Winter Town

by Stephen Emond

  They sat on the couch. Evan shifted a little to face her. “Get any cool presents?” Evan asked her.

  Lucy shook her head. “Santa was still asleep when I left, so if he got me anything, it’s waiting on the roof with Rudolph. It’s fine. What about you?”

  “Not much,” Evan lied. “Laptop for college, some clothes.”

  Gram came into the living room not long after with an envelope for Lucy and a box in her hand. “I thought maybe your friends Timmy and Marshall might have come over. Maybe you can give them this for me, then.” She handed Evan the box.

  Evan was hesitant. Of course she’d mean well, but he would have to know what was in the box before he gave it to anyone. Sometimes Gram was too open-minded, and this gift could be just about anything.

  Gram sensed the hesitation. “It’s a couple of scarves,” she said. “Not because they’re gay, but because everyone should have a scarf.”

  Before handing Lucy her gift, Gram asked her what she thought of Evan getting her name tattooed on his arm. Lucy was all for it, and said she’d get a matching tattoo herself. Gram handed Lucy the gift to open.

  “Oh,” Lucy said. “I didn’t buy anything for you.”

  “Oh, please,” Gram said. “You’re kids. Save your money for something good.” Lucy opened the envelope and pulled out a Starbucks gift card. “This is so you can take some handsome young man out for coffee back home.” Gram patted Lucy’s leg.

  “Oh my!” Lucy said with a laugh. She stood up to give Gram a hug and Evan clenched, hoping his grandmother wouldn’t smell the alcohol on her breath. There was no mention of it, no awkwardness at all, and Lucy sat back down just as the front door opened and another set of Evan’s aunts and uncles came in with three more children. The children ran into the house, screaming and shredding more wrapping paper. Their parents spotted the mistletoe overhead and shared a kiss and wished everyone a Merry Christmas.

  Mom walked into the living room to give Lucy her gift next, which was in a perfectly cubed box. She wished Lucy a Merry Christmas and gave her a hug and a kiss and handed her the present.

  “Your dad said he’d stop by today, honey,” Mom said. “He didn’t come with you?”

  “No,” Lucy said, and shrugged her shoulders. “He wasn’t awake when I got up.”

  “Well. You stay here as long as you like. Have some food.We made too much,” Mom said, looking around to get something for her.

  Lucy opened her second gift of the morning. She tore the wrapping paper and opened the box to find a loosely stuffed dark brown bear, slouched over and looking up at her.

  “You’re never too old for a stuffed friend,” Mom said.

  “Thank you, that’s very sweet,” Lucy said, and gave Mom another hug.

  Evan took the bear out of the box and walked him around on his and Lucy’s legs.

  “Did you know?” Lucy asked.

  “No, I had no idea,” Evan said. He wiggled the bear around, facing Lucy, and got a chuckle.

  Evan’s cousin’s daughter Jana crawled onto the couch and onto Evan’s lap. She had a bow in her hair, and her face and fingers were sticky. She looked at Lucy and smiled hesitantly, and Evan laughed and sat her up properly.

  “What do you think, Jana?” Evan asked. “Do you like Mr. Bear?”

  Jana shook her head no, and Mr. Bear mauled her with his cuddliness. “Rawr!” Jana laughed.

  “What do you think now?” Evan asked her. “Do you like Mr. Bear now?”

  Jana nodded and put all her fingers into her mouth. Her eyes moved to Lucy, and, deciding Lucy was a friend, she reached her wet, sticky fingers out slowly toward Lucy’s face.

  The bathroom door opened, and one of the children stepped out, surveyed the room, and made a run toward the other children.

  “I’ll be right back,” Lucy said, dodging messy fingers and making a quick dash to the unoccupied bathroom, taking her pocketbook with her.

  Evan sat on the couch, waiting for Lucy and holding his book, keeping his end of the couch warm. On the TV Santa Claus was waving to the masses as the parade ended. The doorbell rang. One of the kids ran to the door and looked through the glass window and saw a tall man standing there. He gave her a goofy smile, and she laughed and ran away. Evan answered the door.

