“I always thought she was a total cardboard cutout.”
Rex shrugged. “She wants to be. She doesn’t realize she’s better than that.”
“She’s lucky she has you.” Murphy was thinking about how wrong the Cawley-Smiths were about him. It was amazing how wrong.
“She needs me,” Rex said, this time sounding a little wistful.
“Is that bad?”
Rex shook his head. “Not at all.”
With nothing more to say, they both looked out at the parking lot.
“I love the south of France, don’t you?” Murphy nodded toward the square of concrete as if it were the Mediterranean.
Rex grinned at her and patted the top of her wrist. His touch felt warm and sweet.
“Love it. I knew July was the best time to come.”
Brighton and Danay stood in front of the orchestra. A moment ago Brighton had tapped the microphone and the whole room had quieted. Now all eyes were on Danay and her fiancé.
Leeda milled nervously beside her parents, uncomfortable about what Murphy had said. She was dying for her mom to say something, anything, about it. Just so she could know what she thought. But Brighton was going on and on, thanking several of the guests by name, then thanking Lucretia and Phil for raising such a smart, beautiful, thoughtful daughter. He dug out the line about how children were a reflection of their parents and that if Danay was a reflection of hers, they must be two very incredible people.
Leeda wanted to keel over. Until Danay took the mike and added a special thanks to her, Leeda, her maid of honor. This made Leeda’s heart warm up just a bit.
“Guys, she’s single,” Danay added. Leeda’s heart turned back into ice. She scanned the room for Rex, but he wasn’t in sight.
When the speech was over, she felt her mom’s eyes on her and turned. “Well, Leeda, I have to say your friend is colorful.”
This was what she’d been waiting for. “Murphy just gets…passionate about things, Mom. Anyway, I think she’s right. I don’t think you—”
“Birdie, you don’t hang around girls like that, do you?”
Birdie looked strangely tranquil, not fidgety at all. She swayed a little, the chocolate martini in her hands sloshing up the side of the glass. She grinned. “Murphy’s one of my best friends.”
Leeda blinked at her a few times. Then she turned to her mom defiantly. “Me too, actually. Murphy’s one of my best friends. So you should just try to accept her.” It sounded weird that it had come out. But the more Leeda thought about it, the more it felt true.
Leeda’s mom frowned, looking over Leeda’s shoulder, then back at her, then touching her lightly on the shoulders and turning her around. “Well, she does seem very passionate about Rex.”
Leeda’s eyes lighted on Murphy and Rex, standing out on the balcony, looking out at the view together. She turned back around.
“Oh, please, Mom. They’re my friends.”
“Well, they make a neat pair,” Mrs. Cawley-Smith said. “You have excellent taste.” She wagged her cocktail napkin, showing that she was empty, and headed back toward the buffet table.
Leeda stuck her tongue out at her mom’s back, then looked back toward the balcony. It was nice that Murphy and Rex were finally getting along a little. It was.
“Your mom’s kind of a bitch,” Birdie said, her words long and drawn out.
Leeda looked at her. “Thanks, Bird.”
“Sorry.” Birdie smiled apologetically.
“She thinks she’s looking out for me.”
Leeda peered out at Murphy and Rex, talking earnestly with each other. She swallowed the tiny lump in her throat.
“Well, she’s wrong about Murphy and Rex. They can’t stand each other.”
“I know.”
Birdie followed her gaze thoughtfully. The view on the balcony told a different story. “Even if they do start getting along, it doesn’t make your mom any less of a bitch.”
Leeda agreed completely.
“I’m starving.” Birdie was good and woozy, and her stomach felt achingly empty. “I think I drank too much.”
“Maybe you have an oral fixation,” Murphy suggested.
“I was just nervous,” Birdie moaned.
They were sitting on the steps outside Camp A, talking in low voices. Murphy and Leeda were sitting close to each other, their fight apparently forgotten, though neither of them mentioned Murphy’s display at the party as the reason why. To Birdie, it was obvious.
