On Little Wings (32 page)

“Jennifer, we’re going to get some more fireworks. Come with us!” She motioned to the car as Will pulled over to the curb across from me.

“Have to go to the next county. Can’t buy ‘em here,” he said. Michael rolled down the back window manually – the old car didn’t have automatics – and waved at me.

“I’m sort of helping here,” I said lamely, as I stood empty- handed in the middle of the street. It was pretty obvious I wasn’t contributing anything.

“No, it’s fine. It’s already up. Come with us.” Claude insisted. I looked down the street where Sarah was still calling directions.

“Pull the top one more – it’s still a little crooked,” she instructed.

“I didn’t ask Sarah,” I stalled. They were fun to be with, but I preferred to stay closer to home, closer to Nathan.

Claude checked the street for traffic and hopped out of her door, jogging to Sarah. A minute later she yelled, “It’s fine. Sarah says okay.”

“Excellent,” Will said. “You can talk to Claude about the smart stuff,” he winked at me. Claude’s shouting grabbed Nathan’s attention and he looked over the side of the building, first seeing her sprinting down the street, and then my upturned face. As soon as he took in the old, khaki-colored car his eyes narrowed.

“Come on,” Claude commanded and pulled on my ponytail, leading me to the Oldsmobile. The door creaked as Michael shoved it open and I dropped in beside him, out of excuses. I dared a last look up at the roof and glimpsed Nathan’s angry expression.

Just as we neared the turn Haven Lane I said, “I need to stop at the house.” Will glanced in the rearview mirror and made a smooth turn onto the road. I made my excuse nervously, hoping it wasn’t too transparent. “I forgot, but I promised to call home this morning. You’ll have to go without me.”

There was polite arguing as they told me to call in the car or call later, but when Will parked in Sarah’s driveway I apologized again and told them I couldn’t call later. From the porch, Charlie stirred and let out a volley of excited barks before running to me.

Claudia’s lip pushed out in a small pout, but Will smiled at her as I stepped out. “That’s okay. Jennifer’ll be more surprised if she doesn’t know what we’re shooting off.”

“Yes, but then I have to hang out with you
boys
,” Claudia complained as I pushed Charlie’s head down so he couldn’t jump on me anymore.

“Oh, the horror,” Michael teased her as he pretended to shake with fear. “See you later, Jennifer. You’re going to watch them with us, right?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. I’m watching from somewhere else,” I didn’t think Claudia knew Nathan was taking me and since they were not in each other’s good graces at the moment I didn’t want to bring up his name. “But I’m sure I’ll see you around this weekend. Bye guys.” I made a hasty retreat, glad that Sarah had given me my own key. Charlie followed me into the house and I sat on the sofa, relieved by my escape. Not that I didn’t like Claudia’s friends. I liked them much better than Nathan did. I just didn’t feel like the jokes today, didn’t want to be three towns away if Nathan decided to talk. I could tell he was thawing again, slowly melting out of his self-carved ice prison.

I picked up Sarah’s Billy Collins book and searched for the poem she had quoted the night before. Several poems later I gave Chester’s back a stroke and lumbered into the kitchen looking for a snack. I was cutting a slice of pumpkin bread from a small loaf when the sound of an engine rumbled through the open window along with the crunch of gravel of the driveway. I knew it was Nathan and Sarah when I heard her voice over the slam of heavy doors.

“Do you want to come in? You look tired.” She said to Nathan. I paused by the kitchen door, well out of sight.

“I’m not tired,” he answered grumpily.

“Nathan, is it Will
again
?” Sarah sounded exasperated. “They are just buying some fireworks. They’ll be back soon.”

“He’s always with her, Sarah. Always! I know you don’t think it’s serious, but it is. And I know that Claude thinks he’s a nice guy. Even Jennifer believes that!” His voice rose, spitting out my name in disgust.

“He
is
a nice guy, Nathan. You really don’t know him,” Sarah’s weary voice came from the porch where they stopped to talk.

“Even you! He’s got a foul mouth. He’s got one thing on his mind.”

“He’s a teenager. And he’s not like he was when you went to school with him. He’s growing up. He’s changing. People change.”

I couldn’t see Nathan’s face but there was a long silence. For a second I worried they would walk in to get a drink and catch me eavesdropping in the kitchen. I edged closer to the back door, ensuring a quick getaway.