  Before Evan stood Doug Brown, a far cry from the robed, unshaven man he’d been the other day. His remaining hair was tidy, his face shaven, and he wore a nice shirt-and-pants combination. The sly bastard, Evan thought. He could still pull it together! The Browns certainly had a capacity for change.

  “Hi, Doug, Merry Christmas,” Evan said with a large grin, and opened the door fully. “Come in.”

  “Evan, Merry Christmas to you,” Doug said, shaking Evan’s hand. Doug had a bag of gifts with him. “Hold on, I have something for you.”

  Doug found the gift with Evan written on it and handed it to him. “I hope you like.”

  “Wow, thanks,” Evan said, opening the gift. It was a knit hat, something Evan collected. He did like.

  Lucy came out of the bathroom, looking worse than before. Evan glanced at her, worried that a scene was inevitable at this point. Lucy held her gaze on her father, though, and Evan thought she looked like a small, sticky-fingered child looking at Santa standing before her with a sack full of presents.

  “Dad?”

  “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said.

  Lucy walked slowly over and gave him a hug, her head placed against his chest.

  “Kind of embarrassing,” Doug whispered to her. He handed Lucy her gift. “Slept right through the alarm. There’s more back home.”

  Lucy watched him as she unwrapped it. It was a hardcover collection of The Divine Comedy. “I know it used to be your favorite. The old one was looking a bit ratty.”

  Lucy looked up at her father, as if the idea of him all cleaned up and handing out presents was too much to process. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said quietly.

  “What’s going on?” Evan asked Lucy, sitting down beside her on the couch a little later. She clutched one of her books tightly and shushed him. She was eavesdropping on her father’s conversation with the Owenses. Evan joined her in listening. Doug sat at a table with Dad and Mom and the three of them were reminiscing about old college adventures. A glass clinked, and there was a commotion as if someone had just spilled a drink.

  “Oh no,” Mom said, disappointed. “Oh, I’m sorry, guys.”

  “Not at all,” Doug said calmly, quickly standing up. “There we go.”

  “Always cool,” Dad said.

  “Oh, it’s true,” Mom said. “Nothing ever fazed you.”

  “Tut tut and all that rut,” Doug said quickly. “It’s the British temperament, I suppose. I had my moments, though.We both did.”

  “Well, you never showed us,” Mom said.

  A chair squeaked, and Doug sat back down. “Where were we?” he said, and for a moment they all laughed.

  “Cool British temperament,” Dad said.

  “Oh, right,” Doug said. “I suppose when Lucy was born things became a little less mellow.”

  They all laughed knowingly. “I think that’s allowed, hon,” Mom said.

  “Oh, not just the birth,” Doug said. “She was always a handful. I think she ran away at least once a month for a few years straight.”

  Evan turned to Lucy. “Maybe you should at least go in there and join the conversation,” he said. Lucy waved him off.

  “I remember one time,” Doug said, “she ran away because she’d been punished for the last time she ran away. We wouldn’t let her attend some sock-hop party with her Girl Scouts and she ran off. We hadn’t heard back from her for hours, we phoned the police, we went out and searched the neighborhood. I got home and there were cookies left out in the kitchen, so we knew she’d been home. She was either in the house or nearby. She finally came home an hour later, and I swear I could have just killed her. I yelled and yelled ’til I was red in the face. I just loved her so much.” Doug paused for a m
oment. “So. Not always cool, no.”

  It sounded like a far cry from the family Evan had known. He looked at Lucy, who was eyeing the bathroom again, and put his hand on her purse. “Leave it,” he said.

  Lucy covered her mouth quickly, but her cheeks puffed out and a small amount of vomit fell onto her shirt. Startled, Evan let go of the purse, which she grabbed as she ran back to the bathroom.

  When Lucy emerged five minutes later, Evan took her arm and pulled her quickly upstairs. Lucy looked angry but didn’t have enough sense left in her to do or say anything about it. Instead, she pouted like a child and tripped over stairs. Evan continued to pull.

  “Are you crazy?” Evan asked, shutting the door behind Lucy as she stumbled into his room. “People are going to notice! Your dad is down there.”

