14
THE KISS
Later that day on the porch, Edna was feeling calm and very much like a woman. When she’d first heard that boys put their tongues in girls’ mouths, she didn’t believe it. She knew about sex, but somehow the part about tongues was even more disgusting. She was eleven. She thought she was being punk’d by these idiots at a party.
Edna knew everyone was kissing this summer, and if she hadn’t been sent away, she would have been too, but it wouldn’t have been anything like real kissing. Real kissing was way more fun than playing a game where you go into a closet and let boys do things to you. Edna was horrified when she found out that according to the rules of these games it could be any boy, even snot-nosed Jason Sinclair. Edna had watched him pick his nose all year. She refused to play and felt betrayed when Brit ended up in the closet with him. They’d always agreed: Jason was disgusting. In the last few years, Edna’s society had become polluted with these games in which boys pressed their lips against girls’ faces and flicked their tongues in and out. It was a waste of time, and she didn’t see why she should kiss anyone she didn’t even like. Feeling Johnny’s tongue made her understand way more about sex than any of that, even more than the pornos she’d seen. No one even kissed in the pornos. Johnny’s tongue made Edna understand a lot.
She was drunk from the kiss for the rest of the ride back to the cabin that day and scrambling for a way they could spend more time together.
“It’s Grandpa’s birthday coming up. We’re going to make him a party on Saturday. You’re invited,” she threw off, as if she’d meant to mention it earlier. She congratulated herself for coming up with an idea and managing to get it out before he drove away for another week.
“This Saturday? I can’t—”
“Not this Saturday. Next Saturday.”
It wasn’t a good idea to hang around Edna, but he figured they wouldn’t be alone at a party for Zeke.
“OK. I’ll be there.”
Edna would have made the party on any Saturday. She had no idea of the date, either of that day or of the next Saturday, or of her grandfather’s birthday, but she would work it all out if Johnny was coming. She would legally change Grandpa’s birthday if she had to.
The party idea must have escaped from the place where Edna stored annoying junk from Shimmer after the explosion in her brain. Nothing on Shimmer was real, the rules were all notions that Jill made up and passed off as if they were upper-class gospel. This particular notion was that if a woman liked a man, she shouldn’t ask him out directly, but it was all right to host a party and invite him. Shimmer warned that you should be sure you liked the man a lot, since throwing a party required effort, especially, Edna thought, if you took all the advice on Shimmer about how to throw one. There were also probably some ideas about promising a birthday party at someone’s house without asking them, especially if you didn’t know when their birthday was, but Grandpa was unlikely to say he didn’t want a party, or anything, to ruin it. So, a party was scheduled for next Saturday, but at the moment, Edna and Johnny were the only ones who knew about it.
Edna had a high standard of what a party should be. In the real world, birthday parties were a competition between parents and an art form for party planners who created installations worthy of museum exhibition for their four-year-old clients. Edna had no idea how to have a party here. In fact, it might not be possible; Grandma had made it clear that she never entertained. The cabin and the property around it were dismal. Edna had seen the town of Desert Palms, and she was certain there wasn’t a party planner or an adequate party store in it. Lacking Google, she was beginning to feel like a part of her brain had been removed. She had to have some idea of how a party could happen before she approached Grandma and forced it on her, because Grandma was not likely to jump for joy. Edna remembered seeing some old phone books in the pantry.
The next morning she pulled out the phone books from where she’d hidden them under the couch. They were four years old. She’d never looked anything up in a phone book before. There were both yellow and white pages for the area designated “The Southern Desert Basin,” and they were remarkably thin compared to other phone books Edna had seen, which she presumed was because there were no people here. Edna looked up the word “party.” To her surprise, four party stores were listed. The first number she called was no longer in service, and neither was the next. At the third number someone answered in Spanish, and a baby cried in the background. Edna hung up. At the fourth number someone fumbled with the phone. It was an old woman.
“H-hello?”
She sounded like she used her phone about as much as Grandma did. Edna asked her if this was Party Central. The woman laughed.
“N-no dear, not for years.”
“Oh, sorry to bother you.”
“That’s all right. God bless you, dear.”
“Um, thank you,” Edna said, and she added “you too,” hoping that was a polite response to “God bless you” from a stranger on the phone.
There were no party stores in the vicinity. Or at least there weren’t four years ago in the phone book, and Edna sincerely doubted that there were now. This party had seemed like a terrific idea when she came up with it in the Bronco, when she was thinking about things that might lead to more kissing and not at all about logistics.
Edna listed the only people she knew in the area. There was the jolly man she hadn’t been friendly to at the store, the girl she thought was Jenny who didn’t even turn around to say “hi,” and the kind old lady she’d just called by accident. It was not a good list. The jolly man was all she remotely had going for her. Jolly Man certainly liked Grandma. Edna wondered if he might know of any nearby party planners until she realized, if he was milling around Bishop’s, that he could be related to Johnny. Was Jolly Man Johnny’s grandfather? Even if he wasn’t, Johnny might find out that he was the first one invited to the party. It might be obvious that she had no party, that the whole party was being made after she’d already invited him and, by extension, because of their kiss. Sadly, as a source of information, Jolly Man was out.
