Jeri burped in Marlee’s face. “See?” Jeri said to Christy. “She’s mad. I told you.” Christy guffawed loudly and steered Jeri toward the bathroom.
Marlee called after her drunken friend, “Jeri, we gotta go. I’ll be outside.” She yanked her coat off the hook by the front door and rushed out without looking back. She leaned against the split rail fence on the Lovelands’ front lawn and tried to figure out what to do.
Susie followed Marlee out the door and leaned against the fence next to her. “I’m sorry, Marlee. Christy brings out the worst in people sometimes. For some reason people are always trying to impress her. Jeri got caught in her web, it seems like.”
Marlee fought back confused and angry tears. She should have been ecstatic to have Susie all to herself, but she was too red hot to feel anything other than anger, confusion, and embarrassment.
Susie spoke with tenderness. “You guys will be all right. Tomorrow she won’t even remember what happened.”
Marlee wiped at her tears. She couldn’t look at Susie like this. She said, “What am I supposed to do? I’ve only got a learner’s permit and I’ve never driven that far in my life. And it’s dark. And how am I supposed to get home after I drop her off?”
Susie patted Marlee’s arm. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, Marlee. You’re gonna drive Jeri to your house, call her folks, and tell them Jeri is sleeping over. She can drive herself home in the morning. I’d drive you guys home, but I’m sure Jeri doesn’t want to leave her Mustang here.”
Marlee chanced a look at Susie for the first time since joining her at the fence. Susie caught Marlee’s gaze and held it. Marlee’s anger dissipated as she melted into Susie’s soft, sympathetic eyes. Without dropping her gaze, she grabbed one of Susie’s hands with both of hers and said, “Thank you. My dad died from a drunk driver...” Emotion closed her throat.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Marlee. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I feel really stupid here in front of all your friends. I wish this could have turned out differently.” Marlee’s hands trembled as she continued to hold onto Susie’s. She knew she should let go, but couldn’t figure out how to. She cleared her throat and broke the growing silence between them. “Thanks.”
Susie’s eyes softened again in sympathy for an instant, but then she stiffened and pulled her hand away. Marlee’s hands felt cold and abandoned.
“Uh,” Susie cleared her throat, “stay here. Let me go inside and see what’s happening with Jeri. I’ll get the keys.” She left Marlee alone on the fence.
Marlee hadn’t meant to act so boldly. She hadn’t meant to act at all. Oh, my God. She must think I’m a freak. I am a freak. She walked down the street toward the Mustang and prepared herself for a cold reaction when Susie returned.
Susie came back out of the house not only with Jeri’s keys, but also with Jeri herself. She helped Jeri “walk” to the car even though Jeri didn’t seem to have much control over her legs. Susie stayed the course and finally got Jeri into the passenger seat. Jeri became much more amenable once she was in the car and even allowed Susie to put the seatbelt on her. Jeri closed her eyes and sat quietly. Marlee thanked Susie again for her help, but Susie simply nodded without looking at her. Marlee swallowed as an awkward silence engulfed the two sober girls. Susie handed her the Mustang keys.
Marlee fought back tears. “I guess I have to do this, don’t I?”
“Yup. But, look.” Susie pulled a folded piece of paper from her back pocket. “Call me if you need me on your way home.”
Marlee’s hands shook as she took the paper. She didn’t trust her voice, but she managed to squeak out, “okay.” She hoped Susie couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart. She got in the car, somewhat reluctantly, and concentrated on putting the key in the ignition. She knew she was blushing furiously, but hoped Susie couldn’t tell in the darkness. Marlee was painfully aware of Susie leaning in the open window just inches away. She could almost feel the other girl’s body heat. Marlee turned the key and the sports car roared to life. She revved the engine a couple of times to cover her thunderous heartbeat. She glanced at Jeri and tried desperately to look composed as she turned back around toward Susie.
Her voice broke as she said, “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Susie smiled. She stood up, patted the driver’s side door twice, and backed away. “Call me
tomorrow.”
Chapter Four
The Phone Call
MARLEE BOUNDED DOWN the stairs and grabbed the box of Cheerios from the cupboard. Call me tomorrow. That’s what Susie said. Call me tomorrow. Those three words were more powerful than any other three words Marlee had ever heard in her life. She absently poured the cereal into a bowl.
