“Huh? Oh, nothing,” I say. “I was just thinking.”
“About something sad?”
I hold her a little closer and force myself to smile. “Nah,” I say. “No worries.”
She rests her head on my chest again and holds me back.
“Liar,” she whispers.
As the next song starts, I know before I turn around that it’s my dad playing. And when I see Larry’s face, I realize I’m not the only one my dad used to play the song for. Tears slowly slip down Larry’s cheeks as he stands there, staring at my dad and his guitar. My dad. Playing this slow, sad lullaby with a voice that sounds different from the one I remember. My mom walks over to Larry, and they start to slowly dance together.
“I thought you said your dad’s band was lame,” Stella says quietly. “I think he’s really good.”
“He doesn’t play like this with his band,” I say. “At least, he didn’t used to.”
She rests her head on my shoulder again and I try to hold her close like before, but somehow it suddenly feels so much harder. For some reason, she feels so heavy. I look over at Gil and Gene, who dance together holding Ben between them. He reaches his pudgy hand for Gil’s glasses and laughs. Gil smiles, and Gene gently pulls Ben’s hand away, so gently that Ben doesn’t mind, but laughs again. The three of them move to the lullaby like a rocking chair, back and forth. My mom reaches for Larry’s face and wipes his cheeks dry. Arielle is dancing with her dad, and she does the same for him.
“What’s wrong?” Stella asks. But she doesn’t reach up and wipe my face, thank God. I close my eyes and listen to the music. Feel the weight — the life — of Stella against me, knowing that soon I will have to let her go.
My dad keeps playing, and we all keep slowly rocking to the lull of his deep, steady voice. He sings about love and heartbreak and closing your eyes, and promises of what will be when we wake up. I imagine those dreamed promises to be true for everyone listening. But for me, there’s a void there. An emptiness.
When the song ends, everyone claps like crazy and begs my dad to play more. Larry comes over and asks if he can cut in, so he takes Stella away, and my mom comes over and forces me to dance with her, which isn’t really that bad, even if it feels awkward.
“Dad’s incredible,” I tell her. “He’s really improved.”
“It’s the drinking, mainly,” she says. “He’s so much better when he’s sober. And —”
“What?”
She glances over at him. “Oh, I don’t know.”
But I can tell she does.
“What?” I say again.
“Do you know he told me he was afraid he couldn’t play sober?”
I shake my head.
“He was scared. He thought he was going to have to give up both.”
“What changed his mind?”
“I asked him to try.”
We listen together for a while. Then she says quietly, “We’re still going to counseling.”
“Is everything OK?”
She looks over at him. “It’s been a long year, but yes. I think so. We know what we want, we just need help getting there. But we will eventually.”
“I’m glad,” I say.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did. You made it happen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“When you left, the two of us were completely ripped apart. From each other and inside ourselves. I couldn’t stop crying. And your father, well, he wanted to comfort me. I guess that was the big moment for him. Realizing he wanted to. That he still cared about me. I nearly fainted when he came into the room one day when I was crying and he held me.”
“Uh, not sure I need these details.”
She laughs again. I still can’t get over how much younger she looks.
“I just meant that it was this big moment. When he sat down on the bed, I could have sent him away. I admit, that was my gut reaction. But when I looked in his eyes, I saw my old Hal. The one who used to gaze into my eyes all the time. And I could see the love there. And . . . I don’t know. I think maybe it took your leaving to make us realize all we had and all we lost. We decided that what we lost was worth a lot more than what we ended up with. I guess we both decided we would at least try to get it back. Especially you.”
“Mom —”
“I know, I know. You’re leaving for college. But we have a month or so together this summer, right? Dad wants to give you a job at the garage. And we have all these things we want to do. Like go to concerts. Did I tell you your dad and his band got a new regular gig?”
“Gig?”
“They’re playing at O’Reilly’s every Saturday. It’s a lot better than the American Legion!”
“Wow.”
She sighs and gives me a squeeze. “Things are getting so much better, Josh. I just wish we’d gotten our act together sooner.”
Yeah.
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry we were so . . . stupid.”
“No worries.”
She studies my face for a minute. “I’m really proud of you. Every time Larry sends a weekly update, your dad and I read the e-mails over and over. Who knew Larry would be the best thing that could happen to you?”
“Weekly updates?”
“He sends us an e-mail every Sunday to tell us what you’ve been up to. Didn’t you know?”
“No.” I guess he kept the promise of letting my mom know how I was doing for me.
“He’s such a good guy. He loves you so much. He’s going to make the best dad.”
“Yeah,” I say. “He’s been pretty great.”
When the song ends, I give her a hug and go sit down again. Dave looks completely wasted, but Caleb seems OK.
“He’s drowning his sorrows,” Caleb says.
“I can see that.”
“Who breaks up right before prom?” Dave asks sadly. “I mean, c’mon.”
“You’re better off,” Caleb says. “Way better.”
“Whatever.” Dave takes another drink. “We’re getting back together. I know it.”
“Easy. I don’t want you puking in my car on the way home.”
