The Accidentals

  Aurora shakes her head. She’s been silent and sad for more than a week. We’d guessed that she’d had a breakup, but she didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Okay.” Jake sighs. “But we’re going to drag you off for dinner in a little while, okay? Friends don’t let friends miss pasta-bar night.”

  Aurora smiles. “I’m sorry to be so little fun. I’m happy for you both, though. And I’m glad you’ll be in the same town as me next year.”

  “That’s right,” he says, running a hand over my bare knees. He tilts his head back on the sofa and closes his eyes. I slip my fingers between the sofa and Jake’s back, rubbing the bare skin under his T-shirt.

  One unfortunate result of the sudden end of Aurora’s secret romance is a loss of privacy for us. Aurora is home all the time now, barely leaving, even for classes. Jake is a good friend to Aurora, but these days he looks at me the way a hungry man eyes a buffet table.

  Together, Jake and I poke around on the Claiborne College website. Ten minutes later, Aurora gets up to go to the bathroom. As soon as the door closes, Jake slides the computer to the floor and climbs on top of me. The kisses I receive are thermonuclear.

  “You know she’s coming right back.” I laugh.

  “Shh…precious nanoseconds wasted,” he says, kissing me again. “How about we go discuss our college courses in your bed?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Aurora says, reentering the room.

  I’m not cavalier enough about the whole fooling-around thing to make such an obvious retreat. I gave Jake a gentle push. “Come on, now. Back into a vertical position.”

  “I’m always in a vertical position,” he says, sighing.

  My phone bleats with Frederick’s ring tone.

  “Hi Rachel,” he rumbles into my ear when I answer.

  Even now—after almost a year—he’s able to startle me simply by saying my name. “What’s up?”

  “There’s another concert next weekend. This one’s in Massachusetts. Bring Aurora this time.”

  “Cool. Can Jake come too? We’re celebrating! Both of us got yesses from Claiborne College.”

  “Nice. I knew you would, though.”

  “But I didn’t know. Can Jake come along?”

  “Well… Let me ask if there’s room in our reservation.”

  “He could bunk with Henry,” I suggest.

  Frederick laughs into my ear. “No he can’t, because that will cost me in other ways. I’ll get Henry to add a hotel room. But nobody gets drunk this time.”

  “We’ll stick to drugs only.”

  “You can drop that comedy course you’re taking now,” Frederick says.

  “Back atcha, old man.” I hear him laughing when I disconnect.

  * * *

  Some arrangement for Jake is made, and on the day of the concert, Jake and I meet up with the band at Wheelock’s. We walk in to find that Henry has taken over a large area in back. I wave to Ernie, who’s brought along his girlfriend. They’re perched on sofas, munching appetizers with the other musicians. My father and Norah are conferring in a corner.

  Darcy the waitress sidles up to me. “What can I bring you, sweetie?”

  “A Diet Coke? Thanks.”

  “Is this your boyfriend? What a cutie.” She rubs Jake’s biceps, and he looks startled. “What would you like to drink?”

  “A Coke would be fine, thanks.”

  “Coming right up.”

  I watch Darcy make the rounds. She’s in her element, refreshing drinks and petting musicians with her shiny fingernails. And I’m not the only one who finds it a little weird. Across the room, Norah’s eyes flicker with irritation.

  My father comes over to join us, putting an arm around my shoulder. “If it’s still okay with you, I’m going to buy that house on Choate Street.”

  We lock eyes for a beat. Melting down in that empty house isn’t something I’ll forget anytime soon. But you don’t get to choose the big moments in your life. “You should buy it,” I say. “Good plan.”

  “Thank you,” he says, and we both know we’re talking about more than a real estate purchase. He kisses the top of my head. “Now I only need to convince Norah.”

  “She doesn’t want the house?”

  Before he can answer, she comes over, offering her hand to Jake. “Hi, I’m Norah.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he says. Today his T-shirt reads, Darwin is my Homeboy.