“We’ll go into the kitchen and wrassle you up some grub.” Murphy popped up, looking no worse for the wear for all the Manhattans she’d drunk.
“I have some Girl Scout cookies in my closet upstairs.”
“You can’t go in the house,” Leeda warned.
“Aren’t you eager to be reunited with your doggies?” Murphy asked. They’d left Honey Babe and Majestic with Emma, who adored them, for the night.
Birdie shook her head and stared at the house. She had never wanted a Thin Mint more in her life. “He’s sleeping. C’mon,” she begged. “Will you guys walk me up to the door?”
While the girls waited, Birdie let herself into the house and crept upstairs to her room, then padded down into the kitchen. She emerged onto the porch with not only two boxes of Thin Mints but a bag of salt-and-vinegar potato chips and a six-pack of beer.
“Birdie,” Leeda said. “Your dad’ll find out you took that.”
“Trust me, he’s so depressed I could take the fridge and he wouldn’t notice.”
“But I thought you said you drank too much.”
“Apparently not.” Birdie plunked down on one of the rockers. She pulled a beer out of the plastic ring and held it out to Murphy, who looked at her thoughtfully.
“You all right, Bird?” She took the beer.
“Sure.”
They all began sipping their beer. For a while they just took in the sound and smell of the orchard at night.
“Maybe since you’re feeling so bold you should make your move on Enrico right now while he’s in his bed.”
Birdie stiffened. She knew Murphy was joking, but even the idea made her nervous.
“I’m not making any move on Enrico.” Birdie gulped at her Bud. “He’s not interested anyway.”
“Why wouldn’t he be interested? Of course he’s interested.” Murphy sounded like she was saying that of course the sky was blue.
“Oh, he is definitely interested,” Leeda added. “Did you see the way he looked at you tonight when we were leaving?”
Birdie thought back to it. She’d been too busy avoiding looking at him to look at him.
“Yeah, but earlier, in the shed…” Birdie stopped. She was too embarrassed. “God, he’s hot.”
Leeda and Murphy snickered quietly.
“Thanks.” Birdie coiled up defensively.
“Sorry.” Leeda blinked up at her, patting her thigh. “Birdie, he likes you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re sweet.”
“You have the best hair,” Murphy added.
Leeda nodded in agreement. “You pick a mean peach. You know how to do all this farm stuff that makes you look cool. You’re a steel magnolia.”
“Oh God.” Birdie waved the compliments off with a weak wrist. But secretly, she was touched.
“Birdie, you have to go after what you want,” Murphy said. “How do you expect to get it if you don’t?”
“Well.” Birdie looked from one to the other unsurely. Their faces sort of swam in front of her. “What do you think I should do?”
“Just bend over a lot in front of him.”
“Murphy!” Leeda slapped Murphy on the thigh. “Maybe you should just invite him to hang out down at the lake or something.”
Birdie tried to picture herself doing that. “It’s impossible. Saddle Tramp will be the only man I’ve ever been with.” With those words, her stomach had started to do something odd. She put down her beer. “Um. I don’t…” Her sentence trailed off. She wasn�
��t sure it was a good idea to open her mouth anymore.
“I can tell him.” Murphy played with the top of her can. “I’ll be very subtle.”
Leeda laughed. “You don’t know how to be subtle.”
“Shut up.”
Birdie tried lying back on her back, but that was a mistake. The ceiling of the porch was spinning.
“You okay, Tweety Bird?”
Birdie shot up and lunged for the porch railing, retching with a loud groan. She felt someone’s hands on her back and her hair being lifted. She retched several more times and then took a deep breath.
“Birdie?”
The lights above snapped on. Birdie saw her shadow suddenly materialize on the lawn beneath her. Oh God. She stood up and turned, Murphy’s hands still on her, but Murphy and Leeda had turned also.
Her dad was standing on the porch in just his boxers. His belly hung over his shorts slackly and palely. As he took in the empty beer cans and food lying on the porch, his expression changed from one of concern to something else entirely.
Birdie felt the world spinning beneath her. It took only the look on her dad’s face to tell her it was the end of summer as she knew it.
