I&#39ll Be There

by Holly Goldberg Sloan

  Emily realised, as she stepped out of the shower, that she’d had an okay day. The first one in a long, long, long time.

  And then she realised that part of what had made it so nice was that she hadn’t had the endless stream of texts and phone calls from Bobby Ellis.

  It was the first day since April that she could inhale without feeling his hot breath only inches away. She’d let the prom king have his day but make sure he realised that they would never be more than just friends.

  Lots of girls liked Bobby Ellis. What did he see in her, anyway? She wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. With anyone.

  When she explained it all to him she knew she wouldn’t have to worry about being convincing.

  Debbie and Riddle were making good time. Traffic was light on the interstate, and Debbie estimated they’d get home at ten that night. Riddle hadn’t once shut his eyes. He simply stared out the front windshield, his new inhaler clutched in his left hand, afraid that if he fell asleep, he’d wake up in a rock pile somewhere in Utah, only to discover he’d been dreaming.

  After three hours, they stopped and had pepperoni pizza and lemonades at a place right off the highway. It wasn’t the kind of healthy food Debbie would normally seek out, but they ate with a lot of enthusiasm, finishing a large pizza between them. When they were done, Riddle carefully folded up the paper place setting decorated with a map of Italy. He put it into his pocket for safekeeping along with two packets of sugar.

  Back in the car, Debbie gave him the banana cake with the buttercream frosting that she had brought the day before from home. Riddle unfolded the paper place mat and put it on his lap while he ate.

  Then Debbie tuned on the radio, and right away Riddle started humming. Debbie was surprised, because Riddle knew the words and the tune. She turned up the volume, and they were suddenly both singing.

  I’ll reach out my hand to you,

  I’ll have faith in all you do,

  Just call my name and I’ll be there.

  I’ll be there to comfort you

  Build my world of dreams around you

  I’m so glad that I found you.

  I’ll be there with a love that’s strong

  I’ll be your strength, I’ll keep holding on.

  By the time the song was coming to an end, they were both wailing the lyrics. It took all the lung power he had, but Riddle was not to be stopped. He’d never sung before in front of anyone except Sam, but his voice was startlingly clear and even.

  When the song was over, he used his inhaler twice and found he could breathe with ease. Riddle looked over at Debbie and he exhaled.

  Yes, for the first time in a long time, he could breathe.

  The Greyhound bus was equipped with a sound system, and it was up to the driver’s discretion if he wanted to turn it on. Most people these days had their own music to listen to, but there weren’t many people on the bus, and it was illegal for the driver to wear his own audio headset, so now he flipped on the satellite surround system to a channel devoted exclusively to Motown music. That worked for him.

  ‘I’ll Be There’ came on, and the riders, ranging in age from an eleven-year-old girl travelling with her aunt to an eighty-nine-year-old man sitting up front doing crossword puzzles, all found themselves silently mouthing the words.

  In the last seat in the far back, Sam’s eyes opened. As far as he was concerned, the song was being sung to him.

  Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter

  Togetherness, well that’s all I’m after

  Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.

  Bobby’s mother called Rory and explained that Bobby and Emily wouldn’t be there for the photos and would meet up with everyone at the prom. They’d miss the limo ride with all the other couples.

  It took a full five minutes just to get his tuxedo trousers on. Bending his leg was painful, and at this point Bobby seemed to be made of glass. His stitches were in his left leg, but he kept complaining to his parents about pain in his right foot. He wouldn’t know for a week that he’d broken a toe when he kicked in the wall in the bathroom at Arby’s.

  By the time Bobby was out the door, he was forty-five minutes late to pick up Emily. He didn’t have a corsage. And he still had the starchy smell with the patented cucumber and melon scent overlay from the tanning spray.

  But the prom king was ready.

  Emily spent the extra time in her room listening to music and putting things away. Lately the place had gotten out of hand. She had stacks of books and papers and clothing everywhere.

