by Amy Hatvany
When she got to the school, people poured out of the gym doors into the parking lot and Kelli scanned the crowd for Jason, knowing his dark head would be easily seen. She saw Nancy and beckoned her friend over.
“Oh my god!” she squealed. “Your parents let you come?”
“Not exactly,” Kelli said, then told Nancy what she had done.
“You are going to get in so much trouble,” Nancy observed, cracking the piece of gum she had in her mouth and fluffing her hot-rollered black curls.
Kelli sighed. “I don’t care. I’m sick of never getting to do anything.”
Nancy’s eyes got wide and she smiled, looking just over Kelli’s shoulder. “Hi, Jason,” she said, reaching over to pinch Kelli quickly on the arm.
“Hey,” Jason said, and Kelli whipped around to face him. “You missed the game,” he said.
“Yeah.” Kelli tried to sound nonchalant. “I had to hang out with my parents for a while.”
“That’s cool,” Jason said. “You want to go for a drive?”
“Sure,” Kelli said, her cheeks flushing from more than just her hurried walk to the school. She looked at Nancy. “I’ll call you later?”
Nancy nodded, and Kelli let Jason take her hand and lead her to his green truck. Jason Winkler is holding my hand! She straightened her spine and lifted her chin as they walked, hopeful she looked natural alongside him. She felt the eyes of the other students on them, and it made her feel important. She knew her parents would be furious with her, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was how Jason looked at her as he opened the truck door. Like he wanted her.
“What a gentleman,” she remarked with a playful lilt in her voice.
“I try,” Jason said, smiling. He shut her door and loped around the truck to the driver’s side.
“Where are we going?” Kelli asked as he started the engine.
“I know a spot where we can go to talk,” he said. “And get to know each other better.”
Kelli smiled and crossed her legs, tucking her hands between her thighs. Her muscles sparked with excitement—she was going to be Jason’s girlfriend, she just knew it. “Did we win the game?” she asked, remembering from Cosmo how much boys liked it when you asked them questions about their interests.
“Yep,” he said, pulling out of the school parking lot onto the main drive of town. “Seventy-four to sixty-two. I shot twenty of those points.”
“Wow,” Kelli said. “They’re lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Jason said. “Look at who’s riding in my truck tonight.”
Kelli flushed with pleasure and giggled. They were silent awhile, listening to the radio as Jason drove them off the main drag and out of town. A small panicky fire ignited in Kelli’s stomach. “I can’t stay out too late,” she said, keeping her voice light. “My parents don’t know where I am.”
Jason laughed. “You snuck out?”
“Sort of,” she said. She glanced out the window into the dark. “Where are we going, again?”
“Just a spot off the highway,” Jason said. “It’s quiet and a really cool place to look at the stars.”
“Okay,” Kelli said, but she looked at her watch. She’d left the church about an hour ago, which meant she had another hour before youth group was over and her parents realized she was gone.
“Chill,” Jason said. “I’ll get you home . . . eventually.” He chuckled, then signaled to pull off the highway onto an unmarked gravel road.
Kelli laughed too, but the sound tumbled out of her on a false note. Jason turned into a spot between two tall evergreen trees and shut down the engine and cut the headlights. Kelli could hear the bright chirp of crickets around them and the distant hoot of an owl. “Wow,” she said. “It’s really dark. We’re really in the woods.”
Jason stretched his right arm over the back of the bench seat. “Don’t worry. It’s my dad’s property. It’s totally safe.” He patted the spot next to him with his left hand. “Why don’t you scoot over here? I can keep you warm.”
Anticipation sparkled along Kelli’s skin as she did as he asked, leaning against him and letting his arm drop around her shoulders. His hand dangled over her right breast, his fingertips just barely brushed the edge of her sweater, and she felt her breath catch in her chest. He was definitely going to kiss her.
“I’m glad you came out tonight,” Jason said, pressing his mouth on her ear. His hot breath made her shiver, a reaction she didn’t understand. Why would heat give me the chills?
