The Other Boy (15 page)

The little red building in front of them almost glowed in the slanting sunlight, which glinted on the tin roof. Dad hadn’t been down here with the weed-whacker yet, so the long grasses lay in dry yellow swathes speckled with purple wildflowers around the foundation.

Maddy unlatched and heaved open the big doors. The cream-painted walls glowed in the light-filled room.

They had left the floors natural, but the planks were almost white from scrubbing. The rollers, paintbrushes, tarps, and paint cans were piled in a corner. The furniture and rug still hadn’t arrived, so their footsteps echoed in the bareness. On an old table lay a big bunch of lavender Maddy had picked yesterday in an attempt to cover the paint smell.

“Wow!” Brian said in a goofy voice as they entered.

“What time is the organic vegan yoga class?”

Maddy tried not to let her face show how much the comment wounded her. “I’ve been working really hard.

David and I have been out here every day for like a month.”

“I’m just teasing you, Mad! You’ve really lost your sense of humor since coming out here. I guess country living just sucked it all right out of you.” Brian sat down on a barrel and took off one of his Reefs to examine his foot. “I’ve got a cut on my toe—I think I stepped on something.” He looked up. “You mind if we head back to the house?”

Maddy sighed. “Sure. I’ll find you a Band-Aid.” She took one last look around the empty, silent room with the dust motes floating in the beams of sunlight and rolled the big doors shut with a rumbling thud.

As she followed Brian up the path to the house, she chewed over his comment about the vegan yoga class.

Something was off. After a minute, it came to her: Just a few months ago, that was exactly the kind of comment she would have made herself, or at least laughed at. Now she thought it was obnoxious and ignorant. The sinking feeling that had been growing in her chest all afternoon suddenly felt worse. She shook her head.
Look, Maddy,
she told herself,
you’ve wanted to see Brian all summer—

obsessed about it, actually. Now he’s here and it’s a gorgeous
day and you’re
together
. So just stop overanalyzing everything
and enjoy the time you have.

Even as she psyched herself up, she knew that making this visit fun would be an uphill battle.

Maddy! Come on, we’re ready,” Maddy’s mother called from downstairs.

“Okay, coming!” Maddy examined herself carefully in the full-length mirror in her parents’ room. Her long, strapless white cotton sundress had a full, gathered skirt and a tight empire bodice. It just brushed her ankles and showed off her golden tan. She had twisted her hair up into a casual knot at the back of her head. A chunky enamel bracelet in red and blue was her only jewelry.

There was a tap on the door frame. She turned around.

“Hey, babe,” Brian said.

“Hi.”

He had put on a blue button-down shirt and wet his hair down under the faucet. A leftover water droplet hung at his temple. He looked sexy as always.

“You look great,” he said, coming into the room.

“Thanks.”

“I brought your birthday present.”

Her heart lifted. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all. “What is it?” She sat down on the edge of the bed.

He sat down next to her and took a box out of his pocket. He smelled like Davidoff Cool Water and hair gel.

Maddy looked into his face. “You’re so sweet, babe,”

she said. “You didn’t even ask me what I wanted!”

“I know. I didn’t have to. Anyway, open it.”

Carefully, she pried open the little blue box. Inside was a huge silver heart pendant on a black silk cord.

Maddy stared at it for a second and then remembered. A few months ago, she and Brian had been window-shopping in Union Square. They had just gotten Starbucks, and Maddy had stopped in front of a display of jewelry in front of Tiffany. The heart pendant shone on a bed of gray velvet. “Ohmygod, look at that gorgeous thing,” she’d said, tugging at Brian’s sleeve. “That would look so perfect with my summer tops.” She’d cast a sly, meaningful look at Brian.

“Dream on, babe,” he’d said with a laugh. “Sunny just got that same heart. It’s like fifteen hundred dol-lars.”

She had forgotten about it almost immediately, but Brian hadn’t, obviously. Now here it was, right in front of her and she honestly couldn’t have cared less. It looked different to her now, splashy and sort of cheap, for some reason. Maddy looked from the box to Brian’s face. He was grinning, anticipating her reaction. So she did the only thing she could—she faked it.

“It’s gorgeous!” she said. “I can’t believe you remembered!”
It really is thoughtful,
she told herself.