“That’s what windows are for.”
“Gross.”
“It’s nice to see you guys haven’t changed,” I say.
“It’s nice to see you have.” Caleb smirks.
“Funny.”
“Seriously, though, I’m glad things are better,” Caleb says.
“Yeah.”
Dave finishes his glass and looks down the table for another bottle.
“Don’t even think about it. You’re cut off,” Caleb tells him.
Dave turns back to me. “I guess you must be wondering how you-know-who’s been doing.”
Caleb gives him a shove.
“What?” Dave looks all innocent.
“Dude. Way to kill the mood.”
“Hey, she seems great, so what the hell? I thought he’d want to know.”
“I wouldn’t say great,” Caleb says.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Well, I mean, she’s fine, but . . . you know. She seems pretty lonely. No boyfriend or anything.”
“Does she still hang out with Corinne?” I know if the answer is yes, that means she’s hanging out with Caleb, too. Which means he knows a lot more than Dave and also a lot more than he’s telling me now.
“Yeah,” he says.
“She’s looking hot,” Dave says. “She cut her hair and started working out and stuff.”
“She takes yoga with my mom and Corinne,” Caleb says. “God, Dave.”
“What?”
“It’s OK,” I say. “I’m glad she’s doing well.”
“See?” Dave says.
Caleb shakes his head. “Anyway. Yeah. She’s doing well. She’s good.”
“Who’s good?” Stella asks as she hobbles over to us.
Caleb and Dave both turn to me.
“Just a fr
iend,” I say.
Dave does not smirk, which I’m grateful for.
“Larry and Arielle are about to take off,” Stella says.
Caleb and Dave get up. “We should go, too,” Caleb says.
“You guys should stay over,” I tell them. “I’m staying at Larry’s until he gets back from his honeymoon. You could crash at his place. You must have had to get up pretty early to make it here for my graduation.”
Dave yawns.
“Wish we could,” Caleb says. “But we have to get back. We have to go to a training session at the park tomorrow. We start work there right after graduation.”
“We’re park rangers!” Dave says. “Smokey Bears!”
Caleb rolls his eyes. “We’re doing maintenance stuff at the park. Mowing lawns, picking up trash. It’s gonna be a blast.”
“Our park?” I ask.
“Yeah. Kind of funny, huh? We’ll finally get to ride that damn lawn mower.”
“It’s gonna be awesome!” Dave slurs.
I laugh. When the three of us were kids, we used to beg the guy who mowed the lawn at the park to give us a ride, but he always refused.
“We’ll see you in a week, right?” Caleb asks.
“Yeah. I’ll see you then,” I say. “Thanks again for coming. You guys are the best.”
“No prob, man.” Caleb gives me an awkward chest-hug thing and then whispers in my ear, “Good luck with Stella. She’s cool.”
Dave tries to hug me but trips and I have to catch him. I would not be looking forward to the ride home if I were Cay.
As I watch them leave, I feel a twinge of . . . I don’t know. Sadness, I guess. I missed my whole senior year hanging out with them. But the truth is, today pretty much sums up what every day is like with them. We meet up. We talk about meaningless crap. We drink. We joke around. That’s it. I’m not saying we need to have deep conversations or anything, but . . . I don’t know. Sometimes I really wonder what else there is. I still miss them. I still miss having someone to hang out with who doesn’t care about what I eat or drink or whatever. Someone who knows about my past and still wants me around.
“You OK?” Stella asks.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah. I’m fine,” I say. “How’s your foot feeling?”
“It’s all right. I get to ditch these things in two days, and I can’t wait.” She shakes her crutches like she wants to strangle them. “Can I get a ride back with you, by the way? The lovebirds are going back to Calvin’s.”
“Of course,” I say. “Is everything OK with you and your mom?”
“She said she was sorry and she’d make it up to me. I won’t hold my breath.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad she’s finally happy. This is the longest she’s gone out with someone since I can remember. Maybe it’ll work out. I hope so. Less guilt when I leave for college, right?”
“Right,” I say.
Arielle runs over to us and hands Stella her bouquet. “I think you’re the only single lady here, sweets, so here you go.”
Stella blushes. “Thanks! It’s beautiful.”
She kisses the top of Stella’s head. “Just like you.”
Larry comes bopping over and takes Arielle’s hand. “We’re gonna jet!” he says. “You’re sure you have everything you need, Sammy?”
“Yeah, I’m all set. Clover will be fine.”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving us,” Larry says.
“You’ll be OK,” I say. “Arielle is a good replacement.”
“That’s true.” He winks at me.
“Have a great honeymoon!” Stella says. We give them hugs, and then they both dance their way out of the room while everyone claps.
And they lived happily ever after, I think.
I hope I’m right.
My parents, Stella, and I drive back to Larry’s and we order takeout, even though we aren’t hungry. As we pick at our food, my mom keeps repeating how beautiful the wedding was, and Stella keeps telling my dad how much she loved his music. I feel like I’ve entered some weird dimension of my life that was never meant to happen. A year ago, I don’t even know who was more of a mess: me or my parents. But now, here they are. Here we are. Sitting together like it’s something we’ve always done.