Chapter Eighteen
Bird, Poopie says your tail is stuck in a crack. What exactly does that mean? And what are you doing in there? x! Leeda
Dad made me dust everything. Body has gone numb from depression. Even cookies do not have the same appeal they used to. Have you seen E.?
During the first week of August the orchard work began to slow. Everyone trickled out of the trees imperceptibly earlier each day until Leeda realized that they were actually making it in before noon every time. There just weren’t that many ripe peaches to pick.
It wasn’t until then that Leeda looked around at the trees and noticed how empty they were. Only the Jefferson and O’Henry rows were left, the very last peaches to bloom. Another twelve days and that would be it. There was a sense of relief that so far the peaches had been free of brown rot, but everyone could tell the orchard wasn’t yet out of the woods.
The orchard was strange without Birdie appearing everywhere you looked. She’d been restricted to the house for a week, working in the office and cleaning, helping Poopie cook. Most of this information Leeda and Murphy got from Poopie herself, who sat on the porch with her and Murphy from time to time, her eyes round and sympathetic, her cross glinting in the sun, rocking back and forth and filling them in.
It was harsh. There was no other word for it. And when Murphy pointed this out to Poopie, she closed her mouth and refused to comment. But it was obvious she agreed. And when Leeda asked her to tell Birdie to open her window between three and four every day, she didn’t say she would.
But on the second day, when Leeda looked up at the window, it was open.
Leeda was an amazing shot. Always had been. She got it in the first try, setting off a flurry of barks and two butterfly-eared dogs peering down at her, their front paws up on the window defensively. And then Birdie appeared in a silhouette, waving to her.
“Don’t you feel like a huge piece is missing without Birdie?” Leeda asked, lying on Murphy’s bed. They were listening to the Libertines, which Leeda hated. “And can we change the channel?”
Murphy shrugged. “Sure.” She didn’t talk about Birdie the way Leeda did. But Leeda knew she felt the same way; she’d at least figured out that much about Murphy. It wasn’t the same without Birdie. Even she and Murphy didn’t seem to have quite the same connection as when Birdie was around. It was like it all didn’t work quite right without the three of them.
E. is lost without you. So are Murphy and me. But Murphy says E. looks like he’s been hit by a tire iron, whatever that is. Murphy says hi. How much longer is your tail going to be stuck?
Three more days. If haven’t succumbed to despair by then. Dad is killing me. Have buried myself alive in a crust of disdain. That’s García Márquez.
Murphy was walking across the grass one afternoon when Honey Babe and Majestic appeared, sprinting toward her, jumping at her ankles and licking all around her lower legs.
“You guys are disgusting,” she said with a smile, crouching and pushing them away. She stood and started back across the grass alongside the dorms toward her garden. Honey Babe and Majestic ran on ahead of her on the tiny footpath, turning around from time to time to wait for her. The three of them broke through the last few feet of brush together.
Over the past few days the garden had exploded. The roses were vibrant and red and luscious and velvety, lining the edges. The hydrangea glowed neon blue. Murphy stood on the edge of it, sizing it up. Other than a few weeds she planned to pull today, it was perfect. She couldn’t remember anything she’d done that she felt more proud of.
Honey Babe and Majestic lay down under the trellis while she knelt and dug up the last few strings of grapevine, occasionally resting back on her heels and gazing at the dogs or up at Birdie’s window.
“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping her company?” she asked. The dogs tilted their heads at her quizzically. “Dumb dogs.”
Murphy hadn’t tossed any messages up to Birdie. She hadn’t stood outside her window, trying to catch her attention like Leeda. With the end of her sentence approaching, Murphy felt herself closing up like petals at night, thinking of going back home to life as normal. If she let her mind calm down and really thought about it, she realized how fearful she was starting to become.
She let her eyes drift up to Birdie’s window again, and this time there was Birdie’s silhouette in the window. Murphy raised a hand to wave sedately. Birdie waved back, then disappeared.
