Past Perfect Life

by Elizabeth Eulberg

  Julia grimaces as she holds out her bag.

  While they act like twins, and look similar with that thick, curly Gleason hair, Julia and Jan are thirteen months apart. Their parents decided to have them be in the same grade, since they were allegedly inseparable as kids. While still extremely close, they couldn’t be more different. Julia’s president of Student Council, Key Club, and Future Farmers of America, and vice president of the senior class. She’s perpetually outfitted in a cardigan and ballet flats, even in the dead of winter. Jan, on the other hand, is one of the best athletes in school and only wears yoga pants and fleeces and puts her hair in a tight ponytail with numerous bobby pins to tame it. They are two of the four Gleason cousins Marian has in our grade.

  Neil (aka the Harry), the “red sheep” of the family with his dad’s ginger hair, also sits with us. Lee hangs out with her own friends, as she has fought against being defined by her family her entire life.

  Dad isn’t really kidding when he refers to the Gleasons as the royal family. As one enters Valley Falls, they’re greeted by Gleason’s Garage, which is owned by Marian’s dad, who also happens to be the town mayor. Five blocks down Main Street is Gleason’s Grocer (run by Marian’s uncle Peter and her grandfather), which is the heart of the small downtown district.

  “We need to get on this family’s good side,” Dad had joked as we first entered town all those years ago. And that was before we realized that Marian’s mom is the elementary school principal, her uncle Brian is the sheriff, her aunt Karen is the city comptroller, and her grandmother is editor in chief of the community newspaper.

  You can’t walk more than a block without running into a Gleason. Marian took me under her wing on my first day of fifth grade. She guided me gently by the elbow and started introducing me to everybody.

  I’ve been by her side ever since.

  The entire Gleason clan has, in a way, adopted Dad and me. We go over to one of their houses—all within two blocks of one another—for holidays. I might still be full from Thanksgiving last week. We’re invited to any family event. And man, do the Gleasons always look for an excuse to get together and celebrate. They’re a friendly, funny bunch, and also extremely loud. I guess if you’re one of ten cousins within eight years of one another, you have to shout to be heard.

  “SHUT UP!” Jan yells at Neil now. “Let’s go outside, and I will wipe the floor with you. Girls can be just as fast as guys.”

  “Especially if the guy in question is Neil,” Julia replies with a snort.

  “Hey,” Neil protests, and then tries to flex his skinny arms.

  “What’s going on?” Rob asks as he sits down next to Marian. “Did I miss everybody picking on Neil? Because if so, let’s start from the beginning.”

  Neil shakes his head as he takes a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks matching his ruddy hair.

  “We’re talking about college applications,” Marian says, always the peacekeeper of the family.

  “Can we talk about Neil instead?” Rob winks at Marian before pulling her in for a kiss.

  The Gleason clan reacts by gagging.

  Neil wisely ignores Rob and turns to me. “So, Ally, how are applications going? Not like you have to worry about getting into schools.”

  “Yeah, Miss Valedictorian,” Jan says with an overexaggerated bow of her head.

  Marian groans. “Did I miss the memo that we now refer to everybody as Miss Something or Other?”

  “Miss Bossy,” Jan and Julia reply in unison.

  “I’m struggling with the essay questions for scholarships,” I admit.

  “Right? Who are the sadists who come up with this stuff?” Rob asks as he pushes back his long black bangs that are always in his eyes. “Where do I see myself in ten years? I don’t even know where I see myself this weekend.”

  “Which is why I’m in charge of our social calendar. And we have Lee’s party on Saturday,” Marian reminds him.

  “Right, right …” Rob’s dark brown eyes stare at my plastic container of taco mix. “Are you going to finish that?”

  I push my remaining lunch at him. Rob eats more food than should be humanly possible. Even though he has the tall and sturdy build of a football player, the only exercise Rob gets is by working his mouth overtime.

  “Rob, for the love of God, let Ally eat her lunch,” Marian says with a shake of her head.