  “She says she likes the house,” Frederick complains. “But she’s taking forever to negotiate the purchase.”

  “Chill out, will you? The house is overpriced,” Norah says. “They’ll agree to the lower number. They’re just waiting a few minutes to save face.”

  “Tell them I’ll pay it.”

  “No!” she says.

  A cheer rises up from the booth in the corner. “Go Norah. Go Norah,” Henry chants. “I get all excited when somebody else bosses Freddy around.”

  My father checks his watch. “But we’re supposed to leave.”

  “That house has been for sale for six months. It’s not going anywhere.” At that, her phone rings. She checks the caller’s name and winks at Frederick. “Hello? Hi, Debbie… Oh, you don’t say!” Norah gives Frederick the thumbs up. “That’s really good news. I’ll tell him.”

  “I can’t believe you pulled that off,” Frederick mutters.

  “You want it signed today? Well, I believe the client is at Wheelock’s for a few more minutes before he leaves town for the weekend. I can meet you there.”

  When she hangs up, Frederick picks Norah up and kisses her. “How much money did you just save me?” he asks her.

  “A couple of semesters at Claiborne College,” she says. “Now unhand me, so I can at least pretend to be a professional.” She straightens out her shirt. Norah is just starting to show, and I’ve been sneaking looks at her rounder belly. “Debbie wants you to sign an offer sheet. It’s just one page.”

  Two minutes later, an older woman with a poof of gray hair teeters into the restaurant on impractical heels. I see Norah’s face close up as she approaches. “Afternoon, Debbie.” They are obviously not friends.

  “Norah.” Debbie nods, handing her a page.

  “Thank you.” Norah reads it quickly. “Subject to inspection…good. Okay.” She hands the page to Frederick.

  Debbie beams up at my father. “It’s a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Ricks.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Debbie,” my father says, and Norah rolls her eyes.

  Frederick takes his autograph sharpie from his pocket. “Turn around, Jake.” My father presses the sheet of paper against Jake’s back and signs.

  Debbie gives him another megawatt smile. “Norah, we’ll get a contract to you early next week.” She starts to turn away, but her smile shifts. “Why, Norah! You’re pregnant! Did you get married and I missed it?”

  There is a dramatic silence, as if the needle had been yanked from a vinyl record. The only sound is my father sucking in his breath.

  “Jesus, Debbie!” Heads swing around to locate Norah’s defender, and I’m startled to note that it’s Darcy, her serving tray cocked against her hip. She glares at the realtor. “Who says things like that? This isn’t 1957.” With outrage on her face, Darcy hands me two Cokes. “Besides. What an attractive and talented child that’s going to be.” Darcy pats Frederick on the chest and stomps back toward the kitchen.

  Debbie looks slowly from Norah to Frederick and then back again. After turning three subsequent shades of purple, she carries the signed paper out of the restaurant.

  It’s still quiet when Frederick puts his hands on Norah’s shoulders. “God, I’m so sorry. That’s not what you signed up for.”

  She sighs. “Actually, that’s exactly what I signed up for.”

  Her answer makes me flinch. Nineteen years ago, my mother must have heard that much and worse. Mom never had a ring on her finger, or a man at her side.

  Maybe if she’d lived longer, she would have gotte
n over her anger. I sure hope so.

  When Darcy next emerges from the kitchen, it’s to a standing ovation. But she brushes aside the praise with, “It just had to be said.”

  “Okay, she’s growing on me,” Norah whispers to me after Darcy walks away.

  “I hear you,” I reply. Today I feel the same way about Norah. Almost.

  She plays with the straw in her seltzer water. “You know, Frederick, I don’t have enough furniture for this house. It’s going to be awfully bare for a while.”

  He shrugs. “I have furniture.”

  My eyebrows go up, and Norah catches it. “Not so much?” she asks me.

  “What little there is takes the style of Early American Bachelor.”

  “Oh dear,” Norah says.

  Frederick looks from Norah to me. “Tough crowd here for a Saturday,” he says. Then he drains his beer.