The large eat-in kitchen in the McAllister home was one of the major selling points for Marlee’s parents when they bought the old farmhouse all those years ago when Marlee was a baby. Thirty acres of open fields accompanied the two-story house, situated on C.R. 62 that connected Clarksonville to East Valley. Her parents had wanted to cultivate the land someday, but her father’s untimely death had ended that dream.
After Marlee’s father died, the mother-daughter McAllister family managed fairly well. They struggled to make ends meet at first, but Marlee’s mother found work as an office assistant for the real estate agency, North Country Homes and Land. She then took some courses at Clarksonville County Community College and eventually worked her way up to selling agent. With her father’s life insurance and her mother’s job, the two had enough to keep them out of debt and relatively happy. Marlee’s mother would never be able to get Marlee a new car for graduation like Jeri’s parents had, but at least, according to Marlee’s mother, their minivan still had a few goods years left in it.
Marlee jumped when her mother spoke.
“Did Jeri sleep over last night?”
Marlee had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard her mother come down the stairs. She got up quickly to get milk from the refrigerator so she could avoid eye contact.
“Yeah, she was kinda tired last night so she crashed here.” Not exactly a lie.
Marlee poured her milk as her mother poured her coffee.
With one eyebrow cocked in judgment, Marlee’s mother asked, “I assume she’s still sleeping?” Marlee stirred her cereal as her mother stirred her coffee.
Marlee suddenly became riveted by the Cheerios box and didn’t look up. “Uh, yeah, Mom. She has to work at the restaurant today, so I’m sure she’ll be up any time now.”
“Where did she sleep?”
“Oh,” Marlee chuckled. “Well, Patches wasn’t happy, but she slept in Dad’s recliner in my room.” Patches, at the sound of her name, jumped up on the kitchen table and made her way to Marlee’s cereal bowl. “Kitty cat,” Marlee reprimanded, “no milk for you until I’m done.” She picked up the six-year-old mostly white calico and placed her gently back on the floor. Patches seemed to accept her fate and rubbed against Marlee’s calf.
“And so what are you going to do today?” her mother asked.
“I dunno, actually. Bobby and I are supposed to do something.”
“Okay, call me and let me know. And please make sure you straighten up your room and clean Patches’ litter box before you go out. And if you get a chance, maybe you can get started on the garage. I have to get to Racquette today to show an old rundown one-hundred-acre campground to some prospective buyers from New York City.”
“Cool,” Marlee said, still distracted by the cereal box.
“So...” her mother tapped on the kitchen table to get Marlee’s attention “I won’t be home until after dinner. Make spaghetti for yourself. There’s a jar of sauce in the pantry.”
“Okay.” Marlee looked up when she heard Jeri lumber down the stairs.
“Good morning, Jeri,” Marlee’s mother said.
Jeri looked pale, almost white. “Morning, Mrs. M.” She plopped into a chair next to Marlee at the kitchen
table. “Hey,” she said to Marlee.
Marlee nodded silently in her direction.
“Well, girls, I’ve got to get going if I’m going to get there. Marlee?”
Marlee looked up.
“Room, Patches, garage?”
Marlee nodded as her mother left the house loaded down with her real estate briefcase, commuter mug, and coat. “Bye, Mom.”
Once the door closed, Jeri laid her head on the table. “Ugh. I have such a headache. Girl, I am so sorry about last night. I think I remember you driving us home.” Jeri looked up and flashed her puppy dog eyes at Marlee. “Did we have a good time last night? Was the team as funny as Christy? Girl, she was so funny.”
Marlee didn’t answer. She got up and put her milky cereal bowl on the floor for Patches who darted to the bowl in a furry flash of white.
Jeri cleared her throat. “Uh, do you have any Tylenol, Advil, ice? I have such a headache.”
“Yeah, you said.” Marlee sounded uninterested. She reached into the cupboard above the kitchen sink and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. She filled a small glass with water and handed both to Jeri.
“Thanks. I was trying to keep up beer for beer with Christy last night. That was a huge mistake.” She downed the pain medication and looked up sheepishly. “Sorry you had to drive. Are we cool?”
