Waiting

by Carol Lynch Williams

  We talk about:

  * Boys at school

  * Girls at school

  * Queen Suck Face

  * Utah

  * Africa (and other family travels)

  * How long ago we stopped traveling and settled down

  Then, just like that, Lili is sound asleep.

  “Lili?”

  I’m on a pallet next to her bed. Her arm hangs down, creamy white, fingers relaxed. Her pretty face is almost hanging off the bed too, her mouth a little bit open.

  “Lili?”

  There’s no sound from her but deep, slow breathing.

  I lie on my back, look at the ceiling that seems clouded with the darkness.

  Down the hall I can hear Jesse still talking to Queen Suck . . . I mean Lauren, my used-to-be best friend. I can’t hear his words, and all the sudden I want to.

  Should I?

  Should I go listen in on him?

  My heart pounds at the thought. I haven’t done anything daring like this in so long. Well, not including sleeping all day with Taylor. But that doesn’t count because it wasn’t planned. My lips tingle.

  I get up on my knees.

  What’s my body doing? I haven’t decided to listen, and yet, here I am getting up like I’ve made a plan. Like I’m

  Lauren. How embarrassing!

  But it’s my body that’s doing the decision making.

  I crawl toward the door.

  Look back at Lili, who sleeps on, her face like an angel’s, in the dark room.

  Outside the door, I stand up. Well, sort of stand up. I’m crouched over but I’m off my knees. My heart thumps.

  My mouth has gone dry. Do I have toothpaste on my lips? Why do I feel so giddy?

  Jesse’s voice is low and I can’t make out the words still.

  In fact, I have no idea where he is.

  Down the hall I go, crouched over like I have a spine problem. I cover my mouth with my hand. I’m grinning.

  Grinning.

  There! He’s there, behind this closed door. I can hear him, voice soft, deep from the late hour maybe? He speaks only a few words every now and then. A sigh from the bed. Maybe he’s turning over. For some reason I think of French toast, me flipping it over on the greased skillet for Zach and him saying, “I could eat your French toast all day, London,” and me saying back, “I’m not making it for you all day, Zacheus.” I was mad that day. Why was I mad?

  I don’t hear anything about me, though I listen. I’m so dumb! Why would Jesse and Lauren talk about me? Ha! They’ve probably talked about sex. Or making out. Or how good-looking Jesse is.

  It’s quiet for a long moment, and I run my hand on the door. It’s cool to the touch. Smooth. I imagine myself opening it, sliding into the room, sitting beside Jesse, kissing him right as he says Lauren’s name.

  Across the hall, one of the Fultons makes a sound. Are they getting up? And just like that, Jesse’s door opens.

  He looks startled, then he smiles down at me.

  “What are you doing here, London?” He’s so pretty it takes my breath away. Or maybe I’m having some kind of attack again. The truth is, I can’t see him that well, because a light is on behind him. He’s backlit. Glowy.

  “I’m just. I. I can’t,” I say.

  “You were listening.”

  I shake my head. “No. Not really.” My face burns. “Lili’s asleep and . . .”

  He leans against the doorjamb. He’s not wearing a shirt, and his chest looks so smooth I have the urge to run my hand across his skin, maybe rest my cheek on his . . .

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Huh? I’m not looking at . . .”

  “I saw you.”

  Is he kidding? I think he’s kidding. I try to smile, but my lips shake. “I better go back to bed.” I fake a yawn. I turn, walk back, hands sweating, knowing, knowing that he watches me the whole way to his sister’s room.

  I dream about Jesus.

  He’s on a hill—a big hill—like a mountain or something.

  And just like that, there’s Zach. My brother. The two of them stand together, and Jesus smiles like nothing else.

  Like He’s so glad that Zach’s with Him. It’s like they’re pals or something.

  When I wake up, the sun is just starting to rise. I can see the morning at the window, peering in.

  I lie still. I want to keep this feeling, this Zach feeling, this Jesus feeling, with me. Things seem so . . . I don’t know . . . so right.

  I go back to sleep before the sensation slips away, and I don’t dream again.

  “Morning, London,” Jesse says when I walk into the dining room with Lili. He has this funny look on his face, like he’s daring me to confess something. Confess my infatuation? I want to walk over and kiss him a good one, but instead I ignore him.