  Henry waves his hands in the air. “Let’s go people. Time to saddle up!”

  Unfortunately, Aurora has not appeared yet. I run outside to look down Main Street. There’s a chartered bus waiting there, and its door swings open. “Hola, Rachel,” says the driver.

  “Carlos!” I cry. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Vamos a Massachusetts?”

  “Momentito.” But where is Aurora?

  One by one, everyone comes out of the bar and boards the bus. But I pace the sidewalk, staring at my phone. When it finally it rings, I answer immediately. “Aurora, where are you?”

  “Can I bring a date?”

  “Well…” I’m annoyed by the last-minute question. But if there’s already a hotel room for Jake, they can double up. “Sure. But only if you can both be here in three minutes.” I realize I sound a bit curt. “I can’t wait to meet him,” I add.

  “Right. You’re going to be surprised.”

  “Whatever, Aurora. Get over here! It’s time to go.”

  I run to the back of the bus to tell Frederick. But he and Jake are in the middle of a discussion.

  “The problem with Beane’s analytical model is not that it failed, but that it was too widely adopted,” Jake says. “The effect was diluted by every successive adoptee.”

  My father looks perplexed.

  “What are you talking about?” I have to ask.

  “Baseball. I’m pretty sure,” Frederick answers.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but can Aurora bring her boyfriend? She just called.”

  My father’s face is curious. “A boyfriend?”

  “He can room with Jake, right? Carry on.” I scoot to the front of the bus to wait for Aurora.

  But when she finally climbs onto the bus, I am indeed surprised. Because the person holding her hand is Jessica.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Aurora says. Her smile is nervous.

  I try mightily to control my reaction. “I’m glad you made it.”

  “Dios mio, Rachel! Your face.” Aurora flushes.

  “I’ll give you two a minute,” Jessica says, sliding into the seat behind Carlos.

  He closes the door, and the bus pulls away from the curb. A cheer rises up from the back, and I hear the sound of a popping cork.

  “I said you’d be surprised.” Aurora looks pained.

  “Just give me a few seconds to get used to the idea.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. All set.”

  My roommate still looks worried. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.”

  Unaccountably, I feel myself tearing up. “Seems like something I should have figured out by myself.” What kind of a self-centered jerk misses that?

  “No, sweetie. I worked to keep it from you. But it was exhausting, and it made Jessica mad.” Her lips quiver. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want a roommate who liked girls.”

  I just shake my head. “I don’t care, Aurora. It’s only a problem if you won’t be my roommate anymore.”

  “No! If I come to Claiborne College in a year, we’ll share again. I can’t wait.” Aurora reaches out, hugging me tightly.

  When I walk to the back of the bus a minute later, my father hands me a thimble-sized cup of champagne. Jake is already holding one. “Note the portion size,” he says.

  “Dad!”

  Frederick chuckles. “Why don’t you take a couple of these to Aurora and her boyfriend.”

  I look from Frederick to Jake. “Did either of you see that coming?”

  They exchange a knowing glance.

  “You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Jake says loyally.

  “Does anyone have anything else they want to tell me?” I ask, downing my little swallow of champagne.

  “Here.” Frederick hands me two more cups. “And they’re not for you.”

  “Will I ever live that night down?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “You’ve only done one stupid thing to my ten, okay? I have to hang on tight to this one.”

  I carry the two little cups to my friends. “Cheers!” I say, passing them to Aurora and Jessica. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

  “Thank you,” Jessica says. At least I don’t have to wonder anymore about Jessica’s frosty attitude toward me. Hopefully that will change now.

  “I’ll get Jake. We’ll sit with you guys,” I offer.

  On my way back to the rear of the bus, Norah grabs my hand. When I stop, she tosses her chin over her shoulder toward Jake, and then she gives me a thumbs up. “He’s adorable.”

  I smile at her. “I think so too.”

  Taking Jake’s hand, I ask him to come and sit up front with me.

  “Sure,” he says.

