by Carrie Pack
“You know, I never thought I’d say this, but Shut Up’s is better.” Jackie shakes her head as though she can’t believe what she’s saying.
“Right? I mean, it needs work, but it’s definitely got better lyrics. And that chord change right before the chorus? Way better.”
I look up as we’re turning down a road with a sign labeled, “Historic Binn Cannery.”
“Look, I’m not trying to rain on your parade here, Jacks, but an old factory where they give tours to bored grade schoolers? Doesn’t seem like good date material.” We took a field trip here once when I was in third grade. It was really dull, so Heather and I ended up making daisy chains from the wildflowers growing around the structure while a white-haired man prattled on about Prohibition Era businesses. It’s eerie today, though. No one else is here. “I think they’re closed.”
Jackie sighs, but it’s not from frustration; her smirk makes it seem more like amusement. “Will you just go with it?”
I lean back in my seat. “Fine.”
“Vee’s aunt, you know that white chick Donna who married her Uncle Marvin?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s on the historic preservation board and she helped me set this up.”
I’m still dubious about the quality of a date at the cannery, but if Jackie went out of her way to make it special, I’ll go along with it. For now.
Jackie pulls her car up alongside the cannery’s main building and motions for me to get out. She pops the trunk and pulls out a blanket and a picnic basket. “Can you grab that cooler?” she says, and I notice the tiny Igloo on the back seat. My stomach grumbles at the thought of food, so I’m definitely committed to seeing this through. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.
“Follow me,” she says.
We wind our way through the tall grass and wildflowers to the opposite side of the building where a large flat area has been mowed in a lopsided rectangle. Jackie spreads out the blanket and motions for me to sit. She methodically unpacks the picnic basket and arranges our meal. She hands me a paper plate and gestures for me to help myself. She’s brought what can only be described as a feast. Two kinds of salad, garlic bread, linguine with a rich garlic-butter sauce… and more bread. She’s even packed some kind of fancy, flavored sparkling water and plastic champagne flutes. And for dessert, Venus’s mom’s famous red velvet cake, with extra frosting. She’s thought of everything. I want to savor it slowly, but my stomach protests loudly and I dig in with fervor.
By the time we’re finished eating, the sun is sinking below the tree line and fireflies emerge in sporadic flashes of fluorescent green. I lie on my back and wait for the stars to come out while Jackie puts everything back in the basket. Then she lies beside me and pulls me close.
“This was a great surprise,” I say. “Much better than Donovan’s.”
I hear, rather than see, her smile. “Oh, I’m not done yet.”
I tilt my head in time to see a mischievous grin fade from her lips. “There’s more?”
“I’ll be right back,” Jackie says, pulling away and rising to her feet.
I prop myself up on my elbows to see where she’s going, but she’s disappeared into the tall grass. She’s gone long enough that I’m starting to worry, when a bright light illuminates the side of the factory. I look around for the source of the light and see a small, round ball of light in the distance behind me. It flickers like a projector, so I turn back to the building and the opening to a movie plays on the makeshift screen.
Just then, Jackie reemerges from the grass with a gigantic smile on her face. “Surprised?”
“How did you do this?”
“I’ve got connections,” she says.
I can’t decide whether to look at Jackie or the screen but when I hear the actors begin to speak, I finally pull my eyes from my gorgeous girlfriend and focus on the movie. Jackie wraps her slender arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek. It only takes me a minute or two to figure out it’s Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains. I’ve been wanting to see it since someone wouldn’t stop talking about it at a Riot Grrrl meeting.
“How did you get this?” The movie was never in theaters; the girl who brought it up only had a vague memory of it from late-night cable.
Jackie lowers her gaze and rubs the back of her neck. “I just asked around. Cherie’s cousin had a copy she taped off TV.”
“Thank you,” I say softly and without tearing my gaze from the screen. “This was the best surprise.”
“I love to see you smile,” she says and snuggles close to my side.