  Emily had been surprised when she got a call from Bobby’s father telling her about the stolen car. Bobby loved that SUV. She hoped that someone would catch the thief.

  At six forty-five p.m. she came downstairs. Even ten-year-old Jared, who didn’t seem to ever notice much about the physical world, said, ‘You look like a princess.’

  Emily didn’t want to be mean, but she couldn’t help saying, ‘I’m wearing black. Princesses never do that.’

  Jared thought about this and answered, ‘Don’t princesses go to funerals?’

  Emily started to laugh.

  And then her father appeared. He stopped abruptly when he saw her. ‘Wow.’

  Jared piped up, ‘She’s going to a royal funeral.’

  Tim made a face. ‘Jared, what on earth are you talking about?’

  Emily was now really laughing.

  Her father realised that he hadn’t seen that in a long, long while.

  Jared held his ground. ‘I thought Bobby was the king.’

  Now it was Tim who corrected Jared. ‘They are not going to a funeral.’

  Jared shrugged.

  And Emily, smiling, put her arm around her brother, saying, ‘If you only knew . . .’

  Tim Bell then took a few photos of his son and daughter, thinking to himself that his shots from now on would be of three kids. Life took unexpected turns, that was for certain.

  His wife had always wanted more children and, somehow, her wish had come true.

  Jared, suddenly feeling left out, asked his father if they could forget the leftover chilli and go eat Chinese food. And as the doorbell rang, Tim agreed.

  Debbie and Riddle wouldn’t be home until ten at the earliest. He and Jared would do something special together before a lot of change took place.

  41

  Bobby’s parents had to drive them to the Mountain Basin Inn. It was like they were in the sixth grade. But the group limo had left, and now it was just a question of getting them there on time. If you weren’t inside the ballroom by seven o’clock, you weren’t allowed in at all.

  Since Bobby hadn’t been able to pick up the corsage his mother had ordered, he insisted that Emily wear the boutonniere she’d made for him. He didn’t say that the fact that it was orange made his skin crawl.

  Earlier in the evening Bobby’s father had called the police station to report the stolen SUV and that was when he’d discovered that the car had been towed. But Bobby was going to stick to his story for tonight. And his parents had agreed to back him up on that.

  As far as Bobby was concerned, Emily looked good but not in a sexy way, which was really too bad. Instead, she looked sophisticated, almost foreign, and her dress wasn’t strapless or a halterneck or sort of see-through, which was disappointing. She looked like something in a glossy magazine. And that was sort of sneaky of her.

  He was going to be honest with himself. If he had a choice between him looking hot and her looking hot, he’d have picked himself. It was just the truth. He was the one who was the king. She was just a subject. Or a student. Or whatever everyone else was. And she just had never been into the whole thing to begin with.

  But Bobby could see, despite the way she looked, that as soon as she got into the car, Emily was somewhere else. He really needed her to be needy. He stared out the window wondering if there was a way to tell her that.

  When they arrived at the Mountain Basin Inn, Bobby took a deep breath and assure
d himself as they got out of his father’s car that the nightmare that had been his day was officially over. Now the good times would roll. And then he heard a voice call out, ‘Booby?’

  The voice was louder now. ‘Booby, how are you doing?’

  Emily turned to look, and now Bobby didn’t have a choice. He glanced over his shoulder to see Olga, dressed in her spa uniform. ‘How is your arm, Booby?’

  Bobby mumbled, ‘Fine.’

  But Olga was a licensed cosmetologist. In two countries. Her eyes widened when she saw his face. ‘Oh dear mother of Gods, what is wrong with your skins?’

  Bobby did not answer. And Emily wondered two things, how come this woman knew him, and why was Bobby being so mean to her?

  Olga continued, ‘You come see me tomorrow. You still have credits for your first session from the accident.’

  And then Olga reached over and touched Emily’s arm, saying in a low voice, ‘I never have anyone fall out of the facial chair before. Never.’

  Once they were inside the hotel and had turned down the corridor towards the ballroom, Bobby told Emily that he’d never seen the woman in his life. Ever. It was a clear case of mistaken identity.

