by Tara Sivec
Her anger immediately dies and she crumbles right in front of me. I fly forward and catch her in my arms before she hits the sand, pulling her close and wrapping my arms around her while she sobs into my shoulder.
I hug her tightly to me and rock us gently back and forth, trying to soothe her cries.
She feels so good in my arms that for a second, I almost forget her mother just died and she wants to leave the island, that she wants to leave ME behind. Her floral scent wraps around me and she slides her arms around my waist, making my heart skip a beat. I run my hand down the back of her head, finding her hair just as soft as I thought it would be.
“You are MORE than enough, Bevy. You are beautiful and smart, funny and courageous. Don’t you ever think for one second that there is anything wrong with you,” I tell her as I hug her even tighter. “You are loved, Bevy. You are loved so much.”
She cries harder and I tell her I’ll do anything to make it better. I promise her we can go anywhere and do anything she wants. I tell her that no matter what, I will always be here for her. I will never leave her like her brother and her mother and I mean it with everything inside of me. Wherever Beverly O’Byrne goes, I will follow.
I feel my heart beating in tune with Bevy’s as our chests press tightly together and we continue holding onto each other as the sun sets over the horizon and her tears finally subside.
I refuse to let go of her, even though she’s not crying anymore, and I think about a line in a movie Bevy dragged me to a few months ago. Something about how your heart beats for another person. I remember Bevy punching me in the arm and shushing me as I laughed over the actor’s words, but in this moment, they make perfect sense and I absolutely understand the sentiment. I feel like my heart is only beating now because of the girl in my arms and I wonder if this is what love feels like.
Chapter 8
Mrs. O’Byrne woke up on March 19, 1951 and decided she could no longer take the grief of living without her son. After ten long years, she’d had enough. When Mr. O’Byrne left for work and Bevy headed to school, she loaded Mr. O’Byrne’s Smith and Wesson .38 Special, put it in her mouth and pulled the trigger.
Bevy, true to her word, wanted away from Fisher’s Island and would have done anything to make it happen, including sneaking out of her bedroom window one Friday night, taking the ferry to the mainland and singing at the Uptown Lounge. She knew how I felt about that place and her singing there and thought it best not to include me in her plans. Since Billy was in on her little adventure and even accompanied her so she wouldn’t be alone, I refused to speak to either one of them for weeks after I found out. I tried to tell myself that I was only angry because Bevy could have been hurt in that seedy joint, but to be honest, I was jealous. Jealous because, for the first time in our lives, she’d kept something from me. She didn’t trust me with her secret and it killed me. I turned into such an asshole, I’m surprised Bevy never punched me in the face.
I wasn’t able to ignore my best friend for long, but that didn’t mean things between us weren’t completely different. For the next year, the teasing of our younger years was back in full force. I picked on her whenever I could, and looking back now, I did a lot of things with the intention of making HER jealous. Of course, it all came back to bite me in the ass in the end. I was angry at Bevy for her constant chatter about how she couldn’t wait to leave the island and I was angry that my feelings for her were changing and she didn’t even seem to notice. Every day I spent with her for the next year, I made fun of stupid, little things, when all I really wanted to do was tell her that I thought I was falling in love with her.
“Your hair looks really dumb like that.”
It’s shiny and beautiful and I want to run my fingers through it.
“You’re wearing THAT just to go for a walk? You look ridiculous.”
You should wear blue dresses all the time because they make your eyes sparkle and you look beautiful in them.
“Uuugggh, fine, take my hand. I guess I can help you up the rocks.”
Hold my hand forever and never let go.
Flipping to the next page in the album, I smile down at the picture of Bevy looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her. She’s smiling brightly at the camera and I look like a schmuck as I stare at her. It really is a great picture, but I remember hating my mother when she had it developed and couldn’t stop laughing. She handed it to me and said “This, right here, is where I think you finally saw what has been right in front of you this entire time.”
Little did my mother know, I’d seen it a while ago, but that moment is where it finally occurred to me just what I was looking at – my future.
Chapter 9
May 1952
Leaning against my car with my arms crossed, I try not to make it too obvious that I’ve been staring at Bevy since she walked out of school and started talking with a group of her friends a few feet away. I give her a ride home from school whenever I get out of the bank early and the best part of my day is standing here in front of the school and watching her before she sees me. I can’t help but be mesmerized by Bevy with her head thrown back in laughter, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.
Her pretty hair is pulled up into a ponytail and I watch as she tucks a stray piece of her long bangs behind one ear, an unconscious move that I’ve seen her do a thousand times over the years, but one I’ve secretly become enamored with lately. The sound of her laughter surrounds me and Billy smacks me on the back before she notices that I’m staring at her like a lovesick fool.
“Did you pick me up from the ferry just so I could watch you moon all over Bevy?”
I clear my throat and look away from her, studying a very interesting rock down by my feet.
“Shut up or I’ll make you walk home,” I warn him.