I hadn’t realized I was smiling, but now I definitely notice. My smile grows wider. This is the best night.
When Jackie drops me off at home, my mom’s car isn’t in the driveway. I check my watch. Still early. Mom probably won’t be home for another hour.
“You want to come in?”
Jackie kills the engine. We race each other up to my bedroom and throw our jackets to the floor. Her lips are on mine before I can get the light on.
“I wanted to kiss you all night, but I didn’t want to interrupt the movie,” she says. “You look so sexy in this.” She runs her hands up my thighs under the fabric of my babydoll dress, lifting it a bit higher. Her hand rests on my butt and she squeezes it firmly, which makes me giggle.
“What about you in these jeans?” I say to her. “I mean, have you seen yourself?” I take her hand and twirl her playfully. In return, I get a thousand-watt smile. We sway back and forth, dancing to the rhythm of our heartbeats instead of music. Jackie tucks her head under my chin and rests her cheek on my chest.
“I like when you make me feel small, like a girl.”
I scrunch my neck up to try to see her face. “Um, I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but you are a girl.”
She swats at my arm gently. “No, I mean you make me feel feminine, like I’m Meg Ryan in one of those cheesy romantic comedies your mom’s always watching.”
“Are we talking Sleepless in Seattle Meg or Joe Versus the Volcano Meg? Ooh, or maybe When Harry Met Sally Meg?”
“Doesn’t matter. All of the above.”
“You’re right. You’re way hotter than Meg Ryan.”
Jackie stops dancing and fixes me with her dark eyes. “No, I mean… it’s nice to be the love interest. To be the one who gets the happy ending.” She sighs wistfully. “Maybe it sounds stupid, but I never thought I’d have that. Hell, I never even thought I’d have a girlfriend.”
“I would have said my odds were pretty low, too.”
There’s a flicker of displeasure on her face, a hint of subtle tension in her brow, but it’s gone so suddenly I may have imagined it. Just in case, I pull her close and resume our silent dance. She relaxes into my arms and hums an unfamiliar tune as her hand drifts higher on my thigh.
Despite our picnic feast, I wake up the next morning positively ravenous. I think it’s because we ate so early. By the time Jackie left around one—after a heated make-out session—I crashed. So by eight o’clock, my stomach is protesting loudly and I’m in the kitchen digging through the pantry for an errant Pop-Tart or cereal bar. I’ve decided today is the day I talk to Mom about going on tour with Shut Up. Mom’s mostly over Dan, and, after last night, I’ve decided I’d rather spend a few weeks with Jackie than folding shirts with Teresa. I will need to put in my notice, though. I could join them for the last two weeks of the tour.
My search of the kitchen isn’t yielding much in the way of a quick breakfast. Mom hasn’t gone shopping in weeks. I start writing a list. Maybe she’s planning to go this afternoon. I jot down a few items before resuming my search for anything resembling food.
Finally, I find a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels on the top shelf behind an unopened bag of flour. It’s evidently the last thing in the house that doesn’t need to be cooked. It’s not much of
a breakfast, but it will have to do.
The squeak of the sliding glass door catches my attention, and I turn to find my mom sneaking in from the backyard with her shoes in her hand. She tries to close the door more quietly than she opened it, but it squeaks again and she grimaces. “Shit!” she whispers.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m up.”
Mom nearly jumps out of her skin as her shoes go clattering to the floor. Her right hand flies to her chest. “Tabitha, you scared me.”
I take in her rumpled appearance. Her blouse is half untucked, her skirt drapes crookedly over her hips and her usually perfect hair is a matted mess in the back.
Even though I’m about ninety-nine percent sure I know the answer, I ask, “Did you even come home last night?”
Mom blushes a blotchy shade of pink, and she bends to pick up her shoes. “I should have called, honey. I’m sorry.”
“Is everything okay?” She looks so lost. Maybe she had another run-in with Dan or his wife.