Murphy looked back at the dogs, who were leaning against each other, eyeballing her. She wanted to share her success with someone other than two papillons.
She stood up, brushed the dirt off her knees, and walked back to the dorms. She knocked on Leeda’s door, but there was no answer. Murphy grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from her room and wrote on it: Dinner in the garden, 7 o’clock. Bring gifts.
That evening she put together sandwiches in the kitchen and made lemonade. She set out toward the garden with her blanket rolled under one arm to use as a picnic blanket. She dug a Wilco CD out of her collection and hauled her CD player down the path. Halfway down, she ran into Rex.
“Rex, hey…” Murphy hoisted the CD player up tighter under her arm.
Rex had a couple of peaches in his hand and he held one out toward her. “Hey. Have a peach.”
“Thanks.” Murphy stuck the peach in her pocket.
“Your garden looks really good.”
Murphy smiled. “What were you doing in my garden?”
“I don’t know. I’ve kind of been keeping an eye on it. And I’m out of here tomorrow, so I wanted to get a final look. You did a good job.”
Murphy’s heart sank. “You’re going already?” She was as surprised at the question as Rex appeared to be. It didn’t sound like her at all.
Rex stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around. “They don’t really need me anymore. I guess everybody’ll be trailing off from here on out.”
Murphy kicked a toe in the dirt. “Yeah. I keep forgetting. I keep thinking it’s only me that’s leaving. It’s weird.”
Rex looked at her seriously and didn’t answer. Finally he said, “Leeda and I just took a nap down at the lake.”
“Oh.”
They looked at each other.
“What’s with all the goods?” Rex said, indicating the stuff in her arms.
“Oh, I’m having a picnic. Me and Leeda.”
“Sounds great.”
“Um.”
“I’m so glad you invited me.” Rex gave her his cocky grin.
Murphy sighed and let her shoulders sag. “Fine. Whatever. See you at seven. You’ve got fifteen minutes. Clean yourself up a little, huh?”
“No problem.” He continued on down the trail.
Bird, try to come to the garden.
Leeda crumpled up
the note into a ball and lofted it into Birdie’s window, then walked through the trail to the trellis. When she got there, Murphy and Rex were laughing about something, sitting cross-legged, Murphy with her back against the trunk of the nectarine tree, her cupped hands resting on the grass between her legs, and Rex resting back on his hands.
“Hey, baby,” Rex said, smiling up at her and patting the grass beside him. Leeda tried to ignore the tiny voice that was telling her he didn’t seem one hundred percent happy to see her.
The food—just sandwiches—tasted more exotic in the garden, and the lemonade was sweet and cool. Leeda relaxed, picking flowers from where she sat and sticking them all over Murphy’s curly hair.
“I guess Birdie isn’t making it,” Leeda said when she’d finished her second ham and cheese.
“Poor Bird,” Murphy said, stretching out on her back and smushing most of the flowers.
“Moment of silence for Birdie missing the picnic,” Rex said, and they all bowed their heads, Murphy bowing hers against her chest where she was lying. When the moment of silence was over, Rex turned to Murphy.
“What’re you going to do when you grow up anyway?” Rex asked.
“Move to NewYork.”
“Ooh, that sounds good,” Leeda said. “Maybe I’ll come. We can go to NYU.”
Murphy tucked her hands behind her head. “Nah. I don’t know. I think I’ll get a job as a waitress. Something romantic like that.”
Rex frowned. “What about school?”
Murphy shrugged. “I’m not so into school.”
“Don’t you think that’s kind of a waste?” Rex sounded concerned enough to make Leeda feel a little jealous. Murphy sat up.
“What, do you think waitresses are stupid?”
“No, I just think you’re stupid. Aren’t you a genius or something?”
“You just said I was stupid.”
“I think anybody who has something good and wastes it is stupid.”
Leeda looked back and forth between the two of them, feeling like a spectator to their conversation. Rex was gazing sternly at Murphy and Murphy was narrowing her eyes at him in return, and neither of them seemed too concerned about what Leeda was doing when she grew up.
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