It’s Bevy’s senior year of high school, and there’s only a handful of weeks left until graduation and one week until her senior prom. Every day I pick her up from school, I hold my breath and wait to hear her tell me that some jerk has asked her to the dance. As much as I want to ask Bevy to go with me, it just wouldn’t be right. I graduated two years ago. How silly would I look going to a high school dance? Age difference notwithstanding, I’ve been a complete jerk to her lately and she’d probably laugh in my face. Instead of telling her how I feel, I’ve done the exact opposite and made it seem like I don’t care about her at all.
I want to laugh at myself for even entertaining the idea of asking her to prom. I’ve been dating Kathy off and on for a year now, but I’d never asked her to go steady and I heard she went on a date with someone else last week. It must not have gone well, because she was certainly hinting around my asking her back out when I ran into her in town yesterday. I like Kathy well enough, she’s a nice girl and okay to hang out with, but I can’t see myself spending the rest of my life with her. There’s only one girl I could imagine playing that big of a role in my future and she’s standing a few feet away. That thought has grown so big over the last year, I’m surprised I’m able to think about anything else.
Since Mrs. O’Bryne’s death, Bevy has been focused on singing and consumed by thoughts of becoming a big star. It’s all she ever talks about, and I know if I don’t make my move soon, she’s really going to leave and I might never see her again. With graduation so close, it’s only a matter of time before she takes off. I can’t let her do that without letting her know how I feel.
“Will you just quit being an idiot and ask her out already?” Billy says loudly, making me jump and stare at him in shock.
“What? What are you talking about? Ask who what?” I reply, pulling my car keys out of my pocket and fiddling with them.
“Oh, give it a rest, Trip!” Billy says with a laugh. “You might be able to hide it from her, but you can’t hide it from me. I see the way you’re always staring at Bevy, smiling like an idiot when she says something nice to you and going out of your way to pretend like you don’t care.”
I try no
t to blush and roll my eyes at him instead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Billy continues laughing and shakes his head at me.
“If you say one word to her, I’ll never speak to you again,” I threaten.
Billy holds his hands up in surrender. “Jeez, I promise, I promise. “Prom is only a week away. If you want to take Bevy, you better hurry up and ask before some other guy beats you to it and steals her away.”
“Bevy isn’t going to go to the dance,” I scoff, trying really hard to make myself believe what I’m saying. “She hates dances and besides, no one has asked her yet.”
“I heard Bob Miller is going to ask her.”
My eyes widen and my mouth drops open in shock. Bob Miller is a jerk. He was a jerk when Billy and I were in school and word around town is that he’s gotten worse. He goes out with a new girl every week and there’s talk that he likes to take them parking in his car. As soon as he gets some time alone with them, he dumps them and moves on to the next girl. I’m not going to allow my Bevy to become one of his “girls.”
Just then, Bevy says goodbye to her friends and bounces over to us, her long hair swishing back and forth behind her head as she stops in front of me.
“I hate Mrs. Goran. I swear she calls on me every time I don’t know an answer. It’s like she’s a mind reader and does it on purpose. If I don’t study for the Chemistry test tomorrow, I’m going to be in big trouble,” she rambles as I stare over her shoulder and see Bob Miller headed this way.
Bevy waves her hand in front of my face to get my attention. “Hello? Earth to Trip.”
Bob is walking faster and my stomach suddenly plummets to my feet. It’s now or never.
“Listen, Bevy, I think…maybe we should…you know next week….I was just thinking…”
Billy snickers next to me and I punch him in the arm without taking my eyes off of Bevy. She’s patiently waiting for me to stop stuttering and make some actual sense, but I can’t get the words out.
“Yes?” she asks softly, taking a step towards me.
She’s so pretty that my mind goes blank. This is Bevy. MY Bevy. Why is it so hard to just ask her? Ask her if she wants to go on a date. Shit, just ask her to prom! Who cares if I’m twenty years old and going back to high school, at least I’ll be with Bevy. Just say it already!
“Hey, Beverly! Do you have a second?”
Bob comes up next to us and Bevy slowly looks away from me. I want to grab onto her face and pull her gaze back to mine. Why is she looking at stupid Bob Miller?
“Oh, hey, Bob,” Bevy greets him with a smile.
I want to punch my fist into the passenger window of my car when she smiles at him. She shouldn’t be allowed to smile at anyone but me. I feel like a giant child, but I can’t help it.
“How about you go with me to the prom next week?” Bob asks her casually, leaning his shoulder against the side of MY car and sliding his hands into the front pocket of his jeans.
Not only do I want to punch the window, I want to punch that smug smirk right off of Bob’s face. He’s standing there thinking Bevy is going to jump at the chance to go anywhere with him.
Bevy looks back over her shoulder at me expectantly, like she’s waiting for me to say something. What the hell am I supposed to say? Don’t go with Bob Miller because he’s a jerk? You should go with me because I’m in love with you?
Instead, I chicken out and pick option three, giving her a shrug because I honestly think she’s going to laugh in Bob’s face. I watch as Bevy’s face falls and she turns back to look at Bob, giving him a shrug of her own.
“Um, sure, I guess. That would be nice,” Bevy tells him.
“Yikes,” Billy mumbles next to me.