My mom starts in on how she’s worried about me staying at Larry’s by myself for a whole week, but Stella assures her she’ll look out for me. I don’t really think this has the reassuring effect she intends, but my mom doesn’t say anything.
Finally, my dad stands up and stretches. “We should probably hit the road,” he says, stifling a yawn.
My mom sighs. “We’ll see you in a week, honey. We can’t wait to have you back home.”
I nod.
“We’re so proud of you,” she says for the millionth time.
Stella and I follow them to the door, and I step out in the hallway to watch them walk down the stairs. When they get to the bottom, they look up and wave. “See you soon! We love you!” my mom says.
I wave. “Drive safely,” I say, like I’m the dad. Before the door closes behind them, I call out, “I love you, too!”
I am ashamed to realize this might be the first time I’ve ever told them that.
“So, what do we do now?” Stella asks when I go back inside.
I shrug. “Jackie Chan marathon?”
“Tempting.”
I sit next to her on the couch. “Aren’t you going to the graduation party?”
She leans her head back and stares at the ceiling. “Nah. I think graduation parties are overrated.”
“I doubt that.”
She laughs. “I’m not in the mood, I guess. I already said good-bye to my friends. Besides, they’ll all be hooking up with their boyfriends, and I’d be left by myself. No, thanks.”
I lean back and stare at the ceiling, too. “This has to be the lamest way to celebrate graduation in the history of graduating.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Yeah. Me, either.”
“Let’s just make popcorn and watch a movie, OK?” she asks.
“You could really eat popcorn after all we ate today?”
“In honor of Larry. And can I borrow some sweats or something? This dress isn’t really movie-watching material, and I think I overdid it on my foot today.”
“Want me to go up and get you some clothes?”
“You don’t have to. I don’t mind borrowing something, if you don’t mind lending.”
I find her a pair of sweats, which are enormous on her, and a T-shirt, also enormous, and we watch movies until two in the morning. After I doze off for the fourth time, I finally tell her we should crash.
“Can I stay here?” she asks.
“What about your mom?”
“It’s after two and she hasn’t called to check in. I don’t want to stay alone. Again.”
“No worries,” I say. “You can crash in Larry’s room.” I help her to his bed and hope the sheets aren’t too gross. But she seems too wiped out to care.
“I should brush my teeth, but I’m too tired,” she says.
I’m about to tell her not to kiss anyone, then, but I realize how lame that is. And also, I don’t want to throw the idea of kissing out there right now and make her think I want to. Not that I don’t. I think.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask. “Glass of water?”
“I’m all set.”
“OK. See you in the morning.” I turn to leave, but she calls me back.
“Hey, thanks for everything, Josh. I’m really glad we’re friends again. I wish — I wish I didn’t shut you out the way I did. It was wrong.”
“Forget it,” I say. “I’m glad we’re friends again, too.”
She smiles and rolls over. “See you in the morning, friend,” she mumbles.
“See you.”
In my own room, I check for texts and see that Caleb and Dave made it home safe, though apparently Dave puked on the side of the road two times.
&n
bsp; Clover comes in and jumps on the bed and rubs against me. She purrs softly and paces back and forth against the side of my body. “It’s OK, I’ll come back and visit,” I tell her. But she keeps pacing.
I shut out the light and look up at Larry’s smiley-face stars.
“I really will,” I say again. I hope it’s true.
I wake up to the sound of a distant pounding.
It takes me a minute to figure out that it’s coming from the hallway. The door. Someone’s pounding on the door.
I sit up, pull my sweatpants on, and run out to the hall.
Stella comes out at the same time, hobbling without her crutches. She’s wearing just my T-shirt, which comes down almost to her knees.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I know you’re in there!” a voice yells from the other side of the door.
Shit. I mean, it’s the Shit.
Stella leans against the wall. “Not now,” she says, exhausted.
I squint through the peephole to see if he’s alone or if he brought any friends to help him bust down the door.
I am not prepared for what I see.
I expected him to look angry.
I expected him to look like he wanted to beat the crap out of someone. Namely, me.
I did not expect him to be sobbing like a baby.
I step back from the door and sigh.
“What?” Stella asks.
I motion for her to see for herself. As she squints through the hole in the door, I swear I can see her anger melt away.
“What do you want to do?” I ask.
She hesitates, then says quietly, “I want him to go away.” But it doesn’t sound like she’s sure about that.
“Stellaaaaa,” Britt whines from the other side of the door. He sounds like Larry imitating Rocky. Only way more pitiful.
And sincere.
“Go away!” Stella yells.
“I just want to talk to you!” he cries. “Please!”
His voice is desperate.
Stella steps farther away from the door. “I don’t want to talk to him,” she says quietly.
I move farther away, too. “I don’t think he’s going to go away.”
Britt bangs on the door again. “Please,” he says, more pitifully. “I have to see you!”
“Maybe you should let him in,” I say. I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth. By the look on Stella’s face, I can tell she can’t believe it, either.