“Is that really the problem, Nathan? You think Claudia and Jennifer are going to be seduced at a firework stand? I know you’re protective, but …”

Nathan’s words burst out of him, cutting her off. “Women are tar pits!”

A pause before Sarah asked in a puzzled, almost clinical voice, “Are you quoting?”

Nathan swore and I could imagine the angry set of his face, “No, Sarah. I’m not
quoting
,” he said it like another swear word. “But you can write it down if you want, because truer words were never spoken!”

“How are we like tar pits, Nathan?” She asked softly, psychiatrist to patient.

“I can’t get free of any of you! My mother can’t take care of herself, let alone four kids. My sisters need me to be their dad. Even you!” he hissed. I imagined Sarah leaning back under the assault of his words. I know I would have.

“What about me?” Her professional voice quivered.

“I worry about you! You’re too smart and good to be alone. So I hear your niece is coming and she loves you and I think I will at least be free of one worry…”

“But what?” Sarah asked, her voice tight with anxiety.

“But I take one step too close and she’s just another tar pit! Another reason to stay where I can’t stay. Another reason to go where I can’t go. Just a tar pit!” he roared.

I slunk against the wall, down to the floor, my heart jackhammering inside my chest, making my pulse throb in my hands and thunder in my ears. A tar pit. A reason. He was stuck by me. I closed my eyes and filled my lungs with a scratchy breath before squeezing my hands into fists.

“You like her,” Sarah said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear.

Nathan didn’t say anything but I would have given anything to see his face, read his answer. I heard Sarah’s murmurs but I could not distinguish any words because the dishwasher burst to life, beginning its timed cycle. Scared by the sudden noise, and terrified of being discovered, I jerked out of my stupor and opened the back door, escaping noiselessly. All the way to the beach I threw paranoid glances over my shoulder, praying they stayed on the porch where they couldn’t see me.

Even the ocean could not still my frantic pulse. My heart beat in jagged contrast to the sea’s slow hiss. A tar pit. Is it strange that I found those words the most beautiful I’d ever heard? Harsh, and wild, and beautiful. Like the cove itself. I don’t know how long it took before my body settled into more natural rhythms and my thoughts started to organize. As soon as I felt calm enough I considered walking in the back door and announcing myself, but I wasn’t sure I could face him yet. If I caught him that emotional, he’d likely avoid me for a week. And since I only had a few days left I couldn’t risk it. I decided to stay put, let him go home before telling Sarah I’d decided to stay and spend some time on the beach. I was trying to decide how much time was enough when Nathan appeared suddenly over the ridge. I stood and we both froze, carved statues dropped on a deserted beach.

“What are …” he started but I jumped to the offensive.

“Aren’t you working today?”

“No. Not much. Did you guys decide not to go?” He came closer until we stood ten feet apart, assessing each other. Did he see a tar pit?

“They went. I just didn’t feel like it. I decided to come read on the beach.”

Nathan’s eyes swept the ground. “No book.”

My face blanched. “I left it at home so I’ve just been thinking.”

“You were here all the time?” he asked, a worried note in his voice.

“All what time?” I asked innocently. It was equally satisfying and disturbing to find out what a good liar I was.

“Since they left.”

“Yeah, mostly since they left. I hung out at Shelter Cove for a while. Are you just walking? If you wanted to be alone I can go …”

He continued to walk toward me, “No, I’m just … hanging out.”

“Oh, okay.” I sat back down, interested to see how much space he’d leave between us. He surprised me by lowering himself only a foot away from me.

“Still leaving after tomorrow?” he asked.

“I think so,” I told him. I’d been asking myself that same question. Could I bear to leave right when I knew he felt something for me? Could I bear the angry look in his eyes every time he realized it? “I found a cheap flight Tuesday morning.”

He nodded. “They’ll be glad to see you.”

“I guess.” What mattered more was whether he’d be sad to see me go. “Nathan, about leaving - can I ask you something. Something personal?”

He turned guarded eyes to me. “Sure.” He made it a slow, two-syllable word.

“Why haven’t you ever left? Really?”

“It’s not because I’m scared,” he answered.

I wasn’t prepared for those words. I looked at his sullen face, trying to see past the bitter frown. “I’d never think you were. I just wondered why you don’t go to college, especially since you’re so smart.”

