This was too much. It would be all right for her to call Steve an asshole, but not Parker. Now he was sulking, but Nina was sure there was something even bigger lurking underneath. Something really painful.
“I’m going to go,” she said quickly, reaching for her coat. She looked around at the many things he’d brought for her, unsure what to do with them. Taking them would seem greedy. Leaving them behind would be insulting. She compromised and grabbed the flowers. There was nothing he could do with them, at least. The rest—the food, the movies—he could keep all of that.
Her sudden movement startled him, and he stood up.
“No,” he said. “It’s fine.”
“I’m going, Park.”
“Let’s just watch the movie. It’s all good.”
She was already out of the aisle.
“Whatever.” His voice cracked a little. “He’s just going to do it again. I guess that’s what you want. Some dickhead who doesn’t even …”
“Just shut up, will you?” Nina was angry now. “You don’t know him. You have no idea what he’s like.”
“I could guess. Birks? Light on the showers? Does he use one of those crystals instead of deodorant? Oh, and cheats on you. Forgot cheats on you. You’re right. I can see the appeal.”
“He’s done more than you ever have. Sorry he doesn’t spend all his time screwing around online and messing with signs. What’s your big contribution? You don’t do anything.“
She didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. Steve had to be defended. And it was true, after all. Steve fought for things. Steve suffered. Steve bought vacuums and helped people and got scholarships and was mature. Parker was just a guy with a bag of DVDs and some ice cream, standing in the middle of the auditorium, looking like a kid who just lost his soccer ball.
More than that. Looking very hurt.
“I drove,” he mumbled.
“I’ll walk.”
“Neen …”
But Nina was already out the door.
Nina took a strange route home, weaving from street to street and cutting through parking lots so that the chances of Parker driving by and seeing her were minimized. She was SO absorbed in her evasive tactics that she was halfway home before she remembered that she had an important phone call to make.
Mel’s dad picked up the phone and seemed surprisingly happy to hear Nina’s voice.
“So, I heard the big news,” he said. It took Nina a moment to remember that there were other traumas going on tonight and Mel’s had a much greater explosive potential.
“Oh,” Nina said cautiously. “That’s good. That’s really good.”
“I wasn’t really surprised, though.”
“No?”
“I always had a feeling.”
“Really?”
“Always.”
Nina was floored. Mr. Forrest was the coolest dad ever and way more perceptive than she’d ever been. He’d always been a nice guy, but who knew the depth of his awareness and openness until now? At least one good thing had come out of today.
“I’m really happy to hear that,” Nina said, feeling her eyes tearing up a little again. “I wish Mel had told you sooner.”
“Well, I know now, and I think it’s great.”
“I knew you’d be fine with it,” Nina fibbed a bit. “And you know, there are lots of groups for parents in case you wanted to talk to some other people.”
“Groups? For parents?”
“Support groups and pride groups—I love my gay teenager, that kind of thing. Maybe you can go with Avery’s parents.”
The pause that followed was just slightly too long.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Wrong tone. Definitely the wrong tone.
“Is Mel there?” she asked quickly.
“Hold on….” Again his voice was too deep.
Nina swallowed her panic. Maybe everything was fine. Maybe she hadn’t just made the life-altering mistake she thought she had.
Mel sounded slightly guilty when she got on the phone and said hi.
“Just say yes or no,” Nina said quickly. “Did you tell your dad?”
“Um …”
“Say yes or no!”
“No.”
“Oh my God.”
“But I will,” Mel insisted. “I was going to, and then I just bailed. But I will. Definitely this week. Don’t be mad….”
“Is your dad still there?” Nina asked frantically. “Like, right there?”
“Yeah.”
“Move away,” Nina said, her panic growing. “Go in the other room.”
Nina could hear her walking along the hall by her staircase.
“I moved,” Mel said.
“What big news did your dad hear?”
“What?”
“He said he heard the big news.”
“About you and Stanford,” Mel replied after a moment. “I guess you probably haven’t spoken to him since you got in.”
Everything was spinning down, down, down….
“Okay,” she said slowly, “I think I just did something.”
“What?”
“I think I just outed you.”
Silence on Mel’s end.
“It sounded like you told him,” Nina added quickly. “It seemed like he knew.”
Still nothing.
“Mel?”
“I think I’d better go,” Mel said.
When Mel had hung up, Nina touched the buttons on her phone, tapping out Steve’s number without actually pushing hard enough to dial.
Mel set the phone down on her dresser. She could still hear the television coming from downstairs, which seemed like a good sign. Actually, she was ready to interpret anything as a good sign. She decided to spend the rest of the night in her room. If necessary, she would spend the rest of the week in her room.
Within about five minutes she heard a creak in the hall. The soft knock followed, and her dad cracked open the door to her room. He stood there in his white undershirt and jeans, looking lost. He didn’t offer up any small talk—no hi’s or what are you up to’s.
The phone started ringing. Neither of them moved for it.
“Nina said something on the phone just now,” he said.
