His Eyes (10 page)

“Fine,” he said, sounding confused. “Remember, you were with me about an hour ago?”

Oh no. He thought I was a stalker! I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and tried to laugh. “Yeah, I know. See, my parents know I’m, uh, helping you....”

“Okay?” he prompted.

I sighed and said in a rush, “So, they want to have you over for dinner tomorrow.”

There was complete and utter silence on the other end of the phone; I couldn’t even hear him breathing. Finally, he said, “And if I remember right, your mom’s crazy?”

I mumbled, “Well, kind of....”

He laughed. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll come. It’s not like I have anything else going on. Mom’ll be thrilled with my ‘progress.’”

“Thanks, Tristan. My address is on the résumé I e-mailed her. Could you come around six?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Great! Bye!” I turned off the phone and tried to not think about how Tristan was perfect boyfriend material because it didn’t matter. Right?

* * *

For me, the next day passed terribly slowly. My dad kept telling me that I needed to be studying, but I hardly saw the point because all I really had to do was show up and I’d be able to graduate. And, of course, there was the whole issue of Charlie. Things were still tense between him and my parents and, whenever he walked into a room with me, we ended up making small talk. What could I say when I hadn’t seen him since the age when I thought Power Rangers were cool?

I sat at the kitchen table, curled over my Biology book. I stared blankly at a picture of a dissected flower while my mind drifted on thoughts of exploring fingertips. I jumped in surprise when Charlie pulled out a chair and sat down. He smiled at my reaction and asked, “Hard at work?”

“Oh yeah.” I straightened up and pushed my hair from my face.

“Looking forward to seeing your boyfriend?”

“No,” I lied. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I thought we could try a face-to-face for once, instead of the letters.”

I glared. “The letters don’t work so well when you leave out major details.”

“About that,” Charlie scratched the back of his neck, “did I say that I’m sorry?”

“No.”

“Well, I am,” he said. “You didn’t miss much; we just went to a Justice of the Peace.”

I said with a frown, “If I’m going to forgive you, it’s not going to be because of excuses.”

Charlie shook his head. “Wow, sis, when did you get so old?”

“Me?” Despite myself, I laughed. “Mr. Polo Shirt, you should be talking!”

He plucked at his shirt. “Hey, I’m going to be a father!”

“That poor kid.” I folded my arms. “So, what’s she like?”

“Who?”

“Your wife!”

Charlie shrugged. “She...I don’t know. She’s great. She makes the best blueberry pancakes you’ve ever eaten “

“And she got you to come here, which is amazing,” I added.

“Once Sandy has the baby, she wants to come meet you.”

“Definitely.” I shook my head at him. “You, a dad—I still can’t believe it.”

“Well,” Charlie pushed back from the table, “I should probably let you get back to work.”

“I guess. Hey...you
are
going to be nice tonight, right?”

My brother’s face glowed with feigned innocence. “Of course, Aim. Don’t worry.”

I tried to smile, but by the time dinner rolled around, I was nervous. My mom had been rushing back and forth between the kitchen and her garden for the past hour. She said that she was creating something “special,” which I wasn’t so sure was a good thing. One of her last “special” meals had required a visit from the Grayfield fire department. I kept my fingers crossed while I pretended to look over my notes.

At ten to six, the doorbell rang. My stomach gave a lurch when I answered the door. Tristan was standing on the front stoop and Mrs. Edmund waved as she walked back to her BMW. I took Tristan’s arm to lead him inside and managed to get in a “Thanks for coming,” before Charlie assaulted us. My brother blocked our path and drew himself up to his full height, not that Tristan could actually tell the difference.

“So, you’re Tristan?”

“Yes,” Tristan shifted his weight uncertainly, “Mr. Turner?”

“Actually, this is my older brother, Charlie,” I explained.

“The one who ran away?” Tristan asked, inclining his head toward mine.

“Jeez, he makes it sound like I was a little kid,” said Charlie, while waving a hand in front of Tristan’s face. I reached out and kicked him. “Ouch!”

Tristan frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I replied, while glaring at my brother. “I think dinner’s ready.”