  From the look on Emily’s face, it was obvious that she realised he was a liar.

  Dinner didn’t go any better for Bobby.

  At their table, a waiter spilled a plate of lasagna on Courtney Kung’s back, and her dress was made of white silk. The accident made her cry. Emily tried to help wash off the sauce in the bathroom, but that made the dress see-through. Courtney wrapped a lace shawl around herself, but she was still weeping when she and Emily returned to the table, and Bobby couldn’t help but be angry that Courtney and her tears were wrecking the mood.

  Rory and Nora were arguing about something in nasty whispers, and finally Rory tried to turn things around by proposing a toast.

  Everyone raised their glasses and Rory said, ‘To the after-party, and to the Motel Six!’

  Emily knew that there was an after-party. There was always an after-party.

  But what about the Motel Six?

  Emily turned to Bobby. The dinner plates were still being cleared, but a few of the more rowdy kids were back to dancing. Bobby was now intently watching them as if he were a judge in a contest. Emily leaned closer to Bobby and said, ‘What’s going on at the Motel Six?’

  Bobby just decided to come out with it. ‘We all rented rooms. I’ve got one for you and me.’

  The music was loud, but not loud enough that she couldn’t hear what he’d said. ‘Why did you do that?’

  Trying to be as in control as was possible, given all his problems, Bobby said, ‘I called your father when you were in the bathroom and told him we were going from the after-party to a big breakfast at Ryan’s. I said we wouldn’t be home until the morning. But that was bull. Tonight’s the night, Emily.’

  Emily looked at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  She was honestly confused. He couldn’t be thinking what she thought he was thinking. He wasn’t that out of touch with reality.

  Or was he?

  Bobby’s hand was on her arm, and he squeezed it now. Too tight. Aggressively tight. He knew he shouldn’t do that, but he was frustrated with his orange face and his smashed car and his broken arm and his stitched-up knee and even his throbbing big toe. He was angry at everything that should have gone right but had gone wrong and ruined what was supposed to have been his perfect day.

  And then the president of the student body, Marylou Azoff, took the microphone from the small podium at the front of the room and called up the prom king and prom queen, and Bobby released his grip.

  Bobby didn’t even look at Emily as he got to his feet.

  He knew that he shouldn’t have held her like that. She bruised easily. But she should eat more bananas or something, because maybe she had a health problem.

  Bobby raised his one good arm over his head, pumped his fist, and with his back now to Emily shouted to the room, ‘Yeah, baby!’

  People laughed, and someone threw a lemon wedge in his direction.

  Harry Meledandri, the class techie who was standing in the shadows at a place along the far wall, then hit a switch, and a dozen laser lights went on. Coloured magenta and blue beams, like in a real disco or a sci-fi movie, now sliced the room.

  Most of the room cheered. And then two dry-ice machines, called Peasoupers, suddenly were unveiled. Solid carbon dioxide, heavier than air, was released onto the dance floor, where it made a blanket of soupy fog. The photographer sprang into action, snapping away at the prom king and the prom queen, and Bobby began to strike all kinds of ridiculous poses.

  Emily, now obscured from view by the lights and the fog and the general mayhem, took a pen from her small black bag that had been hanging on the back of her chair. She turned over the card with the printed menu that had been part of every place setting, which some of the girls were saving as mementos. She wrote, Bobby – I had to go home early. Have a good night. Emily.

  And then no one seemed to notice as she got to her feet and walked out of the Mountain Basin Inn ballroom.

  The sun had disappeared from the sky, but an afterglow of smoky orange was still on the horizon, and real night was still minutes away. If she’d had on shoes that were more comfortable, Emily would have just walked home. But there was a bus stop right in front of the hotel, and one of the big blue buses was shutting the door when she reached the sidewalk.

  She had a choice. She could try to catch it or wait for the next bus. She looked over her shoulder at the hotel. The idea of waiting was problematic. What if Bobby came looking for her?