  “It’s okay,” I reply. I was finished. Plus, I’m not afraid to use my fork on Rob when he forgets to ask. Which is often.

  “So, Ally,” Rob begins as he inhales a tortilla chip full of my leftovers. “What questions are you stuck on?”

  “Apparently, I haven’t had any significant events in my life.”

  Neil places his hand on my forearm, and I feel a jolt. “Same. All I could think of was that one time I forgot my phone on our way to Green Bay. I had to go an entire day without it. I’m still scarred.”

  “I’m so glad you brought up phones,” Rob says with that cocky smile he has, and I already know what he’s going to say before it comes out of his mouth. “I found some string the other day and have a metal can, so I was wondering if you want it, Ally. It would probably get better reception than that antique brick you call a cell phone.”

  “My phone works just fine,” I say, but then I can’t resist it. “I like that I can’t access social media twenty-four-seven. Less opportunity to see your face, the better.”

  “Burn!” Neil says as he holds up his hand for me to high-five. I happily oblige. Then I give Rob a taste of his own medicine and steal a cookie that he has left on the table. He should know better with this company.

  “Just ignore him,” Marian tells me with her lips curved ever so slightly. She’ll tease Rob with the rest of us (because it’s so easy to do), but he makes her happy. I guess every group needs to have a well-intentioned-yet-oftentimes-annoying goofball. Plus, I mentioned he has his own car, right?

  Rob puts his arm around her. “As if you could ignore me.”

  Marian raises her eyebrow at him. “Is that a dare?”

  Rob pulls his arm away and holds his hands up in surrender.

  Here’s one thing everybody knows about a Gleason: you never dare them. Ever. I’ve witnessed the grossest things being eaten or drunk all in the name of pride. Jan and her older brother, Don, once did a push-up contest that got so competitive neither of them could move their arms the next day. For the record, Jan won—never letting a boy beat her at anything.

  “Let’s get back to something more pleasant,” Jan offers. “Getting out of town.”

  The table starts talking about colleges in Madison or Milwaukee.

  Unlike most of my classmates, I’m not that eager to escape. I don’t want to be too far from Dad. Green Bay is less than an hour away. I could technically still live at home, even though that would require a car, but Dad keeps telling me that isn’t “part of the college experience.” Not like he knows. I’ll be the first person in my family to go to college.

  Which is why it’s so important for me to get into a good school (and be able to pay for said school). Dad has always stressed how important education is, and he wants a better future for me. Even though I like my present. But I get it. I see the toll his construction job takes on him: the ache in his back from carrying heavy loads, the limp he has when he gets up from the couch, along with the stress from the uncertainty of where the next paycheck will come from when he finishes up a job.

  So I have to nail these scholarship essays. Not just for me, but for Dad, too.

  As if she could tell what I was stressing about, Dana Harris approaches our table. She is the only one who can take away the Academic Excellence Scholarship from me. Dana always walks with an extra bounce in her step, causing her impossibly long, waist-length blond hair to bobble behind her. “Hey, Neil,” she says with a bat of her eyelashes.

  Oh, and she also continually throws herself at Neil. Not cool, Dana. Not cool.

  “Hey, Neil,” Rob and Jan mimic. Rob even puts h
is chin in his hands and stares across the table at Neil with a lovesick expression.

  “What’s up?” Neil replies without looking at her.

  “Are you done? I thought we could walk to Physics together.”

  “And, you know, have our own physical relationship,” Rob says, not even attempting to be quiet.

  Neil gets up, probably in an attempt to avoid Rob embarrassing him even more. “See you later.” Neil looks at me to save him, but all I can think to do is shrug.

  “Love, exciting and new,” Rob sings in a cheesy lounge-singer voice he’s imitating from this old TV show Dad and I sometimes watch if he wants to get “nostalgic.” (In case this wasn’t already obvious, Dad and I watch a lot of TV.)

  Marian waits until Neil and Dana exit the cafeteria before she hits Rob on the arm. “Leave Neil alone. You know he doesn’t like Dana.”

  “Yeah, but Miss Clueless has no idea he likes her,” Rob fires back.

