Swelter

by Nina G. Jones

It was bizarre though. It wasn't just a gift. It was something we had bickered over and drew hard lines on. Suddenly, he was pretending as though it was never an issue.

  “Now, the electric use on this thing is insane. So we should keep it on only if it gets above 85 and only when we get to bed.”

  “I'll finally get some sleep.” Another lie to protect Rory. I now had new reasons for sleepless nights.

  I looked over at Bobby, who had remained quiet, standing behind us as a spectator. “Awww, but you still have to sleep in the heat,” I added sympathetically.

  Rory's face dropped when he realized he had forgotten his brother.

  Bobby waved off the concern. “I don't mind the heat. And you guys don't worry about me. Really.”

  The boys carried the AC into the house. I laughed to myself when I heard Rory cursing as he tinkered with installation.

  “Yoohoo!” Barbie's voice called as she tapped the glass on the back door before letting herself in.

  “Hi Barb.” She had been a great help with getting the cookout set up, spreading the word and contributing however she could. I'd called her almost daily and she was eager to help.

  “Hey Lilly.” She stopped in her tracks. “Wow, you look good. Like really good.”

  I shrugged. “I guess it was the fresh air.”

  “Well, listen. I have some of those fold-out tables you need. They don't fit in the car. I was seeing if I could recruit Bobby for some assistance to get them over here.”

  “Uh sure. I don't know where he is.” Bobby had gone absent since Rory returned. “He might be back with Rory putting in the new AC.”

  “New AC?” she shouted.

  I bunched up my shoulders. “Yeah, can you believe it?”

  “No. I was convinced I'd find you two melted to death before that happened.”

  I went to the bedroom. Rory didn't even notice me as he told the appliance to go to hell. Bobby wasn't with him. He wasn't anywhere in the house. Had he already left in search of a motel?

  I went to the front door to check on his truck, and there he was, tossing a ball with the Anderson's kid.

  “Oh, there you are,” I said.

  “Looking for me?” he asked with a boyish grin.

  I made an apologetic frown. “Barbie is requesting your services. She would like you to help her bring over the fold-out tables.”

  “Oh, I see,” he said. He tossed the ball at Petey. “I gotta run kid. Just keep snapping at the wrist like I showed ya.”

  The little boy smiled and scurried away.

  I held the door open as Bobby walked by. Having his smell so close to me whenever I wanted was something I already missed. “Now be good,” I whispered to him playfully.

  He crossed his heart at me and winked before turning.

  “Barbie!” he called out. “Putting me to work on a holiday!”

  They left together and I was alone in the stillness of my living room. Barbie didn't concern me. She was a silly woman. Bobby knew that. But it didn't stop me from feeling a little resentful towards her constant need to compete and seek out the attention of men. Especially when the man was my Bobby.

  But we all had our issues. And beneath her silliness, Barbie was good to me. Always willing to lend an ear, or help out when I needed it. And to me, that's what mattered most.

  Rory finally emerged from the bedroom, slapping his hands together. “Was Barbie just here?” he asked.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Did she tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Oh maybe she doesn't know. I called Stan at the office, and I made some plans for us all to go out to dinner this evening.”

  What happened to Rory while he was gone? The AC and now this? I almost for a moment feared he might know and was trying to win me back. But if that was the case, his reaction would not be so kind. Was Rory finally turning over a new leaf?

  “Oh that's great!” I said.

  “Put on something nice.” He slapped my behind before heading to the kitchen to help himself to the warm lemonade iced tea I left on the table.

  Seven Years Earlier

  “My little girl looks so beautiful,” my dad whispered into my ear as he embraced me. The violinist changed her tune, indicating it was our turn to proceed down the aisle. The lace cape sleeves of my dress itched in the heat. The neckline felt like it was tightening on its own, threatening to wrap around my neck. I hoped it would so I could have an excuse to cry out.

  I looped my arm around my father's, resisting the urge to rip off the collar of my dress, just so I could be free. I prayed. I begged for help. And it wasn't that my pleas were ignored, or that they floated unheard into the universe.