  “Hey, Rachel?” my father asks.

  “Yeah?”

  “You know that melody I made you try out last week?”

  “Yeah.” I let go of Jake’s hand so I can hold on to the hand rail as the bus swings around a curve. “Why?”

  My father’s hands pass idly over the strings of his acoustic guitar. I’m used to that sound now. I hear it all the time. “I want to record it as a duet. Just fooling around, you know? If I find a sound booth somewhere at the college, will you sing it with me?”

  “Sure? Can we talk about this later?”

  He laughs. “Fine. Go.”

  So I do.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The sound check for Frederick’s concert takes forever. But we don’t care. My friends and I pass the time on a slouchy old couch we’ve found backstage.

  “It’s just like home,” Aurora points out. I’m getting used to the sight of my roommate and Jessica together. Even better, Aurora isn’t moping anymore.

  I perch on the arm of the sofa while the three others take the seats. “Maybe our S.L.O. isn’t big enough anymore.”

  Jake reaches up for my hips, sliding me into his lap. “Sure it is. See?”

  “Spoken like a man who doesn’t want to help us carry another one up the stairs.”

  Henry skids to a stop in front of our sofa, an envelope in his hands. “Seats or wings?” he asks. “I’ve got third row, left side.”

  “Seats, please,” I answer. This night is going to be different than my last concert, in every possible way.

  Henry counts out four tickets and hands them to me. “Oh, and here.” He passes me two hotel-key folders.

  I stare at them in my hand.

  “Problem?” Henry asks.

  “Well… Rooming got trickier.” Does it really make sense to put Jake and Jessica in a room together? What is the point of that?

  Henry snorts. “This is one of those times, Rachel, when you just have to ask yourself, ‘What would Freddy do?’ Solve the problem that way. I do it all the time.” He walks away, whistling to himself.

  It’s perfectly good advice. So I solve the problem by giving one room to Aurora and Jessica, and taking a bubble bath with Jake in the other one. And the decision is very popular with everyone concerned.

  Before the show, everyone eats dinner together in the dimly lit hotel bar, passing around plates of seafood and pasta. While Jake holds
my hand under the table, Jessica quizzes the drummer about percussion instruments, and Ernie and his girlfriend tell a long story about locking their keys in her car at the airport.

  “You should have driven the convertible,” I point out.

  Only Frederick is missing, because he never eats before shows. When Ernie’s girlfriend gets up to go get ready for the concert, I move around the table to sit next to Ernie.

  He pulls out a chair for me. “How are you doing, kid? Did you do any skiing since I saw you last?”

  “Nope,” I say. “But I’m going to get the chance next year.” Skiing with Jake is only one of the things I’m looking forward to.

  “So I heard.” Ernie is sipping Diet Coke too, because none of them drink before a show. “I also heard you sang “Stop Motion” again. Freddy says you brought down the house.”

  “He’s biased.” But it’s nice to think of my father bragging about it to Ernie, just like any parent. I lean forward in my chair. “There’s a pack of pictures you took. I found them last month. There aren’t many pictures of her, so…thanks, I guess.”

  Ernie’s expression clouds over. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Didn’t know those were still around.”

  I study his face and find something there that I’d never noticed before. Regret. Something slides into place for me then, and in that moment I understand a little more about what had happened all those years ago.

  Ernie loved her too.

  He leans his chin on his hand, his expression sad. Unless I’m wrong, he’d had a hand in my parents’ breakup all those years ago.

  That stops my heart for a second. But I know Ernie is a good guy. And Frederick is a good guy. And my mother was a good person too. Even so, there was so much broken glass between them, a mess that had never been swept away.

  What a waste.

  “She was so unlucky,” I say, echoing Aurora.

  Ernie nods. “She was, and that meant you were too.” His gaze is fixed on the tabletop.

  I take in the flickering candlelight, and my friends gathered on the other side of the table. “You know what, Ernie? I don’t feel unlucky right now.” Wait—I’ve used a double negative. “I feel lucky, actually.”