He looked at all of her little decorative boxes and picture frames that sat on her bureau. He saw the shadow box collage that she had made of the Triangle when she was thirteen. Something about it seemed to disturb him. He shook his head and turned back to her.
“Do you want to tell me anything?” he asked.
Mel had hoped that when this moment came, she would declare herself proudly. But instead heaving sobs just came up, even though she wasn’t ashamed or sad. She clawed her fingers into her pillow and tried to speak.
He didn’t come any closer. He lingered where he was in the pocket of shadow between the hallway light and the muted glow of Mel’s blue-shaded bedside lamp.
“I’ll have to talk to your mom …” he mumbled.
“Okay.” Mel was still gulping back tears.
She wanted him to say something else. Anything would have been fine. He appeared to be searching for the words but then gave up on the effort, wished her a good night, and quietly closed the door.
40
When they were nine years old, Mel and Avery got in trouble. It was all because of Nina’s chicken pox.
That was their first separation from Nina—she was quarantined in her house for two weeks. Since neither Mel nor Avery had had chicken pox by that point, they didn’t quite understand what was happening to her. She was covered in red spots. She had a bad fever. She was sick enough to have earned an all-milk-shake-and-Jell-O diet. That had to be serious.
They were just old enough to be allowed to stay in the house alone by themselves, and one afternoon Mel’s mom went out for an hour. They took advantage of the time by looking through everything that was normally off-limits, like the contents of the top kitchen cabinets. It was there that Avery found the cake mix, and i
t was her idea to make a cake for Nina. Mel agreed, of course.
By the time Mel’s mom returned, the kitchen was tropically hot and there were two burned cake pieces in badly sizzled tins. There was smoke, spill, and general disaster. Mel’s mom did not take it well.
What Avery remembered most clearly was that there was something unbearably awful and embarrassing about getting yelled at by someone else’s parent. Avery could still remember standing there in Mel’s kitchen, tears streaming down her face, staring resolutely at the remnants of the cake mix box and the still-unopened container of frosting.
Soon after that, Mel’s mom went off to live with Jim Podd, and a little while later she had another baby girl. Avery wondered at the time if the events were connected—if Mel’s mom was so mad about the whole cake thing that she’d actually gone off and started a whole new family, complete with a new kid.
Nine years later and here they were again. The lesson seemed to be: when Nina went away for any extended period, shit hit the fan. The corollary was that Mel’s mom seemingly had the ability to call them both on the carpet. Nothing really ever changed in her life—things just got bigger, longer, and increasingly complicated.
Avery could see the confusion on her parents’ faces when they told her that Mrs. Podd had called and asked that they all meet at Mel’s house to discuss “something very important.” Avery pled ignorance, then got in her car and drove around the neighborhood in circles, chain-smoking all the while, until she was out of time.
When they arrived at the house, Mel’s mom answered the door—something that hadn’t happened in years. Mel was sitting in the living room, chin resting on her chest. After exchanging a few puzzled pleasantries, Avery’s parents asked why they were there.
“I thought it would be best if we all sat down and discussed this together,” Mel’s mother said. She hadn’t actually looked at Avery up until this point. She did now.
“What are we discussing?” Avery’s mom asked.
“A situation. Something that’s just come to our attention.”
“What kind of situation?” Avery’s dad asked.
Mel’s mom fixed her blouse for a good two minutes while her dad looked down at the floor.
“Avery and Melanie have been …”
Mel’s mom stopped and looked at the heavy green winter curtains, which didn’t quite match the slightly different green of the rug. The clash genuinely seemed to disturb her.
“Have been what?” Avery’s mother asked.
“More than friends.”
She seemed to hate these words even more than the curtains. She didn’t say them in any kind of evil, Cruella De Vil voice, but Avery could feel her disgust.
“Is this true?” Avery’s mother asked.
“We’re not dating,” Avery said in a low voice. That was true, at least.
“Then why did Nina say that we would all want to join a group for parents of gay teenagers?” Mel’s mother asked.
Avery had no idea when or why Nina would have said that. It didn’t even matter now.
“Look,” Avery’s mom said slowly. “We know these are two good girls. And if they’re gay—”
“I’m not gay,” Avery cut in.
“They have to be comfortable admitting that to us.”
“But I’m not.”
“Because they are still our daughters.” Mrs. Dekker patted Avery’s shoulder. Avery rolled her eyes to the ceiling in despair.
“If that’s how you want to raise Avery, fine,” Mel’s mother said. “But I don’t want this for Mel. When she’s older, she’ll regret all the things she could have had—a husband, kids. She’ll see that people treat her differently, and she won’t like it.”
“I think if our daughters are discovering their sexuality, we should at least listen to what they have to say.”
“Discovering their …” Mel’s mother huffed. “I don’t think you’re dealing with reality here.”
“I’m not discovering anything,” Avery said.
“She’s really not,” Mel added.
“She’s not?” Avery’s mom said. “You’re not?”
She almost seemed disappointed—nearly as disappointed as Avery was that her resolutely normal mother was all too ready to accept her as a lesbian. No fuss, no look of shock or dismay. It was profoundly irritating.