I listen to Bob and Bevy make plans, staring with my mouth wide open at the exchange going on right in front of me, suddenly feeling like the ham sandwich I had for lunch is going to come up all over my shoes.
When Bob finally walks away, giving me a wave and telling me we should catch up sometime, I shoot him a dirty look and don’t say a word. I can’t believe this just happened.
After Bob disappears into the crowd of students in the parking lot, Bevy turns towards me and I’m surprised I don’t see a huge smile on her face after landing a date to prom with the most popular guy in school.
“You are NOT going to the dance with Bob Miller!” I tell her.
Bevy puts her hands on her hips and glares at me.
“You can’t tell me what to do! Bob is a very nice guy and at least he asked!”
It’s almost like she wanted me to be the one who asked her, but that’s impossible. I’d know if Bevy wanted me to ask her, I’m sure of it.
I move closer to her, mirroring her pose with my own hands on my hips. “Bob is NOT a nice guy and I don’t want you going to the dance with him.”
I can practically see the smoke coming out of Bevy’s ears.
“You can’t tell me what to do, Trip Fisher!” she shouts.
“I most certainly CAN!”
She stomps her foot and crosses her arms in front of her. “I’m going to the prom with Bob, so stow it!”
Bevy has never liked Kathy, always calling her a snob and saying that she only cares about looking pretty all time so she can catch a rich husband and spend all his money. I’m so angry at the thought of Bevy going to prom with Bob that the next words fly out of my mouth without a second thought.
“FINE! Then I’m going to have Kathy come over and keep me company while you’re busy on your little date!”
Bevy rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re going to ask her out again when you know very well she only likes you because your dad owns the bank.”
Billy laughs and I feel my face redden because Bevy doesn’t know how to speak quietly. There’s also the fact that she’s kind of right. Kathy’s always asking why my family doesn’t buy a bigger home since we have so much money and she works so hard at buttering up my parents that it’s almost sickening. I want to tell Bevy that Kathy doesn’t hold a candle her, but I stick my foot a little deeper in my mouth instead.
“Now we both have dates. Maybe we should double. Oooh, I have a better idea. Kathy and I can be chaperones! I’ll just go inside and ask the principal if he needs more volunteers.”
What the hell am I saying? This is a horrible idea!
Billy laughs, but I ignore him.
“Oh, that sounds like a fine idea,” Bevy tells me sweetly. A little too sweetly. “I’ll have Bob pick me up at your house, since I’m sure your mom is going to want to help me get ready, and then we can all go together.”
I really expected her to protest the idea of a double date, not go along with it. My anger and jealousy boils hotter thinking about Bob sliding a corsage on Bevy’s wrist, Bob holding her hand, Bob putting his hands on her while they dance.
“Since when do you want to go to the dance, anyway? You don’t even like dances! You know you have to get dressed up and actually look nice for a change, right? You have to brush your hair and keep your dress clean!”
Billy whistles under his breath and takes a step back from us as Bevy drops her hands to her sides and clenches her hands into fists.
“YOU are a JERK, Trip Fisher! I’m not going home with you, I’d rather walk,” Bevy whispers before she turns and runs away.
If she had screamed those words at me, I would have fired something equally insulting right back, but seeing the tears pool in her eyes and hearing the hurt in her voice stops me from shouting at her as she disappears around the corner of the school.
“I can’t believe she’s going to the dance with Bob Miller!” I shout, kicking my foot angrily against the tire of my car.
“I can’t believe you’re such an idiot,” Billy tells me with a sad shake of his head.
Bevy hasn’t spoken to me in a week, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I’ve thrown so many rocks at her bedroom window that I’m surprised the glass hasn’t gotten weak and shattered.
; She came over an hour ago so my mom could help her get ready. When I opened the door, she shouldered right past me and up the stairs without a word. I wish she would let me apologize so we could get past this. I hate having Bevy mad at me.
I’ve been shooting Bob dirty looks ever since he got here and feel like an idiot when he asks me where Kathy is. Obviously, Bevy enlightened him of my genius plan of serving as chaperone. Instead of telling him the truth, that I never even called Kathy because I don’t want anything to do with her, I lie and tell him she had other plans. While Bob goes on and on about how he beat the free-throw record I set my senior year, I tune him out.
I want to tell Bevy I’m sorry for being such a jerk, but she’s been closed upstairs with my mother in her bedroom and neither one of them answered when I knocked.
A few minutes later, I hear the stairs creak and Bob whistles under his breath. I turn my head and my mouth drops open in shock.
Bevy is slowly making her way down the stairs, holding onto the railing with one hand and bunching up some of the fabric of her long skirt in the other so she doesn’t trip. At least I think it’s Bevy. I’ve never seen her look like this before. She looks gorgeous. I mean, Bevy has always been a pretty girl, she’s just never done anything special to make herself more pretty like a lot of girls. It’s never mattered much to me because when I look at her, she always looks like the most beautiful girl in the world, but right now, I am amazed. Tonight, she’s wearing a pale blue dress that hangs off of her shoulders and her hair is piled up on top of her head. She has on just a tiny hint of makeup and, next to her dress, her eyes look like big, blue swimming pools.