  “You sleep good?”

  “Did you sleep well,” Mrs. Fulton says. “Well, Jesse. Did you, London?” She mutters to herself, “We have got to get a pull-out bed for guests.”

  “Sure,” I say. I glance at Mrs. Fulton. Her back is to me as she pours huge bowls of Cap’n Crunch for her little boys. I stick my tongue out at Jesse. He just looks at me, waiting. But Natey sees what I do and gasps. He lets out a squeal of laughter along with, “London did something very naughty, Mommy. Very naughty.”

  “What’s that, baby?” Lili says. She picks Natey up and tickles at him.

  I have to look away.

  “She sticked her tongue at Jesse,” he says.

  “Yeah, Mom,” Jesse says, “London sticked her tongue out at me.”

  I’m horrified. “You’re acting ugly,” I somehow manage to say.

  “Am I?”

  I nod. I feel my face flame.

  “How?”

  I have no answer.

  Lili watches us. “Keep flirting,” she says. “You both know how I feel about Queen Suck Face.”

  There’s this photo of me with Zach.

  I’m newly born and he’s just over a year old.

  He’s got me crunched up to his little self, and he laughs as I kiss his face.

  It’s not a real kiss, of course, just a baby kiss.

  I loved him from the moment I was born until the moment he died.

  I love him still.

  I know I should go home. You don’t spend the night with someone—last-minute invited—and then stay all day on Saturday. Moms don’t like that.

  Still, I have to make myself leave.

  “I can walk,” I tell Lili after breakfast as she hurries to get ready. She has a dance class that she’s off to. Dance?

  Who does that? Normal people?

  I am so not normal anymore.

  Was I ever? I think so.

  “Jesse will take you home after he drops me off,” she says. She’s brushing all that gorgy dark hair. She smiles at me in the mirror. “Do you like him?”

  I’m holding this unicorn of hers. It’s small, has a golden horn and tiny golden hooves. I don’t expect her question. “Who?”

  She sets the brush down, then takes me by the shoulders. Her room is a mismatch of colors that somehow work together.

  “You know,” she says. “My brother.” Her voice is full of italics.

  “Natey and Steve are just too young for me,” I say. I can hear them in the other room. It’s the first time I’ve made a joke since Zach died. Wow. It feels good to say that silly thing.

  But it also feels like I’m betraying him. My brother gone too soon.

  My knees go a little weak, and I have to sit down on the edge of her bed. The blankets from my pallet are all folded. Resting.

  “You know who I mean, silly,” she says. She has a nice smile.

  I swallow. “I like him fine.”

  “Would you date him?” She still holds my shoulders, even though I’m rag-doll sitting now.

  I give a weak shrug. “He’s not interested.”

  Lili turns back to the mirror, pulls her hair into a loose ponytail. “I sure would like for
him to be.” She’s muttering. Bothered. “I do not like Queen Suck Face.”

  “Oh really?” Another joke.

  Again Lili turns to me. She’s dead serious. “She was all

  over him that very first day we came to school. Like all.”

  I nod because I’m not sure what to do or say. At last I get out the words, “He’s pretty damn hot.”

  “Sure,” Lili says, wrinkling her nose. “Sure he is.” Then, “Ready?”

  I nod.

  I want to say, “I’d be all over him too.” But I don’t. I just follow her out the door.

  Lili gives me this face/look when the three of us get in the van. It’s like a wink without the wink.

  “Take London home after you drop me off,” she says.

  She pats my hands that I’ve folded in my lap.

  “You are such a weirdo,” Jesse says. He glances at us in the rearview mirror. “My little sister is weird,” he says to me. Then he zooms off toward I-4.

  Lili starts talking and doesn’t stop until we’ve pulled into the Xtreme Dance Studio. A guy with auburn-colored hair leans against the wall, but when he sees our van, he puts this smile on his face. He saunters toward the parking lot and the stall where we pull in. And I’m not kidding about saunter. He really does.

  “Oh great,” Jesse says. “Little Lord Fauntleroy’s waiting for you.”

  “Jeffrey’s a gentleman,” Lili says, and she looks at me and raises her eyebrows. “That’s Jeffrey O’Rourke. He can really move. And he hasn’t groped me even once though I want him to.”

