Love, Lucy

by April Lindner

  Allen’s balcony door was ajar, and Lucy couldn’t resist slipping outside to breathe the night air and look out over the streets of Northern Liberties. Before long, she heard the door slide open and shut behind her and felt Shane’s arms wrap around her waist. “Having fun?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “Your friends are fascinating. I just needed some air.”

  Shane’s arms tightened. A moment later he was kissing her neck. “See over there?” He pointed to an apartment building a few blocks away, its walls almost entirely glass.

  Lucy nodded.

  “That’s my building,” he said.

  “Wow,” she said, not knowing what kind of reaction he wanted.

  “You can see my apartment from here. Fifth floor up, fourth window over.”

  Lucy looked for and found the darkened window. “Nobody’s home,” she said.

  “We could change that.” His hands kneaded her shoulders, sending tingles through her body.

  It took Lucy a moment to grasp what he was suggesting. “Um,” she said. “That sounds… nice. But I wasn’t expecting… I mean, it feels a little… soon.” She wondered at herself as the words left her lips. After all, she’d slept with Jesse after knowing him for less than a week. And Shane was so gorgeous, so sophisticated, so perfect, really, in just about every way. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I do. But…”

  Shane laughed. “It’s okay.” He spun her around to face him. “You’re right. It is soon. It’s just that I really, really like you.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “Anyway, we don’t need to hurry. It’s good that you want to wait.”

  “It is?” Lucy asked, not believing her ears. When he kissed her again, his hands slipped down to her hips, pulling her a little closer.

  He smiled with those perfect white teeth of his. “It’s smart, actually.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Sensible.”

  Not long after that, they left the loft, and Shane drove Lucy back to campus. From the passenger’s seat she looked over at him—his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, the suede jacket and expensive jeans that set him apart from the other guys she’d met, who sported hoodies and baseball caps. Had he really called her sensible? Nobody had called her that in her life. Considering she’d been listening to her heart and not her head, it was hard not to feel like a fraud. Still, he’d said he was fine with waiting, and waiting was what she wanted. He’s the perfect guy, Lucy told herself for about the thirtieth time that night.

  Shane broke into her reverie. “So how’s the play going?”

  “It’s great,” she said. “A little scary sometimes.”

  “Scary? What would a pro like you be scared about?”

  Lucy considered telling him about her terror of freezing up onstage, then decided to let him go on thinking of her as talented and capable. “Oh, you know what they say. A little stage fright is normal.” She tried to sound breezy.

  Shane took his eyes off the road to look at her. “Have I told you how proud I am to have a star as a girlfriend?”

  Girlfriend? A warm feeling spread through Lucy’s chest. “I think you need to see me onstage before you decide I’m a star,” she said.

  “I already know,” he said. “I told you, I have an instinct. Take Allen, for example. I knew he was a genius before I even saw his work. I could tell by how he talked about painting, by how obsessed with it he was. And then I wangled an invitation to his first gallery opening, and it turned out I was right.”

  Would you like me if I turned out not to be a star? Lucy wondered. She almost said the words out loud, but stopped herself. “Thank you for believing in me.”

  “It’s not something you have to thank me for,” he said. “I believe what I believe.” They drove on in silence a bit longer. Before they reached the exit to campus, Shane spoke again. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” Lucy said.

  “Are we…” He paused, as though seeking the right word. “Exclusive? You’re not seeing anybody else, are you?”

  “Of course not!” Lucy exclaimed, the words coming out in a rush. “No.” Then, after a moment’s thought, she asked, “Are you?”

  “I’m not,” he said. “I mean, I was seeing someone over the summer. Not anymore, though.”

  “Me, too,” Lucy said. “I saw someone over the summer. But that’s over.” It can’t get any more over than when a guy changes his address and doesn’t send you the new one, she thought.