  And so she slipped out of her shoes and took off in a run, reaching the bus just as it began to pull away from the kerb. Emily pounded on the glass, and the driver, surprised to see the seventeen-year-old girl in the black prom dress, hit the brakes.

  It was bright inside, and a dozen people watched with intrigue as Emily boarded. She was flushed from running, and her hair, which had been pulled back in a clip, now fell loose around her face. She carried her shoes and her handbag as she fumbled for the fare. She looked not like a runaway bride but maybe like someone who ran away from a funeral. She suddenly wished her little brother could have seen.

  As Emily headed to the back of the bus, she thought to herself that everyone had a story.

  Tonight she was just one of those people whose story was more interesting.

  They’d gone to Chang’s for dinner and had their favourites – sesame shrimp and lemon chicken. Jared’s fortune cookie had read, Expect a big surprise. Tim’s had read, A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

  Now home, Tim Bell let Jared stay up past his bedtime.

  It was Saturday night and he knew that Debbie and Riddle would be arriving soon, and he reasoned that it was better to explain things now than for Jared to find Riddle as a surprise in the morning.

  Emily was another matter.

  Normally Emily had a curfew of midnight, which she could extend until one o’clock with permission. But tonight was the prom and the after-party and then the breakfast. Bobby Ellis had explained over the phone that there would be a limo, and no one would be driving, and he’d keep her safe.

  So Tim Bell really had no idea when he’d see his daughter. He wasn’t used to keeping track of things like that. Details were Debbie’s domain. Now, with three kids, he imagined he’d find himself more in the thick of it. Kids were like farm animals. You had to keep your eye on them. And now he was going to have more to corral. Jared had asked, endlessly, for a brother. And now he was getting one.

  Tim Bell doubted that Jared ever imagined an older brother, but with Jared you just didn’t know.

  That might have been what he meant all along.

  Debbie pulled into the brick driveway, musing to herself that so much in life can change so fast. Everything really did need to be taken one day at a time. Riddle didn’t get out right away but sat motionless in the passenger’s seat
staring over at the house.

  Debbie had explained during the ride in her calm, matter-of-fact way that he’d be living with them. That this would be his house. But now, as he looked at it, she wondered if that had been the right thing to do. Maybe the best way would have been to ease him into his new situation.

  But it wasn’t like there was a handbook she could consult for all of this.

  Once he’d seen Debbie’s car pull off the street, Tim had turned to Jared, who was sitting on the floor looking at a book on frogs. He had a scheme that involved trying to catch a few down in the stagnant pond behind the golf course and bring them home, where he’d start a habitat and sell their tadpoles to other kids as pets.

  Tim said, ‘Your mom’s back.’

  Jared looked up from the frog book and smiled. ‘Good.’

  Then he went back to the tadpoles. Felix, on the other hand, was going crazy. Debbie was his favourite person in the world, so this was expected. But this was a different kind of going crazy, even for a wildly exuberant dog.

  And then the cats suddenly appeared. They looked like regular cats now, no longer skeletons of cats wearing fur suits. But they still always stuck together. And now the two cats jumped up onto the back of the sofa to get a better view of something happening outside.

  Tim shot the animals a look. Didn’t they say that pets could predict earthquakes? Maybe there was something to that. Tim looked out the window. He could see that Debbie and Riddle were still in the car. Maybe it wasn’t going well.

  Suddenly Tim decided he’d better give Jared some warning. ‘Jared, your mom brought someone back with her . . .’

  Jared looked from the frog book to the dog. ‘Felix is losing it.’

  Tim continued. ‘You remember Riddle . . .’

  He had Jared’s attention now. ‘He couldn’t swim. I’m going to learn to be a lifeguard. I already decided that.’

  Tim kept going. ‘Well, it turns out he didn’t die in the river like they told us.’

  Jared shut the frog book. ‘No one really told me what happened. What do you mean, he didn’t die?’

  ‘He survived. And he was found in Utah.’