  “Can we stop with the Miss stuff?” Marian gets up from the table.

  “Who’s Miss Clueless?” I ask. Neil and I talk every day on the way to school, and he hasn’t mentioned anything to me. Oh God, maybe it’s because he knows that I kind of, I don’t know, maybe … I don’t know. Clearly.

  “Let’s go, Ally.” Marian balls up her lunch bag as I get up and follow. When we arrive in the hallway with the senior lockers, Marian looks around suspiciously.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. Marian usually isn’t concerned about who can hear her. It’s pretty hard to keep a secret in a town of two thousand people, especially if you’re a Gleason.

  “Nothing, it’s just that I know what your topic can be for your essay.”

  “Ah, thank you!” I reply. Somehow I knew Marian would have the answer for me.

  “Maybe you should write about your mom,” she says softly.

  Oh.

  “I know you don’t like talking about it, but losing—”

  “There’s nothing to say.” I cut her off.

  I have a hole in my head and heart when it comes to my mother. She died when I was three. I only have one photo of us: her holding me right after I was born. Whenever I look at it, there’s absolutely no recognition of her. None.

  As heartless as this may sound, I’m almost grateful for it. I see what her absence has done to Dad, not like he ever talks about her. It’s still too painful for him. Both his parents had already died, and then he lost a wife and had to raise a daughter by himself. I’ve only ever known life as the two of us.

  He’s the one who lost something.

  Marian holds up her hands. “Just hear me out. All I’m saying is that you’re looking for a significant event, and losing your mom must’ve had some kind of impact on your life. It’s pretty much the definition of ‘significant’.”

  I shrug as I fight the sting behind my eyes. “I’ve got to get to class.”

  I turn before I completely lose it.

  Yes, there were times it was really tough not having a mom around for certain moments, but I don’t think about it a lot because it’s something that I had absolutely zero control over. Writing about her for an essay isn’t going to bring her back.

  What does Marian expect me to do? Write about how my dad isn’t enough? Because he is. He has to be. We’re all we’ve got.

  Besides, it’s hard to miss someone you don’t remember.

  Chapter

  THREE

  A rare moment of quiet has descended upon the Dorn house.

  All three kids are in bed with their teeth brushed, faces washed, and pajamas on. Two bedtime stories successfully read. The dishes from our dinner are in the dishwasher. The granite countertops and kitchen table are clean.

  Now the only thing left to do while I await Mr. and Mrs. Dorn’s arrival is to try to finish one more scholarship application.

  Discuss a special attribute or accomplishment that sets you apart.

  I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but Rob is right. Just thinking that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. But he has a point: Who are the sadists who come up with these questions?

  Every person has to be unique in her own way, right? So all I need to do is think about something special about me. Besides the fact that I let these scholarship questions destroy my self-esteem.

  There’s a quiet knock on the front door. Even though Dad and I are obsessed with horror movies, I don’t get worried about this classic B-movie horror setup: babysitter in a big house when it’s dark outside.

  In Valley Falls, nobody can really do anything without setting off alarm bells. The Dorns’ neighbors would have already dialed 9-1-1 if they had seen somebody on the street they didn’t recognize.

  When Dad and I first moved here, it took only two days before practically the entire town had come to introduce themselves, our refrigerator overflowed with casseroles, and our calendar was packed with playdates and town meetings. Now we’re part of the welcome wagon when someone new comes to town, rare occurrence as it is.

  So I don’t even bother to check if it’s safe before I open the door.

  “We’ve got a noise complaint,” Sheriff Gleason greets me with a crooked smile. He’s in full uniform, his cop car parked in the driveway. He looks past me into the quiet house. “I see you’ve hidden the keg.”

  “So, I guess I should tell the meth dealer not to come,” I reply with a straight face.

  Sheriff Gleason laughs, which he probably shouldn’t when anybody jokes about drugs. But it’s me. So it’s funny. Straitlaced, predicable Ally Smith.

  “What can I do for you?” I step aside so he can come in.