If she were at Nanny’s condo, Edna would ask around by the pool and everyone there would help her. In fact, the lipsticked old ladies would drop their bridge games to fight over who was doing what to make the party, and there would be too many people to invite within twenty minutes. Here there was no one to reach out to except Grandma. Or Grandpa. She might as well enlist a cactus. There was obviously no way to have this party.
Edna remembered how the pioneering Mrs. Anderson told herself to be strong as she looked at the impossible distance left to travel. She remembered that she herself was once hopelessly lost in the desert at nightfall with a dead coyote, and things still ended well. Edna had to be brave. It was too soon to give up.
“So, Grandma…?”
Grandma looked up from her dinner. Edna tried not to read too much into her hard expression. Maybe it was just how Grandma held her face.
“I was thinking about how we’re going to make Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, and I guess Grandpa’s going to have some, and I was thinking about Grandpa and how he doesn’t usually see very many other people—”
Edna wasn’t presenting this as well as she’d imagined.
“—I don’t know…he must be in there somewhere, you know, because he can hear and see things and he definitely tastes food, and I thought it might be nice for him to have some people around while he was eating cake. I don’t think he has that very often.”
She felt like an idiot and couldn’t stop rambling.
“And I don’t remember ever celebrating his birthday with him ever, so I thought it could be like a birthday party if we want. Even if it wasn’t really his birthday…”
She trailed off. Grandma’s unchanging expression was too distracting, and a party, something Edna had in the real world once or twice a year, suddenly seemed like an outrageous ambition. And Edna had to create more urgency. Grandma might mull this ove
r for a while. She had no way of knowing that Edna wanted an answer about having a party immediately, and to set the date too, for next Saturday. It might as well have been written in stone.
“So I was thinking about a week from—”
“I think that might be a bit much.”
“What?”
“I said I think it might be a bit much.”
Grandma looked down at her food. Edna had not heard the word “no,” but she’d just hit a wall. Luckily, with the slow pace of Grandma’s conversation style, Edna had an extended moment to react. She also had years of experience twisting things with her parents.
“What about it would be too much? It’s just a little cake.”
Grandma didn’t answer.
“Grandma?”
“Edna, I said I think it might be a bit much—”
“But I’ll do everything. And we’re making the cake anyway. Do you mean too much for Grandpa?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Well, I know he’s sick—”
Grandma’s eyes widened but Edna continued.
“—but maybe he could use a little stimulation. Maybe we all could.”
“Are you this disrespectful to your parents?”
“Oh my goodness, I’m much more disrespectful to my parents. What do you think I’m doing here?”
Mary looked hard at Edna. Her granddaughter might have a nice idea with the party, but she was too used to getting her own way. Edward was relying on her help with that, and Mary just couldn’t get around Edna’s disrespect. For Edna’s part, she regretted her last comment. She always went too far for the drama of it or because she thought of something funny to say. But she was usually the only one who thought it was funny, and it did not move things forward. It never did.
“Grandma, I was just kidding about being disrespectful to my parents. And seeming proud of it. It was just a dumb joke.”
“Apology accepted.”
“So I was thinking that next Saturday—”
“Edna, I said I think a party might be a bit much.”
Mary did not want to go on about it. She cleared her plate and went outside to get her husband. She thought it was funny that Edna could sit there for so long with that shocked look on her face. She didn’t see how Edna could get anything out of Edward with it, so she figured it must appeal to some weakness in Jill.
There was a glimmer of light left in the West. Mary still found the desert sunsets beautiful though she’d seen thousands of them. She moved the tray aside and took Zeke’s hand.
“Let’s go, honey bun. Time for bed.”
Every evening she wondered: Would this be the time he finally wouldn’t budge? But he balanced on his legs and made his way into the bedroom without her help.
Zeke hadn’t said a word since “I love you, Mary,” last winter. He’d gone a few months without a word before that. He used to talk in his sleep, but then that stopped, too. She could tell he was going to say something that last time because he grasped her hand extra hard as she pulled him up. He was conscious. Mary hoped he’d do that again, but she tried not to expect it so she wouldn’t always be disappointed. Life was hard to believe these days, but she knew it wasn’t permanent. The doctors said that when people with this kind of head trauma start to decline, they can go rapidly. She’d keep him comfortable for as long as he was breathing. She couldn’t imagine living without her husband, though in the current state, she really wasn’t living with anyone anymore.
It would never occur to Mary to make Zeke a party, but if Edna was going to do it, she wasn’t sure she wanted to deprive him of it. It might be good for Zeke to be with people, more than it would be bad for Edna to get her way another time. He could still sense activity around him. Mary used to be sure she was doing exactly what Zeke would have wanted, but she was less and less certain of it all the time. It could be the last party he’d ever be at. Mary had to think about it.