  No. My prayers had been answered, and the answer was: it's too late.

  I tried not to look at Bobby, the best man, but my eyes betrayed me for a fraction of a second. In that fragment of time, I saw a hollowness in his eyes. Like he was there physically, but found a way to escape the moment so he could survive it. Bobby had resigned himself to our fates. I looked back at Rory, who was smiling like a flappy-eared dog, and burst into tears. People smiled around me thinking I was overwhelmed with love, and I was, but not for the groom.

  I felt dirty as the vows were recited, like I was rubbing my happiness in Bobby's face. But I wasn't happy. I hoped he understood this was all an act. That I had to pretend for my sanity.

  And then when Rory took my hands, my heart skipped. Not because he had that effect, but because I still had the ring on. The one Bobby gave me, on the finger where Rory would be putting on my wedding band.

  Rory’s vows to me were a blur as I tried to figure out a way to remove the ring before he might notice. I got my chance when he turned to grab his ring from Bobby. I slid it off my ring finger and in an attempt to transfer it to the other hand, I dropped it. As if my heart needed any more pain, I watched it roll towards Bobby's foot and stop at his shoe.

  He looked at me, and saw the look of horror in my eyes. In that moment, he comforted me with a nod as he picked it up and inconspicuously slid it into his pocket.

  So, I did what I was there to do. Vowed to love and honor, through sickness and health, 'till death do us part, the brother of the man I truly loved.

  As the sun set, I finally had a moment to sit and breathe. Family, friends, strangers, they were all here, congratulating me on my new life. They didn't know they were smiling in my face on one of the saddest days of my life.

  I hadn't seen Bobby since the ceremony. And I hoped he understood that losing the ring was an accident, and I intended to follow his wishes and hold on to it.

  I didn't know how I would act when I saw him again. Just hours ago, we were professing our love, making plans to run away, our bodies united in a way that I only ever intended to be with my husband. And now, this invisible line had been drawn. A simple ceremony had cut us off from ever having that again. We would have to go back to the way things were.

  “Where's the necklace?” Rory asked as he sat beside me, his arm around the back of my chair.

  I felt for my neck. “Oh no! I guess I forgot in the pre-wedding hullabaloo. I am so sorry. It was beautiful. Thank you so much.”

  “Of course sweetie.” He kissed me on the cheek and I felt nothing. “You look so beautiful today,” he said.

  “Thank you, honey. You look handsome. Very handsome.”

  Rory sat back, watching the sun descend upon the lake. “Can you believe one day, our kids will swim in that lake? Climb those trees? Play in this grass?”

  I shook my head wistfully. “No. To be honest I still feel like one of those kids myself.”

  “Ha. Me too.”

  The sound of clinking rose above the humming of the crowd. Others joined to boost the signal.

  I followed the sound and my heart clenched when I saw Bobby standing, a champagne flute in one hand, a knife in the other. Bobby had been drinking. I could tell just by looking at him. My entire body stiffened thinking of the possibility of him losing it
up there, spilling our secrets in a drunken speech. But when he uttered the first words, I knew he brought the Bobby everyone loved. The one that people wanted to hover around, hoping they could get just a sliver of the magic he possessed.

  “I've known Lil since I was, I think, six. Maybe seven. She and I sort of have a reputation of getting after it. I think it started when I tried to steal her candy apple at a carnival and she socked me. Hard. And then began a thirteen-plus year war that still rages until this day.

  That girl has a savage right hook on her, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Bobby paused as the crowd laughed. His tone changed as he looked to the floor, almost uttering the words to himself more than to the rest of us.

  “Lil, the girl who was beautiful no matter how hard she tried not to be.

  “And if there was anything I knew early on in my life, it was that Rory had eyes for her. He loved her before he even knew what that meant.”

  I choked back tears as I recognized the words he said to me the night before. His secret message to me in front of everyone.

  “I knew my entire life this day was inevitable.”