  “Just dropping off this pan Nina left the other day.” He hands me a glass pan. “Don’t want to interrupt your kegger.”

  I sigh. “Yes, these essay questions aren’t going to rage on by themselves.”

  Sheriff Gleason takes off his hat, and his thick curls stand up in all directions. “How are the applications going? Jan and Julia are at a boiling point with them.”

  “Pretty much the same.”

  He gives me a warm smile. “You’re a smart girl, Ally, and responsible. Any school would be lucky to have you.”

  So I’ve been informed.

  “Is Mom back?” Five-year-old Annie pads into the kitchen with her bare feet, rubbing her eyes.

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” Sheriff Gleason says in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “They’ll be home soon.” I brush my hand against her pillow-creased face. “But you need to go back to bed. You have school in the morning, and your mom will be disappointed to see you awake this late. Plus, we don’t want Sheriff Gleason to arrest you for staying up past your bedtime.”

  “That’s right,” he replies as he pulls up his belt. “I think what we have here is a five-sixty-eight: minor ignoring bedtime.”

  Annie’s eyes get wide as she starts to head back to her bedroom.

  “It’s okay,” I reassure her. “I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

  Sheriff Gleason puts his cap back on. “Well, I see my job here is done. Pan delivered so the wife will be happy, and Annie back to sleep so the babysitter can get some peace and quiet. Not a bad day’s work.”

  “Thanks.” If I get the essay done before the Dorns arrive, I’ll have just enough time to watch a so-bad-it’s-good ninety-minute movie with Dad before he turns in early due to his seven a.m. start at the site.

  “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck with those essays.” He turns to go down the porch stairs, but pauses. “Or not. Looks like you have another visitor.”

  I look out to the sidewalk and see Neil approaching the house. “Hey, Uncle Brian,” Neil replies with a sheepish grin.

  “Don’t stay out too late,” Sheriff Gleason orders his nephew. He tousles Neil’s hair as if Neil were a toddler instead of a nearly six-foot-tall eighteen-year-old.

  “I’m just bringing Ally something,” Neil replies as he gives me a shy look.

  “Come on in,” I say to Neil as w
e both wave goodbye to the sheriff. I lower my voice. “But we need to be quiet. Annie has already come out here once.”

  “Okay,” Neil whispers as he wipes his green-and-white Vans on the doormat. “Marian told me you were here. My mom made brownies tonight, and I thought I’d drop off a couple for you. I remember how much you like them.” He hands me a plastic bag, which contains two giant chocolate brownies.

  I open the bag. “Thanks and yum.”

  “Yeah, I think we all lost count of how many you had at Thanksgiving.” He looks down at the kitchen floor.

  “Hey!” I say a little too loudly, and cover my mouth.

  “The children,” Neil whispers as he shakes his head. “Think of the poor sleeping children.”

  “Yeah, because I’m so not sharing with anybody.”

  “Hey, be nice. I stopped playing a video game to walk the entire block and a half here to give you that.”

  “Okay, you can have half a bite,” I relent as I break off the smallest piece for him.

  Neil tugs at the sleeve of his navy blue down jacket before taking a step toward me so we’re only inches apart. I mean, we have to keep our voices down and everything, but I’m rarely so close that I can count the freckles on his nose.

  I look away.

  “So, ah, what are you working on?” Neil gestures at my outdated laptop on the kitchen table.

  I sit down and look at the one whole sentence I’ve written. “Another scholarship.”

  “Need any help?” He pulls a chair over to sit next to me.

  “Since you offered, do you know what special attributes I have that set me apart from others?”

  Neil looks thoughtful for a moment. “How many do you want?”

  “Ha ha,” I say. It was stupid for me to even bring it up.

  But Neil starts listing off items on his fingers. “You’re really smart, a good listener, you’re really funny, and since you’re sometimes quiet—which I know how hard it is to get a word in around my family—it makes it extra funny when you say something hilarious. Um”—he gestures around the Dorns’ house—“you do a lot of things for others.”

  “I’m getting paid to be here,” I remind him.