We walked into the house and sat at the kitchen table. Mom appeared with the first plates of food. My eyes widened when I looked down at my plate. It was an organic meal, all right; she had prepared flowers. More specifically, she had made a pasta salad with a dandelion vinaigrette and petals of carnations, cornflowers, and roses.

Dad appeared with the other plates. “Hello, Tristan.”

“Hi.” Tristan nodded in his direction.

Charlie looked down at his plate. With a sarcastic tone, he said, “You’ve outdone yourself, Mother.”

“Really?” My mom looked hopeful as she took her seat.

Dad patted her hand. “Yes, it looks beautiful.”

I was sitting next to Tristan and he bent close, whispering, “Uh, what is it?”

“Well...” My brother, who had overheard, was looking amused. “It’s a pasta salad.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows and mouthed at me, “With flowers!”

“Shut up!” I mouthed back. “Don’t offend Mom.”

There was a clatter of silverware when everyone began eating. I watched as Tristan slid his hand along the table, until he found his fork. The first bite of salad that he scooped onto his fork held a large, bright red rose petal. I held my breath while the fork made its way to his mouth. Just when he was about to take the bite, Charlie spoke up. “Tristan, how long have you known my sister?”

The fork lowered back toward his plate, still holding the petal. I glowered at my brother, while Tristan replied, “Uh, a little over a week.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “That’s all? You seemed pretty close, when I saw you.”

Tristan frowned. “When you saw us?”

“Charlie saw you two downtown,” Dad clarified.

“Oh.” Tristan again lifted his fork toward his mouth. “Yeah, we’ve spent a lot of time together.”

“Amy said you graduated from Clarence. That must have been a nice place to go to school,” said Mom.

The fork paused.

“Actually, I haven’t gone there for a few months.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “And you still graduated? It’s interesting what money can do....”

I began, “Charlie—”

Tristan stiffened. “I’m sorry. Did you
graduate
?”

Charlie slammed his fork into his plate. “Do you have a problem with a GED?”

“That’s enough!” Dad said loudly.

Tristan took the bite off of his fork. He began to chew and, all at once, stopped. His hand slid discreetly toward his mouth. I leaned close to his ear and whispered, “It’s a flower petal.”

He nodded as he removed the petal with his napkin.

“Do you have plans, Tristan? College?” asked my dad.

Tristan’s face grew dark. “I don’t think so, now.”

“If you learned Braille, I’m sure you could go,” I suggested eagerly.

He shrugged. “I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

Mom said, “Did you know that Amy graduates Tuesday night?”

“You’re just glad someone is going through that little ceremony,” snapped Charlie.

She gave him a hurt look. “I didn’t mean that.”

The table abruptly fell into a cold silence that remained throughout the rest of the dinner. I wished desperately that I could melt into the floor and take Tristan with me. As soon as we were finished eating, I rushed Tristan out onto the stoop, to get away from my family. We sat on the step and, after a moment of quiet, I said, “I’m sorry about that.”

“So, we both get to apologize for our families.” He gave a short laugh. “What kind of flower did I almost eat in there?”

I smiled and pushed playfully against his shoulder. “A rose.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “Chris will get a kick out of that.”

“At least something good came out of this.” I watched as headlights approached from down my street. I hesitated and then gave Tristan a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, again.”

His smile made my cheeks grow warm. “My pleasure.”

Chapter 9

On Tuesday, I stood in the middle of the kitchen, impatiently tapping my graduation cap against my leg. Because the gym at my high school was hot every year during the ceremony, I wore a cotton tunic and jean capris under my blue robe. My dad, dressed as nicely as if he were going to work, caught my eye and shrugged. We were both waiting for my mom and brother to surface. Charlie was still packing for his flight, which was scheduled to leave tonight, and Mom thought she had enough time to embroider a new rose into her favorite pair of jeans—in honor of me.

“I know ‘T’ isn’t the first letter in the alphabet, but I’d still like to leave soon!” I called.

“I’m coming,” Charlie laughed and climbed up the basement stairs, his duffle bag bulging. Lifting the bag, he said, “I can’t believe you guys saved my stuff. Even all my old cassette tapes were there.” He eyed me. “Well,
almost
all of them.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, so maybe I borrowed a few of them over the last
decade
.”