  Before long, they had reached campus. Shane parked his car and jumped out to open her door. Then he walked her to the entrance of her dorm. In the lamplight, he kissed her for a long time. “I’m glad we’re not seeing other people,” he said.

  “Me, too,” Lucy whispered back.

  They kissed some more, Shane’s hands wandering down to her waist, then up inside her jacket. Before she could object, or point out that they were in public, in plain view of anyone who might pass by, his hands traveled up her body, grazing the surface of her dress in a way that made Lucy’s breath catch.

  “But I thought…” she whispered, “we were going to wait.…”

  “We are,” Shane said, even as his fingers explored her rib cage. “It’s just…” He pulled his hands from her jacket. “It’s not easy.”

  Just then, a trio of guys in Forsythe colors—scarlet and gold—whipped past, making whooping noises. “We won, dude!” one of them shouted in Shane’s direction. “Victory!” he yelled, and the other two hollered in agreement.

  “I’d better go in,” Lucy said.

  Shane grabbed her hand. “I was thinking maybe we could go away together one of these weekends. My cousin has an apartment in New York, and he’s practically never there. He lets me use it when I go into the city. We could stay at his place, maybe see a play?”

  Lucy hesitated. A weekend in New York sounded thrilling, but it would also mean staying alone together. Overnight. Hadn’t he just said he was willing to wait?

  “I know it’s soon.” He caught her other hand, tugging her close again, now that the whooping Forsythe fans were out of sight. “But maybe in a few weeks we’ll know each other better, and it will feel right.”

  Lucy looked down at his hand, so large hers nestled tidily within it. The kind of hand I can trust, she thought.

  “I’ll take you to my favorite place in Little Italy. They make the best cappuccinos in New York. And their cannoli?” He grinned down at her. “Fugheddaboutit.”

  He’s trying so hard to please me, she thought. And maybe in a few weeks I really will be ready to be with him.

  In the meantime, though, he was waiting for her answer, and she needed to say something.

  “Yes.” Lucy turned on her brightest smile. “That sounds amazing.”

  XVIII

  On Monday morning, Lucy’s phone rang while she was at breakfast. It was her mother. “I’d better take this,” Lucy told Britt, who was eating scrambled eggs and cramming for that morning’s history quiz.

  “Lu, honey? I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

  “Oh.” Lucy set aside her yogurt. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. It’s just, I’ve been busy.”

  “I know, I know. I remember what college was like. But your dad and I haven’t heard from you in over a week, and I couldn’t help worrying.”

  When wasn’t Lucy’s mother worried about her? “I’m fine,” Lucy said. “Everything’s great.” She shot Britt an apologetic smile and got up from the table so her friend could study in peace. Finding a quiet spot in the lobby, Lucy paced back and forth, phone to her ear. She still hadn’t told her parents about her part in Rent. She knew her mother would be happy for her, but she wasn’t quite sure how her father would react. That uncertainty had kept her from making her weekly call home.

  Lucy’s mother’s sixth sense had apparently been triggered. “I’ve just had a funny feeling about you lately,” she said.

  “What kind of funny?”

  “You’re making friends, aren’t you?
You’re not lonely?”

  Lucy laughed. “Yes, I’m making friends.” And though she hadn’t been planning to mention Shane just yet, she couldn’t help trotting him out as Exhibit A. “In fact, I’ve been seeing this really great guy.”

  After that, the questions flew thick and fast. Lucy had to reveal Shane’s name, his hometown, his major, his hobbies. Though she wasn’t at all surprised by the third degree, what came next took her aback. “I’ve got a great idea. Why don’t Dad and I come to campus this weekend and take the two of you out to dinner?”

  “Um,” Lucy said.

  “We could go someplace really nice. I’m sure you could use a break from dining hall food.”

  “Uh,” Lucy said. “That’s nice, Mom, but…”

  “What about Buddakan? We haven’t gone there in ages. I know how much you love their king crab tempura. But maybe Shane doesn’t like Asian food? We could go someplace else. Italian’s always safe. Who doesn’t like Italian?”