“Me too,” she said, snuggling a little closer to him. This is what love feels like, she decided. He wouldn’t have brought her here unless he was falling in love with her. He wouldn’t have sat next to her in class or asked her on a date. Maybe he’d had a crush on her as long as she had liked him. Maybe he went home and crawled into bed thinking of what it would be like to kiss her, too.
Bravely, she turned her head so they were looking at each other. Kiss me, she thought, and then he did, as though he had read her mind, putting his lips softly against hers. Her entire body began to vibrate and she felt like she might melt right there in his front seat. This was what her magazines talked about. This feeling, right here. Kelli never wanted it to end.
Jason set his left hand on the top of her thigh, moving it upward over her belly and onto her breast. He squeezed once, lightly, then again, harder. Kelli squirmed and pulled her mouth away from his. “Hey,” she said.
“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t help it. You’re so hot.” He kissed her again, pushing his tongue inside her mouth this time and rolling it around. Kelli put her hands on his chest and tried to get him to slow down. His hands were suddenly all over her, slipping under her sweater, pushing her bra out of the way. His fingers touched her bare skin and she was overcome by that melting feeling again. He took her hand and put it on the zipper of his jeans. She gasped at the shape of him—she knew this was supposed to happen. She knew that when a boy loved her enough, he would want her this much.
Jason groaned as he kissed her, pulling his hands away from her for a minute while he undid his jeans. “I want you so bad,” he said. “I love you.”
He loves me, Kelli thought as she slipped off her pants and lay down on the seat. Jason pulled down her underwear and pressed his body against hers. She gasped at the sharp pain as he entered her, gritting her teeth and trying not to cry as he pushed once, twice, then shuddered. It was over almost before it began and Kelli wondered if she’d done something wrong. But then Jason kissed her and she let herself believe all was well. He loves me, she thought again, and nothing else meant a thing.
Ava
“Ava, sweetie. I need you to come out here.” I heard my dad’s voice in the hallway outside of my room, and while I wanted to talk with him, a small part of me considered burrowing into my bed and hiding. Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be good.
He opened the door. “Ava? Did you hear me?” He walked over to the edge of my bed and put his hand on my back. “I need to talk to you and your brother, okay? Will you come to the living room with me?”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, rolling over to look at him. My voice felt like it was strung an octave higher than usual. I sound like Mama. “Just tell me.”
“I will, baby,” he said, and dropped his gaze to the floor. “But come out so I can tell your brother, too.”
Feeling like someone had poured lead in my body, I slowly climbed out of bed and walked with him into the living room, where Grace was sitting on the couch with Max. She was still in her work clothes—black slacks and a fancy-looking blue blouse—but she had taken her jacket and shoes off and her red hair was messy, like she’d just gotten out of bed, too.
“Grace,” my dad said. “Do you mind if I talk to the kids alone for a few minutes?”
Grace frowned and her eyebrows shot up, but only for a second before she rearranged her face to look like she wasn’t surprised. Then she nodded. “Sure. Okay. I’ll just be in
the den.” She stood and walked slowly into the other room, glancing back at my dad with worried lines scribbled across her forehead. I could tell she thought she should stay, but I was happy he made her go into the other room.
Dad sat down with us on the couch, in between Max and me. His skin looked gray.
“What’s going on?” I asked again. “Is Mom okay?” My blood pumped so hard through my veins, I felt dizzy.
He took a deep breath. “No, honey. She’s not.” My dad’s eyes filled with tears and I put my hand on my chest to help me stop breathing so fast. I’d never seen him cry before. His words came at me in slow motion—I fought the urge to push them back and clamp my hands over his mouth.
“She got sick,” my dad said, reaching out to hold one of each of our hands in his. “Really sick. So fast we didn’t even see it coming.”
“But she’s okay,” Max said quickly. “She’s in the hospital and the doctors will fix her and make her better. Right? ’Cause that’s their job.” The hopefulness in my brother’s voice reached in and squeezed my lungs until I thought they’d burst. Don’t say it. Please. Don’t say it. Please, please, please.