15
IT’S ON
Edna had blown it with Grandma the night before, but like a hearty pioneer woman, she wasn’t giving up so easily. She apologized profusely the next morning while continuing to make the case that the party was still a good idea for Grandpa, in spite of her terrible disrespect. Edna had a list of reasons memorized, but she didn’t need them. In a surprising turn, Grandma agreed that they could have the party. Next Saturday was fine. Grandma’s calendar was empty. Once again things that had seemed hopeless progressed.
“Is there anyone you’d like to invite?”
Mary furrowed her brow. A party might be more trouble than she thought.
“I’ll think about it.”
Later Edna found a list on the table. Grandma’s writing said: Sheriff Wegman and Mrs., Bill and Winnie Bishop, Johnny Bishop, Ken Bishop, Jill Warner, Jenny, Shep Caulfield, Laura, Raul, Freddy.
Grandma had surprised her: twelve guests was a healthy number. Edna never would have thought she knew that many people. Edna wasn’t thrilled about inviting that sheriff who’d scolded her, but the more people at the party the better, with the exception of the kind-of-pretty Jenny. Edna briefly considered whether there was any way to not invite her. She was clearly on the list. Edna could be Machiavellian (she knew the word because her father accused her of being that way), but she decided she shouldn’t do anything questionable. She would behave perfectly, at least as far as anything to do with Johnny was concerned.
Invitations were a huge consideration since they set the tone of any event, according to Shimmer, which of course recommended the best places to get them made. It was too late to get paper invitations for the party, and Edna doubted Desert Palms had a paper store anyway. Paper invitations were still the most effective, in spite of everyone’s access to everything on their phone. It was statistically proven that people were more likely to come to your party if they received a paper invitation to it, and they dressed better, too. Shimmer had graphs illustrating the results of the studies.
From her grandparents’ cabin, Edna had no way to send a cyber-invite either. Jill would be appalled. The last resort for inviting people to a party was by phone, because a phone call was never going to happen at a convenient time, according to Shimmer’s Invitequette. (“Who wants to navigate a calendar while getting groceries into the car?”) In fact, directly phoning people was almost considered an invasion of privacy, but Edna had no choice. She was inviting twelve people to a party, people she’d never spoken to before, all by phone. She usually liked doing things that would bother her mother, but this was not something she was looking forward to.
She wrote out a little speech. She noted that her prison sentence in the desert would be half over by the day of the party. The second half of Edna’s summers always flew by as soon as she noticed their mid-point. She didn’t mind being at Grandma and Grandpa’s cabin anymore. Knowing she was insane didn’t seem to influence her feelings; Johnny had kissed her, and if nothing else happened, it was worth the entire summer. Somehow it was a defining moment, better than Maui and Paris and horseback riding and ice cream eating combined. One kiss beat all of that. Edna had always heard that people in love are crazy, and now she knew it for a fact.
There were so many things to consider before making her calls. The party had to start in the early evening because it was too hot outside during the day, and there was neither the space nor the air-conditioning inside the cabin for fifteen people to be comfortable. She wished she could invite everyone at night, when it would be even cooler, but there had to be some daylight. Grandma and Grandpa didn’t have outdoor lighting. According to Shimmer, people can chat in darkness, but not for too long because it becomes a strain. Edna would light candles when it got dark, and the party would be ending soon anyway.
She practiced her speech and got up her nerve. Sheriff Wegman already hated her, so she called him first for practice. Edna could tell his voice mail was an old answering machine by the clicking sounds it made and the static beep at the end of his gruff recording.
“We’re out, lea
ve a message.”
“Hello, Sheriff Wegman. This is Edna Miller, Mary Miller’s granddaughter. I don’t know if you remember me.”
This felt horrible.
“We’re having a celebration for my grandfather, Zeke Miller, on Saturday, July 31 at six p.m. at 71200 Cottontail Trail in Dream Valley, and you and Mrs. Wegman are cordially invited. Grandma is making her award-winning Pineapple Upside-Down Cake. We hope you can make it.”
Edna fell short of saying that it was actually Grandpa’s birthday. She still didn’t know when it was. She kept forgetting to ask. She didn’t really want to know because it probably wasn’t soon, and she didn’t need any more reasons to feel stupid while making these phone calls.
“Bishop’s,” a voice answered. It was Jolly Man, who was probably Johnny’s grandfather.
“Hello, I’m calling for Bill or Ken Bishop?”
“This is Bill.”
Edna tried not to sound like she was reading off a page when she invited him to the party, but she still felt the strain in her voice.
“Well, we’d be delighted, Edna.”
“Great. Is Johnny there?”
“No, he’s not. Shall I give him the same message?”
“He already knows about it, but I hadn’t told him the time yet.”
“I certainly will tell him.”
She was being so mature, not needing to track him down. Pretending to be a happy, uncomplicated girl could be fun sometimes.