Perfectly Good White Boy

by Carrie Mesrobian

  “How should I know?”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I said. “But it’ll be fun, if you guys come. It’s out at that camp on Prairie Lake, and we’ve rented all the camper cabins and stuff, if you want to stay all night. And we can probably drink and everything, too, if we’re not too obvious about it. I know Brad wouldn’t get married without getting a keg, you know?”

  “Cool,” Eddie said. “We’ll definitely go, then.” He slid his arm around Ivy’s neck as she came up from the bathroom and kissed her cheek and Ivy said, “Go where? I’m so tired. I just want to go home and shower and sleep for five hundred years.”

  Neecie stood by me; we didn’t touch, just looked at our touchy friends, and I had a feeling like I was not in my body, like I was apart from myself. Like I was dribbling slowly out of my skin into something else. My hands were shaking, and I shoved them in my pockets.

  “I’m going to miss you guys so much,” Neecie said. “Seriously. I am.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The day of Brad and Krista’s wedding, I had a million fucking things to do. Pick up my tux. Pick up my last check at the Thrift Bin. Pick up a bunch of tables and junk from Grandpa Chuck’s. Take a set of Krista’s bridesmaids to the camp at the lake and help them move around chairs and crap for the reception. Take another set of bridesmaids back to the restaurant where we’d had the groom’s dinner the night before, because one of them had forgotten her cell phone in the ladies’ room.

  All of that shit took a million years, so the Thrift Bin trip got put off until the end.

  Wendy was in the office when I came in.

  “Oh, hi, Sean,” she said, looking all sad, instantly. “I’m so sad you’re going. This is going to suck.”

  “Did Kerry hire anyone new yet?”

  “No, he’s in denial, I think. He wants to think you’re going to come back and he won’t need to bother.”

  “I think he better get over that quick.”

  “I know,” she said. “Or he’ll be up to his ass in baling.”

  She handed me my check, and I had to sign some crap, and then she hugged me and said to come over to the break room.

  Where Kerry was standing, in front of the table. With an ice cream cake and all the cashiers. One of them handed me a card.

  “Congratulations, man,” Kerry said. I was completely surprised. Kerry, giving me a cake?

  “Neecie’s on her way,” Wendy said. “We didn’t know when you’d show up.”

  Wendy cut up the cake, and I ate it while talking to the cashier girls I never really talked to, and they were giggly and acting dumb but still, it was nice. And Kerry wasn’t being a dick, either, which was a shock.

  When Neecie showed up, she hugged me and gave me a card that had phone minutes on it and a little good luck key chain that had a dog that looked like Otis on it, and I didn’t want to say I wouldn’t need a key chain in boot camp since it was the thought that counted.

  “Ivy and me are going to get ready for the wedding,” Neecie said. “We’re staying over all night. Eddie’s coming, too. Are you sure that’s okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool,” she said and then kissed me on the cheek and dashed off and then it was me and Wendy and Kerry standing over the melting ice cream cake.

  “Sean, I’m just so excited for you. I think this is so great,” Wendy said. In this voice that was trying-to-sound-happy.

  “Yeah, man,” Kerry said, in the same kind of voice. “You’re gonna do great.”

  “And if you ever need a job or a reference, don’t hesitate, okay?” Wendy said. “I’m serious. You’re always welcome back here.”

  “You won’t need to come back, though,” Kerry said. “Knowing you, you’ll find some other perfectly reasonable person to drive crazy and you won’t miss me at all.”

  The wedding itself was kind of a disaster. Brad had gotten super drunk at his bachelor party, which was after the groom’s dinner, and Krista was mad at him for being useless and sick on their special day. Once I was in my tux and out at the lake, you’d think I could just have fun, but Krista’s bridesmaids made me their bitch. I went back and forth to Walgreens and a million other places whenever they needed bobby pins or cigarettes. The bridesmaid who was my partner down the aisle busted her shoe strap and I had to fix it up with a zip-tie and some glue so she’d shut up already. She was making Krista insane along with everyone else.