“I’m so sorry, Max, but they can’t fix her. They tried, but . . .” His voice trailed off a moment before he swallowed hard and almost whispered the words. “Your mommy died today.”
Max erupted off the couch and yanked away from his father’s touch. “You’re a liar!” he screeched. “My mom’s not dead!” His hands formed fists and the tendons in his neck extended tightly beneath his skin. Dad stood up, still holding my hand; I stared at the carpet, my shoulders shaking. He let go of me and reached for Max, but my brother cringed and leapt backward, as though Dad had tried to hit instead of hold him. Max sped down the hall toward his room, sobbing.
Tears began to stream down my cheeks. My whole body jittered; it felt like an electric current was shooting through it. I couldn’t speak. This isn’t happening. This is all just a horrible dream. I’m still lying in my bed, waiting for my dad to come home. I’m going to wake up, and this all won’t be true.
Dad looked at me, helpless, his eyes still glossed with tears. “Grace?” he called out, and she rushed in from the other room, stopping short when she saw me glare at her, then quickly look away. I didn’t want her anywhere near me. I wanted her to leave.
“Go,” she said to my dad, somehow knowing what had happened. She must have been listening from the den; she must have heard everything. It was a small house; it wouldn’t have been hard to do. “It’s okay.”
Max wailed in his bedroom, a high-pitched, keening cry that pierced through the walls. My dad bent down and touched my face, pushing my hair out of the way. “Ava, baby? I’m so sorry, honey. It’s so, so sad.”
I nodded briskly but didn’t look at him. “Is it okay if I go talk with your brother?” he asked me, and I nodded again. I didn’t know what else to do. “Grace will stay right here, if you need her. I’ll be right down the hall, and then I’ll come back.” He left, and I sat with Grace in silence for a few minutes. She knew Mama was dead when she picked us up. She knew and she didn’t say anything. I sniffled a little, then raised my eyes to hers.
“I don’t need you,” I said. “I have a mom.” My words were ice. Fury swelled inside my chest, trying to claw its way out up through my throat. Grace remained unmoving, with her hands in her lap. All the color drained from her face and she blinked, but her expression didn’t change. She didn’t frown, she didn’t twitch; she just sat still and spoke in a calm, measured tone.
“Of course you do,” she said. “I would never try to take her place. Never. But I can be here for you as a friend, if you want me—”
“Well, I don’t.” I stood up, arms stiff at my sides, fists clenched, tears still streaming down my face. “I hate you! I wish you were dead!”
Grace’s green eyes went wide. “Ava—” she began, but before she could continue, I spun around and ran to my room, slammed the door, and locked it tight behind me.
Grace
“I’m nervous,” I told Melody when Victor first suggested it was time for his kids to get to know me. We’d been dating about three months. “What if they hate me?”
“They’re not going to hate you,” Melody said, shaking her blond head and tucking her slender legs up beneath her on the couch. We sat in the living room of her Queen Anne Hill apartment overlooking downtown, sipping mojitos and munching on chips and the fresh fire-roasted salsa she had made for our weekly girls’ night in. “The best thing you can do is let Victor take the lead and not push yourself on them.”
“Push myself on them how?” I asked, reaching for another handful of chips to dig into the salsa. After cooking for my family when I was a teenager, I’d lost any interest or enjoyment in the task—Victor laughed when I told him my idea of meal preparation as an adult consisted of properly heating up a Lean Cuisine—but my best friend definitely prided herself on her culinary skills.
Melody screwed up her face a bit, thinking before she spoke. “You know. Like being way over the top, cheerleader-friendly with them. ‘Rah-rah, I’m your dad’s new girlfriend! Yay!’ ” She waved a couple of tortilla chips above her shoulders next to the sides of her head like they were pom-poms.
I laughed. “So, no back handsprings?”
She smiled and her dark brown eyes sparkled. “Exactly. Just be yourself. It’ll take time for them to warm up to you.”