  Lucy stared at Evan, fuming, her fists closed, her upper body heaving, her mouth clenched tight. Her black eyeliner was smeared from crying, and her foundation and lipstick were a mess from wiping vomit off her mouth. She looked like she had a million things to say but couldn’t remember one. So instead, she cried. She sobbed and moaned, and she shuffled her feet over to Evan and she grabbed his sweater and pulled it to her face and rubbed her blotchy makeup and tears all over it.

  “Lucy,” Evan said, and repeated her name several times. “Lucy…” He held her shoulders and then gave her a hug and walked her over to his bed, where he sat her down and she cried hot tears on his shoulder.

  “Shh,” he said, hoping nobody would hear and come check on them. He petted her hair like she was a puppy.

  They reclined on the bed; Lucy lay on half of Evan, grasping at his shirt and sweater and wrinkling the sweater, pulling the breast of it into a ball. The sobs became sniffles and the sniffles became groans and the groans became heavy, labored breathing, and then she fell asleep. And then Evan fell asleep, too.

  After twenty minutes and an ounce of drool had passed, Lucy rolled over onto her back, taking up what was left of the bed.

  “I didn’t buy anyone presents,” Lucy mumbled.

  “ ’S okay,” Evan said quietly. It was late afternoon. The room was dark with shadow, and the white Christmas lights outside Evan’s window had been turned on. Evan figured there was too much going on downstairs for anyone to notice they were gone. That was a lucky break.

  “I’m selfish,” Lucy said in a whisper. Her eyes were closed.

  “You’re brave, though,” Evan said, looking down at the top of her head. “And confident. You know, usually.”

  “I’m not either of those things,” Lucy said in a childlike voice. Like someone who’d just thrown a tantrum and tired herself out. “I’m a mess.”

  “You’re pretty,” Evan said, ignoring her self-deprecation. “You’ve always been so pretty, even with your hair all messed up. Even with all this drool.”

  Lucy didn’t say anything to this.

  “You know what’s my favorite thing about you?” Evan asked her quietly. “There’s no one on Earth like you. You’re just a complete individual, and that’s the biggest compliment I can think of. I can live another hundred years and I’ll never meet another person like you. And that makes me feel just really special to know you, you know?”

  Lucy stirred a bit at his side, pulling her head back to look up at him. “Do you know what I like about you?” she asked.

  Evan smiled. “No, what?”

  “That you’re my home. And my rock.” She put her head down against his shoulder and her hand on his arm. “And you’re warm and stable and you make me feel safe. And you’re so smart, and so talented. I mean… you don’t even know how much I look up to you.”

  Evan turned red. He’d never heard that kind of compliment come from Lucy. About anyone, let alone himself. She seemed like a different person, but one more like herself than any of the new or old Lucys.

  “I didn’t give you your Christmas present. Hang on.” He wasn’t even sure he wanted to give it to her. He thought maybe it was lame or corny, but at the moment it felt right.

  “Huh?” Lucy asked, as Evan got out of the bed and turned his desk lamp on. The movement woke Lucy up a bit, and she held her upper body up on her elbows. Evan rummaged through his art and pulled out the drawing he’d done of them as cartoon characters for their Web comic. It was painted in watercolor, and said For Lucy, Love, Evan. Evan took it back to the bed, where he sat down, and Lucy leaned up to look at it. Evan watched her touch the painting, nervously waiting for her reaction. She looked sad for a moment, and she looked up at Evan, and she looked sad and confused. Lucy leaned forward and kissed Evan on the lips, and Evan kissed her back, and he let go of the drawing and put his hand over hers, and she held the back of his head and they kissed each other for the first time in their lives.

  “I’m sorry I threw up,” Lucy said quickly and quietly between kisses. “I didn’t plan on this.”

  Evan held his head against hers, and she pulled her head back and her sad eyes looked into his. “I always wanted to do that,” she said.

  And they kissed again.

  INTERLUDE

  THE LITTLE GIRL I ONCE KNEW

  Shortly after Evan had walked home from Lucy’s father’s house one year prior, Lucy was on a plane to her home in Georgia. She arrived at the Atlanta airport on a bright Saturday morning. To her surprise, it was not just her mother who met her, but her mother and another. The “another” was Bill, Lucy’s mom’s new boyfriend. He had hair that was practically molded to his scalp like a sculpture, a plastic smile, a pressed shirt. He was the type of southern conservative Lucy would go miles out of her way to avoid. Lucy didn’t trust a thing about him. As they drove home, her mom turned back in her seat to face Lucy, a matching plastic grin like she’d never seen before. Lucy thought she’d been abducted by pod people. She was ready for the car to hover and blast off into outer space at any given minute.