  Finally, the wedding itself went down. Neecie and Ivy showed up, driven by Mrs. Albertson and Gary, who stopped and chatted with my mother, confirming that all was on the up-and-up about staying out late at the lake. Gary would come and bring her home, Mrs. Albertson told Neecie, over and over. Then Mrs. Albertson hugged me and said good luck and that she was so proud and it was so wonderful and all that crap.

  To Neecie she said, for the millionth time, “Make wise choices, honey.”

  “God, Mom,” Neecie said, but she kissed her good-bye all the same.

  Then my dad showed up. My chest got kind of tight, seeing him stroll across the lawn in his tux, and for a minute I wished he was gone. Or that I’d already left. But he came over and went through a bunch of hugging and hand-shaking with Brad and Krista and other people and finally got to me, and I was just one more hug, so it wasn’t a big deal, really. Though I could only see him that night in the bathroom, still. Half dead and wet.

  I had kind of got myself ready to deal with him, but then this woman came next to him, and he put her hand on his shoulder. She was holding a baby in one of those carriers you strap on your body and everyone had to be introduced to her, and the baby. I hung back as my mom approached them, and said hello to the woman and looked at the baby and I wondered what in the holy fuck was going on.

  Finally, he came over to me, and the woman with the baby was with him. He introduced them and didn’t say who she was, so I guessed he was fucking her. The baby didn’t seem to belong to him, though; he didn’t seem a part of that. I’d have to talk to my mom if I wanted to know the whole deal. I felt a little numb seeing him, though. Numb from even looking at how different he was now, how pink his skin was, how large he was, just like Brad.

  “I understand you’re leaving tomorrow,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “We’ll have breakfast together. Tonight will be a bit crazy, I think.”

  “Okay.”

  Then we had to get in our places, and the lady with the baby whisked the baby away because the photographer needed to take ten thousand photos, which was dumb, because nobody was actually married yet, so it seemed like a kind of fake-out to be doing it ahead of time. The ceremony itself was outside, around this decorated trellis thingy between the trees, everything for the wedding having tons of pink ribbons and crap dangling all over it. The actual ceremony was pretty short, too, which was good, because standing there in my stupid tight tux shoes was driving me nuts, and the shirt was tugging at my wrists because it had been fitted wrong.

  During the ceremony, Krista cried, my mom cried, my dad cried, the lady he was with cried, and so did her baby. Even Brad cried a little, while saying his vows. Only I, of my family, did not cry. The romance of the day had pretty much been spoiled by bitching bridesmaids. I should have been focusing on my brother, all beefy and handsome in his tux, but mostly I just kept looking for Neecie in the crush of people. She had on this pink dress with no shoulders, a brighter pink than Krista’s official wedding colors, tight around the chest, her long hair flying everywhere. She was wearing a pair of flip-flops, too, and when the ceremony and receiving line ended and it was time to line up for dinner, she opened up her bag and handed me a matching pair, black just like hers, but a million sizes bigger.

  “Those tux shoes are terrible,” she said. “Gary was telling me about it.”

  “Thanks,” I said, sitting down to strip out of the horrible shoes and my socks. “You’re saving my life here.”

  “They’re from Walgreens, don’t get too excited.”

  Neecie and Ivy and
Eddie and I all hung out together until I had to go eat with the wedding party. The bridesmaid I had to go down the aisle with was having some of kind of fight with her boyfriend, and she was distracted and bitchier than ever. Then everyone clinked their glasses and the toasts started. The best man, Brad’s best friend from high school, cracked everyone up with funny Brad stories that made him sound like a loveable idiot and Krista like a smart chick he was lucky to have. The maid of honor did a similar toast, but hers wasn’t funny, just sappy, about how she loved Krista like a sister and how she knew she and Brad were perfect for each other and everything was going to be so wonderful in their marriage, blah. So many possibilities.

  When it was my turn, I stood up and said it was great to have Krista in our family and I was very happy for them, and then I shut up, because I couldn’t stand everyone staring at me all hushed and quiet, and the microphone was spitting static at me. When I sat back down, I caught Neecie’s eye and she nodded at me, like I’d done good. Then Brad stood up and said he wanted to say something, even though that’s not the rule.