Marlee took a serious moment before responding. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know, Jeri. You embarrassed me in front of all those people. Susie had to help me figure out what to do with you. I called your folks on the way home and told them you were staying at my house.”
“Oh, my God! My folks!” Jeri blew out a lung full of air in relief. “Thanks for calling them. I’m probably screwed. Who did you talk to?”
“Your dad.”
“Okay, good. My dad loves you. Maybe we got lucky. What did you tell him?”
“Nothing, really. Just that you were tired, staying over here, and you’d see them tomorrow. He reminded me that you were working today, too.”
Jeri laughed, “Yeah, sounds like Dad. You didn’t tell him...you know.”
“That you had a few ‘cold ones’ with Christy? No, I kind of left that part out.”
“Thank you. I hope we got away with it this time.”
“Jeri, how about there is no next time?” Marlee let the anger show in her voice. “You know, I was so nervous driving the whole way home last night. I mean, I’ve never driven in the dark before. I’ve never driven your car before. The only car I’ve ever driven is my mom’s van and that sits, like, twenty feet above the road. Yours, I don’t know, sits like a foot off the road.”
“I’m sorry.”
Marlee’s voice got louder. “I mean, c’mon, what if a cop had pulled me over? My mom will kill me if she finds out about this, Jeri. Please promise me you won’t do anything like this again.”
Jeri hung her head and nodded. “Again, Marlee, I’m sorry. And, no, this won’t happen ever again. I promise. Are we...am I,” she amended, “banned from East Valley?”
Marlee laughed and patted her friend’s hand. She couldn’t stay mad at Jeri. “Nah. Susie and I got you out of there before you did any real damage.”
“Thanks, Marlee. You’re the best. Listen, I’d better get going. I have to handle my parents. And, ugh, I can’t believe I have to work today, too.” Jeri looked at Marlee with a pathetic smile.
Marlee pulled the Mustang keys out of her jeans pocket and held them in the air. Jeri patted Marlee on the shoulder, grabbed the keys, and headed out the door.
Once she had the house to herself, Marlee took the coveted piece of paper from her shirt pocket and lightly traced Susie’s name with her index finger. She could almost feel the burn of Susie’s thigh against her own. The sensations confused her, but she liked them nonetheless. She refolded the paper carefully, put it back in her pocket, and went upstairs to her room to start the cleaning process.
She looked at the recliner. Jeri had folded the blanket Marlee had placed over her. Marlee put it back in the hall closet. Marlee’s room was, thankfully, at the top of the stairs so she didn’t have to guide a drunken Jeri past her mother’s room. Marlee had to be extra quiet, though, when she got the blanket from the hall closet right outside her mother’s room. Luckily, she had thought to let Jeri use the bathroom downstairs before they started the trek upstairs. Marlee couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t heard them. And she had missed her curfew by fifteen minutes. Yes, they had gotten lucky this time.
The phone rang, startling Marlee. Oh, my God, she panicked. It’s Susie. I’m not ready. What am I gonna say? Breathe. Breathe, she told herself. Just as quickly, she realized that Susie didn’t have her phone number. It couldn’t be her. She picked up the cordless phone on her bedside stand.
“Hello?”
“Marlee? It’s Lisa.”
“Lisa Brown, world’s greatest catcher.” She sighed in relief. “What’s up?” Marlee picked up her Clarksonville sweatshirt that had somehow landed on the floor during the night. She hung it on the hook on the back of her closet door and started creating order out of the chaos that was her room.
“That’s what I was going to ask you. Some of us from the team are going to the Roxy tonight. They finally changed the movie,” Lisa said. “And, we’ll probably get some ice cream at Stewart’s after.”
“Sounds like fun. But Bobby’s coming over and we’re...well, actually, I don’t know what we’re doing, but he’s coming over and we’re doing something. Sorry.” A night out with Lisa and their teammates sounded like fun. A pang of loss squeezed her heart. She missed her friends like crazy. Since she’d been going out with Bobby, she had put all of her friends on hold.
“Okay. That’s cool.” Lisa’s disappointment was obvious. “Just figured I’d try. Maybe next time, eh?”