“I can’t believe I did either. It’s like a miracle or something.”

“Here, put it on me.” She handed him the box. He lifted out the pendant and placed the cord around her throat, struggling a minute with the tiny catch at the back.

Maddy stood and looked in the mirror. The heart shone on her tanned chest, but something about the modern, sleek design looked out of place with her white dress and the simple room around her.

Brian came up behind her and put his arms around her waist, watching their reflections in the mirror. “It looks awesome on you,” he said. He kissed the side of her neck and then slid his hand up from her waist.

Maddy giggled nervously.

“Come on—we’re in my parents’ room!”

“So?” He tried to kiss her again.

“Go away. I have to primp some more. Go talk to my Dad or something.”

Brian rolled his eyes and reluctantly headed toward the door. Maddy could hear his footsteps slowly descending the stairs. She turned back to the mirror and covered the heart up with her hand. Outfit perfect.

She removed her hand. Outfit weird. Maddy massaged her forehead, where a headache was starting to squeeze her temples, and followed her boyfriend down the stairs.

“Happy birthday, honey!” her mom sang out as she entered the kitchen. “You look beautiful. I can’t believe I have a daughter who’s turning seventeen!” She put her arms around Maddy and gave her a long hug.

“Thanks, Mom. I can’t believe I’m seventeen either—

kind of amazing.” Maddy looked around the kitchen. A stack of plates was sitting on the table, along with a few bottles of wine, but there were no signs of cooking.

“Where’s all the food?”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” her mother said airily, busying herself with a vase of flowers.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Maddy asked, confused.

“Just that—I don’t really know where the food is.

Maybe the raccoons ran off with it.”

“Ha-ha. Something’s up, Mom. You’re terrible at keeping secrets.”

Her mom picked up the vase. “You’re right, honey. I’ll tell you—we’ve decided to take you out to McDonald’s for your birthday.” The screen door banged behind her.

Maddy followed her onto the porch. “Very funny.”

Her mother set the flowers on a little table. Maddy leaned against her side and laid her head on her mother’s shoulder. Standing hand in hand, they were silent for a moment, listening to the peepers. Until Maddy realized something. “Um, Mom, where’s Brian?”

“He’s in the living room with Dad. They’re having a nice chat.” Maddy doubted that somehow. She’d better go rescue, well, both of them.

The soft, familiar colors of the living room glowed in the orange light of the lamps. Maddy paused quietly in the doorway. Neither her father nor Brian noticed her standing there. Darkness pressed at the windows, and the wooden coffee table was piled with books and copies of
Practical Winery & Vineyard
. Her dad was sitting in the big armchair, his legs crossed, one hand swirling wine in a glass. Even from the doorway, Maddy could see that he was gripping the glass more tightly than necessary. Brian sat in a studiously casual pose on the green velour sofa, arm flung over the back, ankle crossed over knee. He tapped a little on the sofa arm and whistled under his breath. Her dad looked strained.

“Ah, so … how do you like the vineyard, Brian?” he asked politely.

“It’s really nice.” There was another silence. “Really cool.”

“Yes, well, we can’t expect much the first year, of course, but after this fall we’re going to double our vine capacity,” Maddy’s father said with more vigor. Brian’s gaze started to wander. Her dad trailed off. The silence descended again. Her dad started to fiddle with the edge of a newspaper at his elbow.

“So, Maddy tells me you’re going down to L.A. after this weekend?”

“Yeah, my buddies and I are staying with some people in Malibu.”

“Oh, I see.” Silence again.

Maddy thought that if she had to listen to Brian and her father make any more small talk, she was going to pull her hair out by the roots. Why did he always clam up like that around her parents? Sure, they were a little odd sometimes, but they were just parents, she thought.

He acted so stupid and stiff around them. “Hey, guys,”

she said brightly, entering the room. Both of them turned toward her with obvious relief.

“Hi, honey!” Her dad practically leaped to his feet.

“How’s the birthday girl?”

“Great.”

“Come on, you all, it’s time for the birthday girl’s dinner,” her mother said, sticking her head in the room.

“Are you coming?” Maddy asked Brian, who was still sitting down.