She brushes her hair out of her face and tries to smooth it down. “Um, yes. I fell asleep at a friend’s house.”
The way she says the word friend makes me think she’s leaving out crucial details, but I don’t press her. I’m just glad she didn’t come home to find Jackie and me half-naked in bed or she’d never let me go on that trip. I clear my throat. “Well, um… I’m going to find something for breakfast. I have to be at work at nine.”
Mom smiles awkwardly and shifts on her feet. “Right. I should uh, probably get a shower and change.” She crosses the room and gives me a kiss on the cheek on her way upstairs.
I try not to think about what my mom might have been doing last night or with whom as I munch on my breakfast of chocolate-covered pretzels and coffee. Maybe I’ll ask her about the tour tomorrow when she’s in a better mood.
Chapter 14
“Have you asked your mom about going on tour yet?”
Jackie and I are sitting in the fenced area of the park watching Sparky chase his tail and enjoying the first warm summer day of the year. I close my eyes and tilt my head back into the sun. Not too hot yet. It warms my face and I can almost feel the vitamin D jolt in real time. “Not yet,” I say.
Jackie sighs. “You promised.”
I tilt my head down and open my eyes. I haven’t filled her in on Mom’s relationship drama. Not fully anyway. “I will, Jack, but things are really complicated right now. Mom had a full-on meltdown the other night. I found her crying in the shower! And she’s coming home at weird times.” I pause and wait for a reaction. I expect Jackie to be shocked or something. Anything but the unsympathetic eye roll I get.
“You mom is a grown woman. She can handle herself.” Jackie’s brown eyes are piercing; her lips are set in a firm line. It’s hard to disagree with her. I don’t want to argue.
“I know that, but…” I can’t finish the sentence because I know Jackie won’t understand. She’s so fiercely independent, but I’m not. I’m just not. And anyway, I’m all my mom has.
After Dad left we promised that we’d look out for one another no matter what. I can’t leave her now when she needs me the most. Jackie looks at me expectantly. “Just give me a little time,” I say. I have no clue how I’m going to broach the subject with my mom, but I’ll figure something out. I hope. “What’s the rush, anyway?”
“The tour starts in a couple weeks, Tabitha. Time is running out.”
“But we still have weeks,” I insist. “Why are you pushing this? Can’t we enjoy the fact that I have a Saturday off for once?” I gesture at the park and the warm sunlit grass all around us. Sparky dashes to my side and sits expectantly waiting for me to throw whatever he must have assumed I had in my hand.
“Go away, dumb dog.” I show him my empty hands, and he sulks over to Jackie. She scratches him under his chin. This pleases him, I guess, because he bounds off to resume chasing his tail.
Jackie picks at the grass and tosses the torn blades in the air. They flutter and land far less dramatically than I think she intended.
I still her hands with my own. “Jack, what’s wrong?”
She doesn’t look up. “Nothing.” She shoves my hands away and picks at the grass again, this time more violently.
“You’re not a very good liar,” I say.
Jackie scoffs. “Yeah, well…”
I let her sit and stew, knowing she’ll eventually tell me what’s bothering her. I can’t be sure, but I sense that it’s more than the tour.
Finally, I get my answer.
“Vee’s parents want me to get a job.” She shreds a blade of grass and picks another.
I furrow my brow. “Well, that sounds reasonable.”
“I have to get a job and start paying them rent or move out.” She rips the fresh blade in two and then tears it again and again until it’s in tiny pieces.
“Ah.”
Jackie stands up, brushing the tormented grass from her lap. “God, it’s just like my parents all over again!”
“Come on, it’s not. You know that.” I say these words gently, but I don’t think Jackie takes it that way.
“What do you know? Your mom is so freaking accepting of you, but my mom? Yeah, she basically told me I’m going to hell.” She throws her arms up in frustration. I can see the pain of not having her family accept her has finally caught up to her. She talks a big game, but I know Jackie. She hurts just as much as the rest of us. The difference is Jackie doesn’t like to show it.