  He talked about Krista being so great and thanked everyone for coming and the parents and his new in-laws and whatever. Then he said, “This day is special for our side of the family, too. My little brother Sean is leaving tomorrow for the Marines. He’s going to boot camp in California. And we’re just so proud of him and want to wish him best of luck. If you’ll join me in toasting him . . .”

  Everyone sort of oohed, and he said, “To Sean. Thank you for being a good brother and for your service to our country.” Then everyone made a little polite cheer and drank. I looked down at my dinner napkin in my lap, then up at my mom, who was crying. My dad was crying too. Krista was crying. Everyone but me and Neecie was crying, it seemed, when I scanned the crowd. Then the toasts part ended, and I swear, I had about a bucket of sweat pouring down my back. I had never felt so embarrassed about anything; not because it was bad, but how everyone just assumed this grave, special thing about me, and it seemed like two minutes ago since seeing Sergeant Kendall that day at the career fair. I was happy when I could disentangle from everyone, pass through the crowd of people shaking my hand and beaming at me for something I hadn’t even done yet.

  When the dancing began, Eddie and Ivy and Neecie and I stood around, watching the First Dance and then the parents’ dancing and the little flower girl with the ring bearer and everyone was taking a million pictures. Then Neecie wanted to dance. So I danced with her, and Ivy and Eddie and my mother, and Krista, and even the bitchy bridesmaid. During the break after they cut the cake, I took Neecie’s hand and led her away from everything, down to the lake, where the dock had a little covered swing thing on the end of the L-shape.

  “Pretty crazy, huh?” I said. “I can’t believe Brad said all that shit.”

  “You didn’t think he would say anything? I would have been surprised if he hadn’t.”

  “I bet Krista made him. Jesus, I hate weddings,” I said. “This fucking shirt is driving me crazy. Thank god you brought the flip-flops, though. And this tie is the worst.”

  “Take it off, then,” she said, helping me untangle it. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” she asked.

  “A little,” I said.

  “I would be too.”

  Eddie and Ivy came over, and Eddie asked if we wanted to get high.

  “I can’t,” I said. “They piss test me first thing.”

  “Bummer,” Ivy said.

  “You don’t want to be around me when I’m high,” Neecie said. “I say the dumbest stuff.”

  “Since when do you smoke weed?” Ivy asked, all outraged.

  “Sean got me high once,” she said. “Just once.”

  “She was pretty funny,” I said. “But she’ll probably go headfirst into the wedding cake if she smokes.”

  “Neecie, you never tell me anything, I swear!” Ivy said. She turned to me and Eddie. “Did you know that fucker Tristan Reichmeier made her go into the porn store and buy him this special lube that costs like fifteen bucks for a tiny little bottle? Because he wasn’t eighteen. And she did it! She went in there and did it!”

  Eddie laughed.

  “That’s what he made you buy?” I asked. “Stupid lube? You can buy that shit at Walgreens.”

  “Not the kind he wanted,” Neecie said sadly, swinging her flip-flops over the dock. “He gave me money for it, at least.”

  “At least?” Ivy yelled. “After that shit made you all rashy and itchy for a week? He should have paid you more.”

  “It gave you a rash?” Eddie asked.

  “I have weird sensitive skin, I can’t help it,” Neecie said.

  “Even . . . down there?” I asked. Blurting.

  “Shut up, Sean!”

  Eddie and Ivy went to their camper cabin to get high, and Neecie and I went back to the party. My mom and Steven-Not-Steve were dancing to a slow song. I saw my dad sitting at a table with the lady with the baby. The lady was feeding the baby something from a little Tupperware thing, and my dad seemed really into that, for some reason.

  Neecie said, “You should introduce me to your dad.”

  “He’ll just think you’re my girlfriend, then.”

  “So?” she said, dragging me by my hand and going over to him. Introducing herself to him and the lady and the baby in that same happy way she’d introduced herself to my mom. And he stood up and smiled and looked at her, and then we all sat there, talking, and I remembered that my dad used to do that. Be in Athletic Boosters and go to block parties and grill-outs and all sorts of crap, before. He’d been a salesman; he liked being social, talking to new people, that kind of thing.