  “Mom,” Lucy broke in, her voice higher-pitched than she’d intended. “Please. Just chill a second.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Shane and I have only just started going out,” Lucy said. “I’m not ready to bring him home to meet the parents.”

  “It wouldn’t be like that,” her mother said. “We don’t want to interrogate the guy. It would just be a fun little dinner.”

  “No,” Lucy said with as much firmness as she could muster. “It would not be fun.”

  “Okay, okay. I get the message.” But a note of hurt had crept into Lucy’s mother’s voice.

  “It’s a very nice idea,” Lucy said quickly. “But we’re not ready for that yet. Maybe someday,” she said.

  “You mean after you’ve announced your engagement?”

  “Mom!” Lucy all but shrieked. “Nobody’s getting engaged here.”

  “I was kidding,” Lucy’s mother said, but she still sounded miffed, and an awkward silence settled between them. Desperate to get the conversation back in motion, Lucy did something reckless.

  “Uh, well, anyway, I do have some good news. At least I think it’s good. I hope you will, too.” After all, Lucy’s mother had always been happy about her daughter’s successes, however small. Why should this be any different?

  But her mother’s reaction to the news was worrisome. “Oh.” Her voice was hushed. “You know I’m glad for you, Lu, but I worry what your father will say about this. He has his heart set on your being a business major, and you did promise.…”

  “But I am majoring in business,” Lucy said. “That isn’t going to change. This is just one play. It’s not a big deal. It’s something to do in my free time. Like a hobby. Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

  “I’ll try to explain all that to your father, Lucy. But you know how he is.”

  And because Lucy did very much know how her father was, she felt too queasy to rejoin Britt and finish breakfast. Instead, she trudged back up to the dorm, cell phone heavy in her pocket. Sure enough, just as she let herself into her room, it rang again. Lucy recognized the number. “Oh, great,” she said to the empty room, then steeled herself and took the call. “Dad?” she began.

  Even when her father wasn’t angry, his voice tended to boom. Lucy held her phone away from her ear, but she could still hear every word. She’d assumed her father would be upset with her, but he was way beyond upset. He began with a dig about how much he’d spent on her “little jaunt through Europe.” Then there was a long lecture on how when a person gave her word, she was bound to keep it.

  There was no use trying to get a word in edgewise, so Lucy listened in silence until her father said, “What I want to know is what you have to say for yourself.” As clearly as if she were in the room with him, Lucy could see the vein that throbbed in his forehead whenever he was mad.

  “I am keeping my word,” she said. “It’s one play, Dad. Just one.…”

  He launched into another lecture about how she was obeying the letter of the law but not its spirit, and how she knew full well that was a sneaky way to go through life.

  “Sneaky?” Lucy felt the vein in her own forehead twitch. “If I wanted to be sneaky, I wouldn’t have told you at all. You’d never have found out.”

  She should have known better. When somebody pushed her father, he always pushed back. “Is that right?” he asked. “What else are you doing that you don’t want me to find out about?”

  Too hurt to come up with a reply, Lucy yelped as if she’d been stung.

  “You’d better pay attention to what I’m saying right now,” her father continued. “You’re going to drop out of that play today.”

  “I can’t do that,” Lucy said. “They’re counting on me.…”

  She scrambled for the words to convince him that dropping out would be the dishonorable choice, that the cast of a play was like a team and she had to be a good team player, but he broke in. “They are a bunch of strangers. And I’m the guy who pays your tuition.”

  “But—”

  “Listen to me. If you don’t quit that play right now, this is your last semester at Forsythe. At any college, for that matter. I won’t pay another cent toward your education.”

  She couldn’t reply. For a moment, she couldn’t even remember how to speak.

  “Do you hear me, Lucy?”

  “I hear you,” she said, her words coming out still and flat.

  “And what are you going to do today?”