He grimaced at my compliment like it hurt him. “I’m nearly done with my bachelors. I’m not even eighteen until next month. Isn’t that good enough for you?”

“It has nothing to do with me. It would be good enough for anybody. It’s really impressive. But … now what?”

“What do you mean?” He entwined his fingers tightly, the tips of his knuckles whitening under the pressure.

“Well, you have a bachelors in what?”

“Liberal arts.”

“So now what? What are you going to do with it?”

“You like the million dollar questions, don’t you?”

“Why waste time on the cheap ones?”

He looked up at the sky like he thought someone would have written his lines for him overhead. “I don’t know. I can’t leave.”

“Bull,” I said as softly as I dared, without losing the power of the word.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t leave the same way my mother can’t come back. You’re making up your own rules.”

His eyes sparked with indignation. “You have no idea what it’s like looking out for my family. Being the only man. Four girls! Hormones flying. Heartaches. Drama. They would spontaneously combust if I wasn’t here.”

“You’re right,” I said, putting my hands up in surrender, “I don’t know what it’s like. I’m sure it’s really hard. But don’t you think you might give them some more credit? Somehow I think they’d muddle through.” An offended shadow crossed his face and I looked down, ashamed that he thought I was belittling his sacrifices. His love.

“Maybe I want more for them than that – just muddling through,” he replied, clamping down on his words to keep them from sounding too harsh.

“But everyone has to muddle a little bit. It’s how we figure things out. I just don’t think you need to do everything for them.”

“What do I do for them?” It came out so spiteful that the blood rushed to my chest, making me feel very hot under the afternoon sun.

“Everything!” I fought back. “You tell them what to do, when to do it, how to do it, when not to do it! Especially Claudia. And she adores you. Wants to be like you. You could give her the benefit of the doubt sometimes.”

“I don’t want to
control
them! I didn’t want the job in the first place. Do you think I wouldn’t give anything to have a dad take over? To have someone else earn the extra money and scare off the boyfriends and talk Judith out of her depression when she wails that she’ll die alone? I didn’t want it. I never wanted it!”

It was so difficult to restrain my hands from reaching out to him. I wanted him to know that he didn’t need to take care of me, didn’t need to babysit me, didn’t need to worry about me. I just wanted him to let me sit next to him. To stay still and take my hand when he wanted to take my hand. To resist the urge to run away when his heart drew up close to mine.

I marshaled my strength and gave him the honest answer, the one that broke my heart to give. “But you’ve done it. All that and more. Now it’s time to get out of the way, Nathan! Judith isn’t as bad as I thought at first. She’s got her weaknesses. She hasn’t got love figured out. Who does? But she can take care of the girls. Maybe not like you would, but still. And Sarah’s here. She can help. Little’s here. She can … well, Little’s here.” We both lowered our defenses long enough to give one wry laugh.

“And if I go, if I just up and leave, what happens when Judith comes home pregnant again? Or Claude?”

I recoiled from the ugliness of his words. “Is that what you think about your sister? You think that the boys you fought were
right
? Is that why it made you so mad? You thought it was
true
?”

A mixture of shame and defiance burned through his cheeks. “I think it’s easy for people to make mistakes. The heart is deceitful.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t love Will, my heart isn’t deceived, and I know he’s not like that. I’ve spent enough time with him to know …”

“You don’t think he’d jump at the first chance …” he left it unsaid. Thankfully.

“No. I think he loves her. Sure he’s attracted to her. He’s not a monk. But he’s not … he’s not what you think he is.”

Nathan huffed in dissent.

“There isn’t always an ulterior motive. It’s okay to love people, Nathan,” I uttered, looking at the gray sand.

“Sometimes,” he countered. “When everything’s in place. When it’s the right time.”

My head snapped up and I found his lips, bisected with the thin white scar and then his nose, his dark, churning eyes. I felt like Little. Alone. Looking at Newell. “Sometimes you wait for the right time and you run out of time altogether.”

He studied my face, seeing, I’m certain, a new intensity there. We weren’t talking about Claudia anymore. “So, you’re of the ‘carpe diem’ variety? Just dive in headfirst and if you break your face it’s ‘better to have loved and lost than never loved at all’?”