  Lucy’s mother wasn’t motherly by any stretch of the imagination—she was always much more of a friend than a mother. The same could be said for her dad. Lucy never had any rules; she was rarely watched or held to any standard. Her sense of humor, her spongelike ability to absorb knowledge, her ambitions in creative fields—they could all be credited to one person: Lucy.

  Lucy’s mother, Dawn, was simply too distracted with her own life to pay much attention to Lucy. And, at the moment, her mom’s life revolved around Bill. This wasn’t her first boyfriend, of course; her mom had dated many men since leaving Lucy’s father five years ago. Some of them lasted awhile. David lasted one year, and he got along with Lucy. He recommended books and movies, he was an intellectual, and Lucy would have loved for her mom to settle down with him. David was weak, though, like Lucy’s dad was before him, and a stronger man pulled her mom away. And that affair lasted about two weeks, much more in line with her mom’s average relationship length. Which was a good thing because when her mom was dating, Lucy found it insufferable. Lucy would have to spend her time out at the library, at the park, at a diner, or at school. Just stay out of the house for a while, she was repeatedly told. And when she was home, she’d spend all of her time alone in her room.

  Bill moved in by spring. Late winter had been a series of odd interactions and judgments passed between Bill and Lucy, comments on wardrobe, or choice of activities, the occasional backhanded compliment. Once Bill had moved in, though, he felt it was his right to dictate what Lucy did, and that did not sit well with her.

  The first was mandatory church on Sundays. Lucy had no problems with Bill going to church, and she didn’t even tell him that her mom had never attended a day of church in her life before him; that was their business. But now he was insisting she go because There is a lot you can learn there, and A little God never did anyone no harm. And then there were the sweet things he did for her, like picking out nice sunny little dresses and clothes a proper lady would wear. Her mom actually thought this was sweet. You look like a whore is what he said when Dawn wasn’t around. No, there wasn’t a sweet thing about him. He was ma
nipulative, condescending, and controlling.

  In June, Lucy met Ian.

  She’d decided, with her friend Tess, to go into the city to a party half her class was attending. Not that she liked parties, or even wanted to go, but this was a good chance to show Bill who was boss. The party itself was awful. Lucy sat in silence while Tess and everyone else one-upped one another on how cool and grown-up they were because they could drink beer.

  “So what’s your deal? Why are you so quiet?” Ian had asked her as she sat at the bottom of the living room stairs. “I always see you around, but you never say anything.” Lucy laughed because she didn’t know what to say and because she was a dork and hated social situations, but she knew Ian could be a good thing, so she let him do his little sweet-talking thing. Ian and Lucy grew close very fast.

  That night was the first time Bill tried to “ground” Lucy, which she laughed at, stumbling home at three in the morning. Bill grew irate and called in her mom, and she took Bill’s side. No more trips to the city was the punishment they’d decided on.

  Lucy continued to see Ian. He was large and loud and aggressive. He was a football player—not at all the type of person Lucy had pictured herself with. He was good-looking, but not great-looking. Lucy was socially nonexistent and she knew she might not be anything more than sex for Ian, but he got her out of the house. When she wasn’t there, she wasn’t a problem. Her mom barely noticed anyway. Bill was Dawn’s family now; Lucy was just boarding.

  As the relationship went on, Ian did develop feelings for Lucy, strong ones, and even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, she at least felt somewhat safe around him. She stopped seeing people or going to the library; she dropped off the face of the earth. She came home late, preferably when her mom and Bill had gone to bed already. She was grounded a lot and ignored her punishments as frequently. And as she became ingrained with Ian’s crew, she smoked and she drank. She drank a lot, actually. Why did no one tell me there was a drink that made Bill just go away? she thought. This was all very interesting to Lucy. She found that with just the right amount of smoke and drink, all the songs she listened to were about her. And TV actors became her friends. Everyone was her friend.