She was right, I knew. But Victor hadn’t introduced any of the other women he had dated since the divorce to his children, so I felt a deep need to make a good impression. I thought about buying them gifts, the way I would bring a bottle of wine to a dinner party to show appreciation to the host, but I had no clue what they’d like.
“No bribes,” Melody instructed. “Kids can smell you trying to suck up to them a million miles away. Plus, it’ll piss off the ex-wife and you don’t want to do that, either.”
So, unarmed and a little scared, I arrived at Victor’s house on a Saturday morning in late October, ready to face the firing squad of his children. I walked up the front steps of his house, taking deep breaths before I knocked on the door. “I got it, Dad!” a little boy’s voice yelled from inside, and the door flung open. Max stood in front of me, his hand still on the doorknob. “Who are you?” he asked.
I gave him what I hoped was a friendly but not over-the-top kind of smile. “I’m your dad’s friend Grace. I’m going to the pumpkin patch with you guys today.” Didn’t Victor tell them I was coming? Maybe Max is just forgetful.
He stared at me for what felt like a full minute before speaking again. “You’re bigger than my mom,” he said, and then spun around and raced through the living room and into the den, where I could hear the loud racket of cartoons.
Wonderful. I wasn’t overweight by any means, though I was on the heavier side of normal according to my doctor’s charts. Exercise wasn’t high on my list of enjoyable activities, so I had a wide variety of Spanx to create the illusion of firm thighs and stomach, but overall, I felt pretty good about my body. Of course, I’d seen pictures of Kelli in Ava’s bedroom. She was barely over five feet tall and almost as thin as her daughter, with disproportionately large breasts. (Fake, I suspected, since rarely does a petite woman sport such a substantial rack naturally, but there was no way to know for sure.) I was secure enough in my looks to not feel terribly intimidated by her beauty; men often commented on the appealing combination of my bright green eyes and wavy auburn hair, and Victor told me I was gorgeous every day. But there was no doubt about it. As a woman, there was no way to take “bigger” as a compliment.
I stepped through the doorway and Victor appeared from the hallway. “Sorry,” he said with the sideways grin of his I loved. “He didn’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s okay. I get it.” I smiled and let him give me a quick kiss on the cheek. We’d agreed not to show any physical affection in front of the kids, but I fought the urge to throw myself into his arms and have him reassure me that
everything about this day would go well. I peered over his shoulder. “Where’s Ava?”
“Trying on a fifth outfit.” He rolled his eyes. “I told her, it’s a pumpkin patch, not a fashion show, but who am I to argue? You women change your clothes as often as you change your minds.”
Max ran back into the living room from the kitchen, hopping in place with his feet together and his arms ramrod straight at his sides. “Dad! It’s sunny! Can we play soccer before we go?” I smiled, thinking that Max was exactly as Victor had described him to me: “a jumping jack of a boy, with enough energy to power a small nation.”
Victor walked over to his son and dropped into a squatting position so they were face-to-face. Max stopped jumping. “I don’t think we have time, buddy,” he said. “It’s a little bit of a drive to Snohomish and we don’t want to wait too long. All the good pumpkins will be gone.”
“Mom already got us pumpkins at the grocery store.”
Victor threw a glance at me, then looked back to Max. “Well, this place doesn’t just have pumpkins. It has a petting zoo and arts and crafts and caramel apples. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“No,” Max said. “Can I bring my DS? I want to play Mario Kart.”
Victor sighed and stood back up. “In the car only.”
Ava chose this moment to emerge from her bedroom, entering the living room with slow, deliberate steps. She wore slim-fit jeans, a blue windbreaker, and knee-high green rubber boots.
“Hi, Ava,” I said brightly. “I’m Grace. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your dad has told me so much about you both.”
She made brief eye contact with me and gave a short nod of acknowledgment before walking over to her father and hugging him tightly, burying her face into his stomach. Victor leaned down and kissed her on top of her head, his lips landing on one of the fluorescent orange hair clips she wore.