“Yeah.” He took his time getting off the sofa. Maddy followed her mom into the kitchen and stopped short just inside the door.

“Mom!” she cried. “I can’t believe you brought the crown!” Sitting on the scrubbed round kitchen table was an object that resembled a Burger King crown with schizophrenia. It actually
was
an old Burger King crown—practically museum-quality. Dried macaroni, old pieces of faded yarn, shells, and plastic beads were stuck all over the gold cardboard with a liberal, crumbling layer of Elmer’s glue. Maddy had made the crown at her own princess-themed sixth birthday party. Everyone had had a glorious, sticky, messy time decorating their own crowns. On the front, Maddy had written maddy birthday girl in careful, wobbly print. She remembered being so proud that she’d made the
G
facing the right direction.

The crown had been preserved and trotted out every year until Maddy finally forbade its appearance at her twelfth-birthday pool party. Her mother had seemed to understand at the time, and the crown hadn’t reappeared since—until now.

Maddy looked at her mom and dad. They were grinning. Brian stood in the doorway, looking confused.

“You know, guys,” she said, “at first I thought that, since I’m seventeen, a tiara from Cartier would be nice, but after seeing this crown again, I’ve totally changed my mind.” Her parents applauded as she placed it on her head and bowed, trying to keep the crown from crashing to the floor.

“Here, honey, get in a picture with Dad.” Maddy’s mother was wielding the digital camera. Obligingly, Maddy and her dad draped their arms around each other’s shoulders and smiled. Then her father took the camera and everyone shuffled around.

“Now one with your mom.”
Click.

“Okay, now me and Brian,” Maddy said. He was still standing forlornly in the doorway. “Come here, cutie.”

He came over. She put her arms around him and gave him a hug. “Are you having a good time?” she whispered.

He looked down at her. “Yeah, of course,” he said, as if there were no other possible option.

“Okay, kids, smile!” Maddy’s dad aimed the camera at them.
Click
.

“Let me see, Dad,” Maddy took the camera and everyone bent over the tiny screen. She paged through a series of photos of the grapevines and the house before coming to the ones they had just taken. There were general murmurs of “Cute!” and “Good one” at the pictures of Maddy with her parents, but when she came to the one of Brian and her, everyone squinted at the screen.

Maddy could see why—it wasn’t very good: Brian had his eyes closed for one thing, but it wasn’t just that. His clothes looked too harsh and dark against the soft wood of the background and her white cotton dress, and they were standing kind of stiffly, their arms around each other’s waists. It looked like they’d just met and had been told to stand still to have their photo taken.

“Well!” her mother said, turning away. “Very nice.”

Maddy could tell by the tone of her voice that her mom had noticed the dissonance also. Maddy tried to quell the tiny worm of worry inside her. Things were a little off, but they’d been apart for a while. Right now she and Brian were together—that was what mattered.

Where are we going, Mom?” Maddy asked. “I’m starving.” She was starting to get a little annoyed. It was already nine thirty, and for the last ten minutes, she, Brian, and her parents had been weaving their way through the grapevines, up and down different rows, as if they were hunting something. Maddy’s full skirt brushed her ankles as she walked. The full moon cast a ghostly white light over the field, and an abun-dance of stars were flung across the inky black sky.

Was this some sort of pre-dinner scavenger hunt her parents had cooked up? She could hear Brian’s footsteps behind her. Up ahead, the adults reached the end of a row and turned right, disappearing.

“Oh, here you are! We were lost. I forgot where you …” The rest of her mother’s words were lost in an indistinct mumble.

What the hell was going on? Maddy walked faster and finally broke into a trot. She turned down the row her parents were in and skidded to a halt so fast that Brian, close behind her, almost sent her sprawling into the dirt.

There, in the middle of the grapevines, was the most beautiful feast she had ever seen, spread on a simple white cloth. Bunches of lavender, grasses, and daisies stood in big pottery pitchers down the center of the long table.

Candles in clear glass holders were scattered between the flowers, spreading a warm yellow glow over everything.

Vineyard tomatoes and thick white slices of fresh mozzarella with basil stood at one end. A bowl heaped with arugula, endive, and radicchio was liberally sprinkled with—Maddy laughed—blue cheese crumbles.