Charlie made a face at me. “You like making me feel old, don’t you?”

“Well....”

Dad shook his head at us. “Charlie, if you don’t mind heading over now with Amy, your mother and I can meet you at school with the rental car.”

“No problem.” Charlie walked over to the front door and held it open for me. “You sure you’re old enough to drive? I remember you having a little problem controlling a bumper car.”

I laughed. “Now I’m tall enough to see over the wheel, so that helps.”

Charlie followed me outside and climbed into the passenger side of my Camry. Wedging his duffle bag by his feet, he quickly buckled his seatbelt while I backed out of the driveway. He took a deep breath and tried to pretend that he didn’t actually think it was scary having his little sister driving. I could see his eyes darting to check my car’s mirrors. Clearing his throat as I hit the gas, he said, “Dad told me—I mean, I think I may have gotten a little out of line at dinner last night. I am proud that you’re graduating, Amy.”

“Yeah?” I offered him a smile. “Thanks.”

“I guess I just expected them to be mad that I was gone for so long; I almost
wanted
them to be mad. Seeing how well you guys get along...I guess it made me jealous.” He shrugged. “You remember all of the fights I used to get into with them?”

“Of course I remember! You’d shake the house, yelling so loud.” Slowing down for a stop sign, I turned and looked at him. “You know, just because Mom and Dad weren’t mad, doesn’t mean they forgot about you. I wrote to you about the dinners and, did Mom show you the mural?”

Charlie nodded. “She pointed it out to me this morning and we had a good talk. But, I still want you to know that I think it’s great what you’re doing: going to Evanston, breaking out of the caste system.”

I sighed and continued driving. “Well, I’m not sure I’m going to Evanston. Dad’s right when he said it’d cost a lot. What I earn this summer will barely pay for my room, let alone the rest of the tuition. And there aren’t many scholarships for average, middleclass girls.”

“You’re not average,” Charlie scoffed.

“Uh, thanks?”

“I mean, didn’t you say you want to write for the
Rolling Stone
? And you’re helping a blind kid! Who does that?” he asked, his tone daring me to prove him wrong.

“Okay. I’m not normal.” I held up one of my hands, surrendering. “So, when you find the scholarship for abnormal, aspiring journalists, make sure you nominate me.”

Charlie grinned. “You got it, sis.”

* * *

Much like I’d expected, my graduation ceremony was about as exciting as listening to NPR in a sauna. While sweat pooled in the nape of my neck, I hunted for my family through a jungle of people pushing to escape the sweltering gym. I was so happy to find them that I thought my face was going to split from smiling. Dad beamed while Mom snapped pictures with an ancient instamatic camera.

“Now, Amy, you and Charlie need to stand together,” she instructed.

I sighed, eager to finish, and posed stiffly next to Charlie. He noticed my sour expression and, right before the flash went off, wrapped me in a bear hug. I screamed in surprise, having not been attacked by him for so long. Laughing, he said, “Congrats, Aim.”

“Thanks.” I peered up into his face. “I’m glad you came. You better do it again sometime.”

“I will.” He looked over at our parents. “Once Sandy has the baby, I promise. Ten years was too long...I shouldn’t have done that to you guys.”

“We never stopped hoping you’d come back,” Dad said and Mom nodded her head, her eyes bright.

Charlie held Dad’s gaze for a long moment. Then he coughed and checked his watch. “We should probably get going. My flight leaves in two hours.” He hit my shoulder gently. “I’ll be writing to you soon. You keep up those letters.”

“You keep up that adulthood.”

He frowned. “No need for the A-word! I’m still young!”

“See you later, honey!” called Mom, as they headed outside.

“Bye!”

I sighed while I watched them go and then I slipped off my cap. I scanned the room for Ahna, which was hard considering that the room was packed with the family and friends of my three hundred classmates, many of whom were sweating and scowling their way through rounds of photographs. Luckily, Ahna’s red hair gave her away and I spotted her weaving through the crowd. I positioned myself near the exit doors and waited for her.

Ahna emerged, pulling an overwhelmed Lyle by the hand. Her face broke into a smile when she saw me and she gave me a big hug. She stepped back, yelling over the din, “Are you ready to go?”

I nodded. “Yeah!”