“Maybe we can play catch tomorrow,” Marlee suggested. “I gotta work on my stride for that stupid rise ball. I’ll call you, okay?”
“All right. Cool. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. See ya.” Lisa’s voice had perked up.
As she organized her room, Marlee attempted to organize her thoughts about her impending phone call to Susie. Think, think. When should I call? And what should I say? She hoped talking to her on the phone would be as easy as it had been in person.
She looked at the clock. 10:00. Too early. How about 2:00? That sounded reasonable. Not too early, not lunch time, not dinnertime. Just right. But maybe 4:00 would be better. That way it wouldn’t quite be dinnertime, and if Susie had something to do that day, maybe she’d be done and back home by then. But, no, no, 2:00 was better, because maybe Susie was sick with worry about whether they got home in one piece. She smiled thinking about Susie worrying about her. No, no, 2:00. That’s my final offer. 2:00 it is.
Marlee groaned. What should have been a two-second decision took about fifteen minutes. But the four hours she had left should be plenty of time to think of something to say to Susie. She could think about it while she cleaned the garage, but she would definitely need to write the ideas down, just so she wouldn’t forget at a crucial moment.
Marlee made her bed and looked for her beat-up lawn-mowing turned garage-cleaning sneakers. She pulled on her Cougar sweatshirt and bounded down the stairs and out the kitchen door. The screen door slammed behind her. She got goose bumps from the chill in the air, but the sky made up for it with high puffy clouds lazily making their way across the brilliant blue. Marlee filled her lungs with the crisp air and then made her way to the garage. She flicked on the light switch and almost tripped over the old red push mower. She might as well get it ready for the next inevitable lawn-mowing season. How she wished she had a John Deere riding mower like Jeri’s family. Jeri’s dad let her ride it once, but after she had mowed the D’Amicos’ entire front lawn, she realized that Mr. D’Amico had tricked her into doing his chore. But she didn’t care. It had been fun.
Marlee didn’t know how Jeri was going to function at the restaurant. She looked terrible when she left.
When Bobby called, maybe she’d suggest a trip to the restaurant to see Jeri. Oh, but maybe not. Jeri might slip that she had a hangover. You don’t usually get hangovers researching calculus. And Jeri would probably be grounded by her parents after her no-show the night before anyway. Trying to keep track of the lies made Marlee very uneasy.
Marlee herself had never had a hangover. She thought about her father every day, and the drunk driver who had killed him. No, drinking was of absolutely no interest to her since alcohol could kill and take dads away from their kids.
Marlee unscrewed the mower’s gas cap and saw that the tank was near full. She choked the engine and pulled the starter rope as hard as she could. The engine sputtered, but didn’t catch. She tried a few more times, but couldn’t get the mower to catch. This was, after all, the first time she had tried to start the thing since the fall, so naturally it didn’t work. What would her dad do? She decided that he would not put the mower away and try to start it another day. No, he would probably clean the spark plug or something. Marlee removed the spark plug and remembered what her dad had said to look for. He had taught her all about spark plugs and choking the engine and sharpening the blade, even though her mother hadn’t been too keen on the idea.
The spark plug looked oily. She cleaned it off with a rag she kept in the two-car garage and then checked the gap with the spacer her dad kept on his workbench. My workbench, she thought solemnly. The unattached two-car garage, situated at the end of the long driveway, had become mostly Marlee’s domain. Her mother apparently wanted nothing to do with it other than to park the minivan on the left side. The other side had become Marlee’s work area.
She was about to give up when the mower finally roared to life in a puff of blue smoke. When she started to cough she realized she should have started the mower outside the garage and quickly cut the engine. She wheeled the mower outside and pulled the starter rope under the ancient oak tree near the garage. Her yank on the rope caused her to set the tire swing in motion. Her father had hung the old tire swing for her when she turned eight. The swing constantly reminded her of the short time she’d had with him. Beyond the tree, she and her father used to play catch. Marlee treasured the worn out spot where her Dad would catch for her. In fact, Marlee even put in an old pitcher’s rubber and a home plate Coach Spears had given her. She and Lisa sometimes practiced pitching there and Marlee always felt a little sad seeing Lisa stand where her dad used to.
Barbara L. Clanton - Out of Left Field Page 5
