easier to eat than to talk. When we finish, we all lean back. Ran finally takes off his zipped-up sweatshirt. He’s wearing his be T-shirt.

“Let’s try again,” he says. And this time they help me take notes, and we talk a little bit about school, and they remind me that the homecoming dance is coming up. It’s a huge event for the middle school and high school because it’s one big dance. Every year, a group of parents gets together to try to separate the two groups, but there’s always another group that fights for the tradition, and they all end up agreeing to have more chaperones instead. Sara thinks pretty soon there will be more chaperones there than students.

As Cassie talks about the dance, she keeps glancing over at Ran with a hopeful look in her eyes, but he doesn’t ask her if she wants to go.

When it’s time to leave, Sara offers Cassie and Ran rides home, but they say they can walk. They each give me a hug and head off together. I wish I could go with them.

In the car, Sara drives, and my mom sits in the passenger seat. She leans her head against the window. I thought after last night, she would be more aware of the rest of us. Of me. But now I wonder if the hug in the hall will be my last one. I know it’s selfish and awful of me, but I wonder if she would have been this sad if it had been me instead of Charlie. Charlie was her special joy. I know that. I never felt like the special youngest child before Charlie was born. Only that one day when I was sick. Most of the time I felt like the extra kid to clothe or take to the dentist. But when Charlie came along, my parents totally changed. They doted and coddled and adored. They filled a baby book with all of Charlie’s firsts, while my own baby book remained mostly blank except for my birth date and how much I weighed. They called Charlie their autumn surprise. He was their gift. And I always wondered what that made the rest of us.

But I realize now, he was my gift, too.

I touch my ear.

I love you, Ferny.

Why didn’t I know it? Why didn’t I pay attention? I don’t want to be the youngest again. I can’t be.

At home, I go straight to my room and shut the door. I pull the answering machine from under my bed and plug it in. I press the side of my face against the speaker and wait for Charlie’s happy, proud voice to vibrate against my cheek and imagine his sticky fingers are touching me. I play the message again. This time I put my hand on the speaker, as if mine is touching his. And listen again and again.

“Fern!” Sara calls from downstairs. “Dinner!”

I play the message one more time, trying to hold the words and his voice inside, even if they are a lie. Then I carefully put the machine back under my bed.

A
T DINNER
, my mom has a big glass of wine, and my dad has some sort of amber-colored liquor in a glass. We’re almost done by the time Holden shows up. When he comes in, his cheeks and lips are rosy red. He looks like he has a little of the glow he had the first time he came home from being with Gray. Until he sees my dad’s expression.

“Where have you been?” my dad asks. He’s on his fourth glass. He never drinks this much, and he seems different. At first, I was glad when he said he was going to come home to be with us for dinner from now on. But now I’m not so sure.

“At the library,” Holden tells him. “Remember? I told you I’d be there.”

“You said you’d be home for dinner. We were worried.”

Holden looks at the time on his cell phone. “It’s only seven thirty. Sorry I’m a little late.” He sits down and reaches for a serving dish of rice.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” my dad says.

“What?”

“You come late, you pay the price. No dinner.”

“Are you kidding?”

I look at Sara, who is staring at our dad like he’s a stranger.

“Go to your room,” he says.

“What am I, ten?”

My dad slams his fist on the table. “Don’t you talk to me in that tone! I said go!” Now he’s scaring me.

Holden looks around at each of us as if to say,
Has Dad gone crazy?

My mom reaches out for my dad’s arm like that will help calm him down, but he brushes her off.

“Come on, Dad. Let him have some dinner,” Sara says.

“Don’t!” my dad yells. “Don’t tell me what to do! You shouldn’t be hanging around with that . . . that boy. He’s too old. It’s not right.”

“Oh, give me a break. You don’t care how old he is. Why don’t you say what you’re really afraid of, Dad?”

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re afraid he’s my boyfriend. You’re afraid that I’m gay. Well, guess what? You’re right! Is everyone happy now? I’m gay and Gray is my boyfriend, and you’re just going to have to deal with it!”

My dad stands up and stumbles, knocking his chair over. “No. I do not have to deal with it! That boy is too old for you! He’s probably eighteen or nineteen, for God’s sake. You are fourteen years old, Holden!”

“George, please calm down,” my mom says quietly. “Holden, we support you.”

“We most certainly do
not
!” my dad yells. “It would be one thing if you were seeing someone your age. But this is unacceptable!”

“I support you,” I say. “Gray is nice. Who cares if he’s older?”

“Me, too,” says Sara. “Gray’s OK, Dad. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t care if he’s
OK.
He is too old for Holden, and that’s final.”

“What do you mean ‘that’s final’?”

“You’re not to see him again.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“George, let’s talk about this later,” my mom says quietly. “You’ve obviously had too much to drink.”

“Forget it. I’m outta here,” Holden says. “This family is insane.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” My dad starts to walk toward Holden, but he’s already out of reach. The door slams as Holden takes off once again.

My dad just stands there, as if he doesn’t even know how he ended up where he is.

This is the time in the conversation when Charlie should be piping up with some random comment to break the tension. It’s quiet, as if we’re still waiting for him. It’s strangling us.

“I give up,” my dad finally says. “I just give up.” He storms upstairs.

My mom drinks the rest of her wine and goes after him.

“That went well,” Sara says sarcastically.

“I’ve never seen Dad like that,” I say.

“He’ll come around. He’s just drunk. I think he was really worried when Holden was late — that’s all. He just freaked out. It’s normal to worry more after everything that’s happened. He’ll be fine once he gets used to the idea of Holden and Gray.”

“You really think so?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. I do. He’s just crazy right now. I mean, he’s always a little crazy, but —”

“But not mean. Not like tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Fern. Mom’ll talk to him.”

“What about Holden?”

“Holden knows how to take care of himself. He always has. And thank God his secret is finally officially out of the bag. At least now we can all stop pretending.”

She gets up and starts clearing the table, so I do, too.

“Dad’ll come around, Fern,” she says. “I know he will.”

Right. And Mom will get back to normal. And everything is going to be fine. All will be well. Maybe we can stop pretending about Holden. But what about everyone else?

A
LL THAT WEEK
, Holden and my dad avoid each other. After school, Gray picks up Holden, me, and now Cassie and Ran, and we go to the restaurant to do our homework. Mona brings us snacks, and we make our own sundaes. Then they leave. Somehow, this gets me through the week. But every day away from
that
day makes me feel more lost and away from Charlie. So the first thing I do when I get home is go to my room, shut the door, and listen to his voice.

The following Monday, Sara’s back on car duty. On our way to school, Holden turns around toward me and grins. “So, Fern, did Ran ask you to Homecoming yet?”

I feel myself blush. “No. We’re just friends. Plus I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel like having fun.”

“Oh, come on, Fern. It would be good for you,” Sara says.

“It totally would,” Holden says. “And Ran is so cute.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Then go as friends!” Holden says.

I picture me and Ran at the dance. Me in a dress, him in a shirt and tie. We look strange. Ran and I belong in T-shirts and jeans.

“Isn’t anyone going to ask who I’m going with?” Holden asks. He’s smiling like a goofball. He looks like he did that night he came home just before my dad went psycho.

“Seriously?” Sara asks.

“Yup. I told Gray about it last night, and he said yes.”

“Wow,” I say.

“We’re going shopping for tuxes after school. Want to come with us, Fern?”

“You’d want
me
there?”

“Yeah! It’ll be great! Gray will take us after school. We could totally use a girl’s opinion.”