  “I’ll break his face if he gropes you,” Jesse says, and I can tell he means it.

  “I’m sure you will,” Lili says. She pops out of the van, leans in the window. “I’m off to be groped.” Then she skips over to Jeffrey, her dance bag swinging from her arm. He tucks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, smiling like all get-out.

  “Right.” Jesse throws the van in reverse. “I’ll be back for you,” he says to Lili, who turns, waves at me, calling, “See you later. Thanks for the sleepover. Love you, London!”

  Love you, London!

  Love you!

  “Come up front,” Jesse says.

  I can’t move. Love you, London.

  He looks at me over his shoulder.

  “Okay.” And just like that, I can’t get the image of him shirtless out of my brain either. I don’t look at his face as I move forward, fasten my seat belt.

  Love you, London.

  We’re quiet for a few miles.

  I stare out the wide-open window, the wind blowing in.

  I’m a little cold, and I roll it closed.

  Don’t look at him, I think.

  Remember Taylor, so blond. So tender to me.

  Think of Zach with Rachel.

  They’re so connected.

  Zach and Taylor and Rachel. They’re all together in my head and heart. Almost one.

  ZachTaylorRachel

  and me

  with them.

  And this Jesse.

  With Jesse, there are no memories.

  He’s free and clear except for Lauren.

  Jesse says, “What are you thinking, London?”

  Outside, the morning tries to get warm. The sun’s so bright I squint.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “Not thinking about me?”

  I can’t find my tongue for a moment. When I do, I stumble over it. “Lauren’s my friend. I mean, she used to be my friend.” I glance at him.

  His grin is wicked. “She doesn’t own me,” he says.

  We pull up in front of my house.

  In one glance I see that Mom’s home. There’s her car and Daddy’s, too.

  Jesse parks the van. Turns off the engine. He unbuckles his seat belt and then unbuckles mine.

  With his fingertips, he turns my face to his.

  His hand cups my chin, and he kisses me. Nothing big deal, that kiss. Except it is a big deal. His lips taste like syrup, but I know he didn’t have pancakes for breakfast.

  He didn’t have waffles, either. He ate Cap’n Crunch with his brothers.

  His fingers leave burn marks on my cheek.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that since English class that first day.”

  “Oh,” I say. I can’t look him in the eye. If I look him in the eye, I might kiss him again. No, I will kiss him again. “Well, thank you.” Somehow, I open the van door and stumble out onto the green, green grass of our lawn.

  I am the stupidest girl at Smyrna High.

  I am.

  Daddy is in the kitchen.

  Has he watched me from the window? He stands at the sink, coffee cup in hand, eyebrows knit together.

  I try to glide past, but I’m on shaky feet.

  “You know what Jesus says about fornication,” he says.

  “Excuse me?” I slow.

  “You know what He says.”

  “Ummm.” Coming in from outside makes the house seem darker than usual. Why hasn’t he opened the curtains? He knows they’ve been closed for months. Or maybe there’s something wrong with my eyes.

  “You didn’t come home last night.”

  I look him straight in the face—no problem looking at

  him—and say nothing. What does he care, huh? What.

  Does. He. Care?

  “First your brother and now you,” he says.

  My daddy knows I promised to wait to have sex. To wait until I’m married.

  “I can’t watch you do the same things he did. Destroying our family. Destroying himself.”

  Here’s my voice. I find it now. “Don’t you dare say anything about Zach.” I clench my hands into fists. “Don’t you dare.”

  I find my feet, too. I turn around and go right back outside.

  His lips were so soft.

  Love you, Lili.

  I just walk.

  There’s no place to go, really.

  But when I get to the cemetery, I know I’ve been out a long, long time. We live a good ways from the cemetery.

  Zach’s burial site is on the east side, because Daddy wanted him closest to Jesus when He comes again. “He’ll come from the east,” Daddy has said. Is that Scripture too? Like fornicating?

  Daddy’s written about both and preached that to the little congregations everywhere we traveled. But that’s not what he said in Africa or South America or Mexico.

  There he said, “Charity never faileth.”

  I walk to the farthest, most eastern part of this plot of ground. The sky looks like it’s been covered in marshmallow fluff, there are that many clouds. Every once in a while one creeps over the sun, and for a moment I feel colder.