  Bobby looked up with glassy eyes at Rory.

  “Rory, you bastard. You're marrying the most amazing girl I've ever known.”

  Bobby's eyes moved to mine next, but as soon as they locked, and he saw my tears, he broke the gaze, looking down to the floor. His Adam’s apple rose and fell as he masterfully braced for the emotional upheaval. He looked at me again with a smile that betrayed the melancholy in his eyes.

  “Lil, take care of that man. He's a huge crybaby. And he'll always try to get his way. But he's only a crybaby because he has a huge heart. And people with big hearts sometimes hurt a little more.”

  Bobby raised his glass.

  “To you both. You two are the luckiest people in the world to have each other. I am truly happy that you two are taking this step together. I am. If there is anyone in the world whose happiness I would want before my own, it's my brother's. And so, today, I am the happiest I have ever been and may ever be. To see the way he looks at you Lil, I know this is his happiest day too.”

  He abandoned the sober tone for a more triumphant one.

  “So here's to summers at the lake, skinny dipping under the moon until we're 80, little Lightlys running around carefree like we once did, right hooks from Lil, and hugs from my future nephews and nieces.

  “You two are going to have an amazing life together. I am so happy for you. I really am.”

  Bobby paused for a second.

  “I love you,” his voice cracking as he uttered the words.

  “To Rory and Lil!” he announced, and everyone took a sip of their champagne.

  The glass clanged again as my father took the floor. I watched helplessly out of the corner of my eye as Bobby slipped away from his table, out of the tent, and into the dark of the night.

  I wouldn't see him again for seven years.

  Summer 1957

  “Sorry we're late!” Barbie announced as she scampered over to our table with Stan. “The twins were being impossible. Throwing tantrums before we left them with the nanny.” Her unlit cigarette dangled from her lip in a daring balancing act.

  “No worries,” Rory said, standing to greet her and Stan.

  Stan was a hulking man, especially for the time. He was about six-foot-four, with a large belly. He had played offensive line in college and his presence was noticed in any room in which he entered.

  “Heya Rory, how's it going?” he extended his hand for a shake. “Lilly,” he nodded in my direction.

  “Great Stan. I've been working like a mad dog. This hot summer is great for business. How about you?”

  Stan, who was a good deal older than Barbie, was the state director for a local insurance agency, and he and Barbie lived with money to spare. Stan leaned back in his chair, leaking an arrogance that he tried to conceal behind a thin layer of decent social skills. “You know, people always need insurance, no matter what the weather.” He winked at Rory.

  Rory nudged me. “This guy keeps trying to get me to go work with him.”

  I smiled weakly, genuinely uninterested in their small talk.

  “I heard your brother came back. Is he some sort of Beatnik?” Stan rudely asked.

  “He's not a Beatnik,” I interjected in an annoyed tone.

  Rory glanced at me, surprised by my reaction, before looking back at Stan. “No, he's not. He's just the kind of guy who flies by the seat of his pants. He fought in Korea actually, shot right in the shoulder. I don't think Beatniks do that. He's just not the type to sit in an office, I suppose.”

  I was happy to hear Rory defend his brother.

  “Well,” Stan snatched the now lit cigarette from Barbie, who harrumphed at the theft, “apparently, all broads on our street are gaga over him. They ogle him doing lawn work and the like. Turns out men who put on suits and work all day aren't appealing enough.”

  I directed my eyes towards Barbie who didn't return the look, her eyes planted on Stan.

  “Do I sense some jealousy?” Barbie teased.

  Stan scoffed. “Pssst. I'm just saying what I've heard.”

  “Suddenly you have time for neighborhood gossip,” she jabbed, snatching back her cigarette, the ash falling on the white tablecloth in front of them.

  “Nah, that's just Bobby. It's been like that as long as I can remember. Something about him. He has to swat off the ladies,” Rory chimed.

  “I don't recall you having such a hard time with the girls yourself, Rory,” I added.

  “Meh. Yeah, I had girlfriends. But I was always chasing after you it seemed.”