  “Can you believe this one?” my dad said, nudging the lady with the baby, pointing at me. “My littlest guy, a Marine? Been trying to get used to it. You never do, I guess. You think they’ll stay little forever, I guess.”

  The lady with the baby smiled a whole bunch. As if she knew anything about me.

  “I’ll miss him a lot,” Neecie said. “We only became friends this year, you know.”

  “I didn’t know that,” my dad said, nodding. “He had that older gal for a while, what was her name . . .?”

  “Dad . . .” I said.

  “Hallie,” Neecie supplied.

  “Right,” he said. As if he’d ever known her. “What happened to her, Sean?”

  “She went to college,” Neecie said. “In Wisconsin. But then she dropped out and came home.”

  “She’s going somewhere in St. Paul this fall, I guess,” I said. Just so it didn’t sound as bad.

  Then someone came around with plates of wedding cake and we ate a bunch of that, the lady with the baby feeding a little to the baby, too, and my dad taking pictures of that, and then Neecie asked my fucking dad to dance, and he was so pleased, you’d think she wasn’t doing a whole pity job on him, which I knew she was because I’d told her the whole sad suicide story. But later, when I was dancing with her again, she said it wasn’t pity, because she wanted to be nice, and be in my life and know my family, just like I knew hers, and what was the big problem with that?

  “He lives in Arizona now,” I said. “And don’t ask me who that lady is.”

  “She’s his sponsor,” she said. “He just told me.”

  “Oh.”

  “He won’t live in Arizona forever, maybe,” she said. “And besides. What do you lose by being nice to someone?”

  For being such a pain in the ass for most of the year, the wedding party was fun. Especially after midnight, when we all said a big good-bye to Brad and Krista as they got in his truck to drive to their hotel suite. That was also when Steven-Not-Steve and my mom and dad and the sponsor-lady-with-a-baby and a lot of the other adults left and things got really loose. A lot of dancing. A lot of beer getting spilled. A lot of people going into the lake, either in their fancy clothes or stripped down. Eddie and Ivy were running around with cans of whipped cream they’d got from somewhere, spraying them down each other’s faces or at people
passing by. Neecie was drinking champagne straight from the bottle. Some of the groomsmen started a limbo contest that got really dirty, girls pulling up their dresses and guys stripping down to their T-shirts. I was stripped down to my shirt too, sweating like crazy, and yeah, having a few beers, since my dad was gone and I didn’t have to feel weird about that, because what the hell, I could be hungover, I could sleep on the plane. But I didn’t feel exactly drunk—maybe because I was dancing and laughing—it was like the beer fizzled through me and I sweated it out or something.

  Finally, at three a.m. or so, Eddie and Ivy long disappeared, I took Neecie to my camper cabin. I’d brought sleeping bags and flashlights, and she carried two big bottles of water and she was laughing and telling me to slow down because her dress was falling down, and when we got in the cabin, she was freaked because there was no electricity.

  “It’s a camper cabin,” I said. “You’re lucky the windows have screens.”

  “Jesus. Every camp I’ve gone to involved dorms.”

  “Princess.”

  I laid out the sleeping bags and stuff, apologized for forgetting pillows.

  “They probably don’t let you have pillows in the Marines,” Neecie said, sitting on the bunk and handing me one of the giant water bottles. “Drink some of this. You don’t want to be hung-over tomorrow.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Just drink it. I’m going to brush my teeth.”

  “Jesus, why?”

  “Because I believe in dental hygiene, idiot. Didn’t you bring a toothbrush?”

  “No.”

  “Gross. You’re gross.”

  So we brushed our teeth, first her, then me using her brush and both of us spitting into the bushes. I remembered Hallie and our first morning together and felt a little weird for a minute.

  “You let other people use your toothbrush?”

  “No, god,” she said. “That’s totally gross. I’m throwing that fucking thing away.” She chucked it into the bushes.

  “Litterer.”