  Only one answer would satisfy him. “I’m going to quit the play.” It hurt to say the words. Lucy knew her father could be brusque—sometimes even harsh—when his employees failed him in some way. But he’d never spoken to her like this before. She’d never given him any reason to. Shouldn’t that count for something?

  Long after her father had hung up, she stared at the phone in her hand, as if it had done her some kind of injury. Then it rang again. This time Lucy’s mother was on the other end, sounding anxious. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  Angry tears sprang into Lucy’s eyes. “No, I’m not okay. You should have heard the way he spoke to me.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

  “Can you get him to change his mind, Mom? Can you at least try?”

  “You know how stubborn your dad is, Lucy. When he makes up his mind about something…” Lucy’s mother’s voice trailed off. “But here’s what I’ll do. When he comes home after work tonight I’ll talk to him. Maybe plant a seed. Over time, he’ll come around.”

  “He wants me to quit the play today.” Lucy sniffled. “Once I quit, they’ll give the role to somebody else. You don’t understand how important this is to me.”

  “I think I do.”

  “You’ll try, then?” But Lucy knew it was hopeless. A battle of wills between her soft-spoken mother and her hardheaded father would be like a match between Bambi and Godzilla.

  In psychology class, Lucy doodled instead of taking notes. At dinnertime she lost the thread of her friends’ conversation, drifting off into her own thoughts. As unthinkable as it was that she might have to give up the role of Maureen, the alternative—having to drop out of school—was even worse. What choice did she have but to quit the play that very night?

  XIX

  On her way to rehearsal, Lucy practiced the words she would say to Marcella. That night’s session was supposed to be spent blocking out “Over the Moon,” Maureen’s big solo number, and Lucy had been really excited about it. Now she would have to pull Marcella aside before rehearsal and ask to speak to her in private. It killed Lucy to know somebody else would be taking over her role. When Britt had gotten home from class, Lucy had cried on her friend’s shoulder for a good half hour.

  “And you think he really means it?” Britt had asked. “He’ll cut off your tuition if you don’t quit the play?”

  Lucy had sniffed loudly and reached for a tissue. “I think he really means it.”

  Now, legs trembling, she climbed the stairs to the Theater Arts building. If she could ju
st talk to Marcella before rehearsal started, she would blurt out her apologies and put this whole episode behind her. But that was not to be.

  “Hey there, Lulabelle,” Cleo’s voice sang out from behind her. “You excited for tonight?”

  Lucy spun around to face Cleo and Matteo. At the sight of them, her lower lip started to tremble.

  “Uh-oh,” Matteo said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She looked around the lobby for Marcella, but the director wasn’t in sight.

  “Really?” Cleo said. “Because you look like somebody’s just run over your cat.”

  Lucy felt that tingling in her nostrils that always meant she was about to burst into tears. She steeled herself. “My cat’s holding its own,” she said brightly. “Or it would be, if I had one.”

  “Good thing,” Matteo said. “Because tonight you get to show the doubters what you’ve got.”

  “Doubters?” Lucy asked, glancing over at Celia Bursk, who was stretching in the corner, surrounded by her friends in the chorus. “There’s more than one?” A girl with black pigtails caught Lucy’s gaze and turned to whisper in Celia’s ear.

  “Stupid is contagious,” Matteo said.

  “Never mind them,” Cleo said. “Tonight’s your chance to reinvent yourself.”

  “Create your own legend,” Matteo agreed.

  “Teach Celia Bursk a thing or two.” Cleo pasted a big, phony smile on her face and waved airily at Celia, who glared in reply, first at Cleo, then at Lucy.

  “Take cover!” Matteo grabbed Lucy’s arm and turned her away. “She’s trying to melt your flesh with her death ray.” The three of them dissolved in a peal of giggles.

  “She hates me,” Lucy gasped out. This thought was strangely elating… until she realized how glad Celia would be when Lucy dropped out of the play.