  We eased into comfortable conversation as drinks hit the table. I subtly monitored Rory, afraid he might rebound. He had been dry, at least in my presence, since the night he shot at the ceiling. I didn't know what he was doing on his business trips, as he was always a fan of post-work happy hour, but it was nice to be around a Rory whose blood wasn't tainted with copious amounts of alcohol.

  Stan, on the other hand, drank liberally on this night. Not being a small man, he could hold his own, but as the night went on, anyone would notice his lips getting looser after his sixth scotch.

  “Hey, Lil. How was Chicago?” Stan asked.

  “Chicago?” Rory turned to face me, befuddled.

  I had no idea how Stan knew, and I couldn't find the words to downplay it, being caught so off-guard.

  “How'd you know?” I asked.

  “Barbie mentioned it.” He jabbed his thumb in her direction.

  I darted my eyes at her. “Bobby told me that was the plan. To visit.” She held in a boozy burp as she answered.

  I turned to Rory, doing my best to downplay the impromptu excursion. “I forgot to mention. It was right after you left. He wanted to meet some friends and didn't want to go alone so he dragged me there.” I rolled my eyes as if the whole thing was a nuisance.

  “Oh, that was nice of you,” Rory replied. “Whereabouts?”

  “South Side.”

  Stan raised his eyebrows. “South Side?”

  “Yeah, to a jazz club. It was a lot of fun.”

  “He is a Beatnik!” Stan jeered. “So you were dancing and jiving with all those niggers?”

  Barbie pulled his highball glass out of his hand. “Stan, you've had too much.”

  He snatched it back. “What? We're amongst friends.”

  Rory and I glanced sideways at each other and shifted in our seats uncomfortably.

  “What's the big deal? It's just a word. Anyway, were you the only whites there?”

  “Um, no, there were a couple of others. That's beside the point.” I tried to shift the conversation, but Stan seemed fixated on Bobby being some sort of Beatnik who loved black people. Which I suppose isn't a problem, but his insistence on bringing him up made me uncomfortable.

  “So is Bobby into black women then?” he prodded.

  “What kind of question is that?” I sniped.


  “Alright, maybe we should discuss something else,” Rory suggested. But I had had enough.

  “You know what?” I leaned forward to get a closer look at Stan. “Some of those people you call niggers, served and died for our country while you were busy dodging.” His eyes widened. “Yeah, I know what your daddy did for you. Barbie told me,” I smirked, imitating the way he brought up my Chicago trip at the table. “They bled the same blood, and some never got to see their families again. Just so you could sit there and drink your scotch all self-satisfied and call someone you haven't even met a Beatnik because they don't work for some two-bit insurance agency.”

  I shot up from the table. “I'm ready to go, Rory,” I said.

  Stan and Barbie sat there with their mouths agape.

  “Lilly, I was just teasing!” Stan desperately tried to pacify the situation.

  “Fine. But I am still done for tonight. I'll see you both tomorrow. I have a lot of preparation left and Rory didn't think about that when making plans. No hard feelings.”

  I stomped away from the table as Rory stayed behind to smooth things over. As I exited the restaurant he jogged behind to catch up.

  “Lilly. You okay?”

  “I'm fine,” I insisted.

  “That escalated really quickly.”

  We both slid into the car.

  “What? Are you going to tell me what a drag I am? That I should just let the men do the talking? Because he was being repulsive tonight. Way more than his usual self.”

  “What? No! I—I think what you just did was . . . it might have been one of the best things I have ever seen. Stan can be such a jackass. The shit he was trying to say about Bobby . . . and saying words like that at the table.”

  “So you're not mad?”

  “No! In fact, it's been a while since I've seen you like that. Feisty. And I don't know . . . just . . . wow.”

  I smiled and locked eyes with Rory. And then I started to laugh, and he did too. I didn't know what came over me either. I never liked that kind of talk, but hearing what happened to Curtis and making friends with Will and Sasha now meant I wouldn't tolerate it either.