“You’re not going to hell.” I stand and put my arm around her.
She tries to avoid eye contact and blinks away some unshed tears. “I feel like I’m already in hell sometimes, you know?”
I’m not sure I know what she means. Does she mean Decker? Us? Living with Venus? I’m too scared to ask for clarification. Maybe there’s more to her wanting to go on this tour than I thought.
“Is this why you want to go with the band so badly?”
She nods. “I don’t want to be left behind when Venus leaves. I figure I can buy some time with her parents if I get out of their hair for a few weeks.”
“That makes sense.”
“And I really want you to go with me,” she says, circling my waist with her arms. “I want us to go together. I don’t want to be apart from you at all this summer.”
My heart picks up tempo at the familiar swoop in my belly. “I don’t either.”
She presses her face to mine. The tips of our noses touch and she looks like she only has one eye. I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Then go with me,” she says.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I’ll try,” I say. It’s all I can promise, and I hope it’s enough.
The rec center is nearly empty the following Tuesday when I arrive for the Riot Grrrl meeting, and I’m ten minutes late. Cherie and Kate sit in chairs facing each other playing cat’s cradle with an old shoelace. Marty sits nearby with her notebook; her pen flies across the page. Standing along the far wall are two girls from Central High whose names I can’t remember. And Venus is sitting on the floor, using one of the chairs for a makeshift drum.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
“It’s summer,” Kate says. “They’re probably doing other stuff.”
I nod. It makes sense. “Where’s Jackie?” I ask. Trying to avoid eye contact with Kate, I direct my question to the group. This is going to get awkward pretty quickly if Jackie’s not here.
“I thought she was with you,” Venus says between beats. She doesn’t look up.
“She said she was riding with you.”
Venus shakes her head and keeps drumming. “She told me she was covered. I assumed that meant you two were coming together.”
“Maybe I should go find her,” I say to myself.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Cherie says. Her smile is reas
suring. “Why don’t you come sit with us?”
Kate’s eyes dart in my direction but she doesn’t say anything. I take the seat closest to Cherie and tuck my feet under me. “I haven’t played cat’s cradle since middle school.” Heather and I used to play all the time but we’d eventually get caught in a looped pattern of the same three setups. Cherie and Kate seem to have a method to keep it from being too repetitive. Or maybe it only seems that way.
“My fingers hurt,” Cherie says. “And I have to pee.” She lets the shoelace drop and Kate catches it. “You want to play?” Cherie stands and gestures for me to take her seat.
I catch Kate’s expression, expecting her to look as shocked as I am, but instead she smiles and threads the shoelace across her wrists and then her fingers.
“Come on,” she says. “You know you want to.”
Something in her eyes looks like a dare, and it’s almost like the first time she kissed me. My stomach flutters, and I have to clear my throat to conceal my nerves.
“Okay.” I switch seats. Cherie bounces off to the bathroom, leaving me and Kate staring at each other.
Kate tilts her chin to indicate I should begin, so I pinch the two X’s made by the thread with my thumb and forefinger. Then I pull it out and under, transferring the game to my hands. We go back and forth a few times in silence. It’s nice not being uncomfortable around Kate. And if I’m being honest with myself, I’d like to be her friend again.
“Your hair looks good like that,” I say.
“Thanks,” she says, moving the cradle to her hands. “It’s gonna be a bitch to grow out, so I may be stuck with it for a while.”
“You’ll make it work.” I pinch the thread between my fingers and loop it back on itself, but I slip and it pulls tight on my wrist. “Shit.”
Kate giggles at my clumsiness. “We had a good streak going, too. Here, let me help you.” She takes my hand and unwinds the shoelace.
Her hand lingers a second too long and I pull away. Blushing, I rub my wrist.
“Sorry,” Kate mutters.
“It’s okay.”