“Then what is this about?” Avery’s mother asked.
Again everyone turned to Mel, but Mel was staring into the cover of the TV Guide as if it held great meaning. Mel held the key to this whole discussion now It was up to her how it was going to go.
“Nina made a mistake,” Mel said. “Avery’s not gay. I am.”
The silence that-greeted this announcement was the kind of silence that usually thrilled Avery—it was that loaded half-note pause before the devastating final chord, the time between the squeal of the tires and the sound of the impact. It wasn’t pleasant now.
“But you’ve dated boys before,” Mel’s mom said.
Mel shrugged.
“How could you date boys if you’re gay?”
“I didn’t really date any.”
“Yes, you did,” her mother said, a little more urgently. “There were a few.”
“For a few days. I never really dated them.”
“This is not as simple as you think,” Mel’s mother spat. “Don’t you understand that what you do is a reflection on us?”
“I can’t help what I am.”
“You are my little girl.”
“I’m still a girl.” Mel said it very quietly.
With Avery in the clear, the Dekkers were just bystanders now, watching another family’s trauma unfold in front of them. Mr. Dekker swung his arms wide, as if he was trying to get a group hug going. Nobody paid much attention to this, so he put them down again.
“I just don’t understand,” Mel’s dad said. He spoke quietly. He seemed so genuinely sad that no one spoke for a moment.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Mel said. She looked up at her father now, trying to reassure him.
“It’s not okay.” This brought Mel’s mother out of her short silence. “I’m not going to support this kind of lifestyle. Neither is your father, and neither is Jim. Don’t expect us to pay for your college or for your living expenses. If this is how you’re going to be, then you’d better be prepared for some reality, little girl.”
“Just stop,” her father said. “You’ve said enough. Be quiet.”
“I will not be quiet. Mel is my daughter as well….”
“I don’t like your threats.”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a fact. After she’s eighteen, we’re under no legal obligation to provide anything. Let her find her own place to live. Let her try to find a job. Let her see what the world is really like.”
This direct assault on Mel stirred something in Avery, especially after Mel had just spared her. After what Avery had done, the logical thing for Mel would have been to take Avery down with her. But Mel didn’t do that. Because they were friends.
Avery felt a heat in her chest. Words were rising in her throat.
“You can’t be serious,” she said. “What’s reality, dumping your family and ignoring problems that are right under your nose?”
“Avery!” her mother snapped.
“Brendan is a hacker,” Avery continued. “You talk about it like it’s a major accomplishment. Richie needs medication, like, now. And you’re worried about Mel being gay?“
“That’s enough, Avery” her mother said firmly.
“It’s true,” Avery said. “Brendan hacks into sites and takes people’s personal information. He is a criminal. They know it. They talk about it—how he’s going to get some job with a company that hires hackers to help their security. He has a padlock on his door.”
“Okay, Avery …” Her mother was serious now. “You’re finished.”
“This is not about Brendan,” Mel’s mother said coldly.
“Are you saying being a criminal is better than
being gay?” Avery turned back to Mel’s mom. “Are you really that dumb?”
This was a terrifying yet oddly liberating experience. Avery had never had a true smackdown with an adult before (well, at least one who wasn’t a customer), and the adrenaline was rushing through her system. But before she could push this any further, Mel stood up and politely excused herself. There was something strange about the way she was walking—it was a slow, straight gait, like she was making her way through shallow water with something balanced on her head.
Without waiting for permission, Avery bolted from the sofa.
Outside, the night sky was a light pink—a bright warning of snow. Mel was sitting in the middle of the lawn, gazing up at it. Avery walked over and stood by her.
“It shouldn’t snow in March,” Avery said. “It just seems wrong.”
Mel just kept looking at the sky. Avery took a seat next to Mel on the ground.
“Why did you let me off the hook like that?” Avery asked.
Mel turned to Avery and gave her a quizzical look.
“I just told the truth,” she said.
“We did date, though.”
“I know.”
“So you could have told them.”
“What for?” Mel shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”
“Why not? You have to.”
“Because for me it’s permanent. Besides, you said a lot of stuff I’ve always wanted to say. You stuck up for me too. You totally went after my mom.”
“Yeah.” Avery nodded. “That was actually kind of fun.”
Mel smiled a little.
“I’ll bet there’s a really interesting conversation going on in there,” Avery said.
“Go listen.”
“That’s okay.”
Instead they stared up at the sky. It seemed to hang low and close. It reminded Avery of when they used to make forts out of blankets or sheets.
“Tell me something good,” Mel said. Her voice had a dreamy lilt to it. “What’s going on with your music stuff?”
“I have an audition Sunday morning at nine. I’m taking the bus down to New York on Saturday.”
Mel turned and looked at Avery.
“That’s great. What do you have to do?”
“Play a bunch of pieces. I have some kind of written test afterward at noon. Then I have to sit around until four to see if they want me to play again.”
The Bermudez Triangle Page 23
