by Geonn Cannon
Robin looked at the front -- a cow saying, “Happy birthday!” -- and opened it. The pre-printed message said, “And many mooo-re.” Scrawled across the bottom was a simple: “From Molly.” Robin reached up and touched a knuckle to the corner of her eye. “Oh, I’m overwhelmed. Take it. Take it before I burst into tears...”
April chuckled and snatched the card back. “My card to her had a frog on it.”
“Frogs rock.”
“I thought Fraggles rocked.”
Robin laughed and checked her watch. “I should get going. Michael Huntley is coming by before class; I’m supposed to go over his homework with him. Love you.”
“Love you,” April said, tilting her head to accept a kiss. Robin’s fingers lightly trailed over the waves of April’s hair as she passed. April leaned forward on her elbows and turned to watch Robin leave the house. April waited until she heard the front door open and then called, “Your ass looks great in that dress!”
Robin shouted back, “Eyes back in your head, Page.”
April chuckled and went back to her newspaper.
##
April closed her book and threw back the covers. Robin, who had curled up to go to sleep fifteen minutes ago, sat up and looked over her shoulder. April walked out of the bedroom, the hem of her long T-shirt swishing behind her as she went. “Baby?” Robin murmured.
“It’s okay,” April called from the hallway.
Robin put her head down and closed her eyes. A few seconds later, Robin heard April dialing the phone. She paced back into the bedroom, chewing her thumbnail. Robin blinked sleepily at her. “Are you okay?”
April nodded. Her eyes brightened, and she shifted her grip on the phone. “Hey. What’s up?”
Robin frowned. Who called whom here? she wondered.
“Uh-huh. No, I just wanted to be sure. Uh-huh. Oh, okay. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I’ll talk to you later? Okay. Love you. Bye.”
“Your sister?” Robin asked. “Um. What was it, Molly?”
“Yeah,” April said. She put the phone down on the night table and crawled over Robin to get to her side of the bed. Robin swatted April’s behind as she passed, and April squealed. “What was that for?”
“Waking me up.”
April stuck her bottom lip out, pouting, and slid under the covers. “It really hurt.”
“Oh, poor baby,” Robin smiled. She leaned in and kissed April’s bottom lip. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?” She lifted the blankets and started to slide under.
April sighed. “If you really wanted to make it up to me...”
A few seconds later, April said, “Uh...y–you know, that’s really not where you swatted...”
“Want me to stop?” Robin asked. Her voice was muffled by the blankets and April’s T-shirt being over her head.
“No, just pointing it out, continue at...o–oh...will...”
Robin chuckled and went back to work.
##
“Never?”
“I wouldn’t say we never will...Hold still.” April pressed her hands to Robin’s head just over her ears. She straightened Robin’s neck and then ran the comb through her short hair again. “It’s just a long way to go for, what, a fifteen-minute lunch? If we left after school on Friday, flew out there, drove to the island–”
“You can drive to an island?”
“Hush. By the time we drove onto the ferry, Miss Specific, and met up with Molly, we’d only have about ten hours before the next flight left to get back here for Monday morning classes. Assuming Molly was off work and could spend any time with us at all.”
April held the comb still and brought the scissors up. She snipped another centimeter off. She used the comb to brush the stray hairs free.
“You’re not cutting it too short, are you?” Robin said, starting to turn in the chair.
April put her hands on Robin’s cheeks and turned her head forward again. “Will you just trust me? If you keep turning around I’m going to give your ears an extra piercing.”
Robin sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “You’re the boss. Do I get to cut your hair next?”
“Bite your tongue,” April said. She stroked her curls and whispered, “Shh, babies. The mean lady didn’t mean it. I won’t let her hurt you.”
Robin chuckled and said, “I still think it would be nice to see her.”
“Yeah,” April said. She paused, her voice melancholy when she started combing Robin’s hair again. “I miss her.” She cut a few more times, used her hand to brush the back of Robin’s head, and said, “Okay, I think you’re done.” She stepped back and brushed the towel lightly across Robin’s neck. She bent down, lips close to Robin’s skin and gently blew the stray hairs away.
Robin shivered and leaned her head back. “See, this is why I don’t go to the barber shop.”
April scratched Robin’s now-bare neck and chuckled.
##
Her voice was rough, hoarse. She was sore all over, and her mind was reeling as she tried to focus on the asshole’s questions. “There’s...there’s a sister.”
“Local?”
“No. Uh...someplace in Washington, I think. An island.”
The antiseptic smell was starting to get to her. The harsh blue-white of the walls burned her eyes. Or maybe that was the floor cleaner. Or maybe it was just because she still hadn’t stopped crying. And now this bastard with a clipboard was acting like it was business as usual. Which, to be fair, it was for him. It was business as usual, deciding what to do with...with the body. He wore baby-blue scrubs, his gray hair swept back away from his face and gathered at the back of his head in a slick ducktail. He looked like a refugee from The Outsiders. Ponyboy’s long lost medical examiner.
“I’ll need the name of the preferred funeral home if you would like to have her transported there. Does her family have a plot?”
“Yes,” Robin whispered. She and April had discussed their plans for “if the worst happened.” But, god damn it, they had discussed what they’d do if they won the lottery, too. She turned her head and looked at the drawer the coroner had pushed April’s body into. How can she breathe in there? she thought. And then, Oh. Right.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
She looked at him. “No. I’m not all right.” She sniffled and wiped her cheek. “I have the information at home. I think the funeral place is called...Roast. I don’t know. I’ll check.”
The coroner nodded. “Okay, well. The sooner you can let me know...are you okay?”
“No!” she snapped. “I just said...”
“I was only asking if the hospital had released you yet.”
Robin cringed. “Oh. Sorry. Yes. I can get the information to you by this afternoon.” He nodded and Robin walked up to the drawer. She put her hand against the cold metal door that said Page, April. “Bye, baby,” she whispered. It wasn’t fair; they had barely even been two feet apart. Now, she got to leave the hospital one mere day after it happened. And April would never get to leave.
##
Standing in the middle of the bedroom, Robin realized she was staring into space again, crying again. She brushed the back of her hand over her cheek and turned to the closet. April's clothes waited patiently for her to return to wear them again, the lotions on the vanity were waiting for her fingers to dip into them, but Robin put them all away. Folded, zipped into garment bags, tucked neatly away where they wouldn't jump out with their memories.
She found the peasant blouse in the back of the closet. She couldn't remember April ever wearing it, except at the school dance where they first got together. Their first kiss, their first drive together in the car. Robin didn't hold back the tears. She pressed the material to her face and sobbed, dropped to her knees and whispered, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."
When the attack passed, Robin ran her fingers over the embroidery at the neckline, sniffed, and stood up again. She had been killing herself trying to find the right outfit to send to the funeral home, but kept comin
g up short. The dresses and gowns in April's closet, put there for extremely fancy occasions, just didn't look right. But this, this would be perfect. She knew it was what April would have picked for herself.
She carried the peasant blouse to the bed, laid it out on the mattress and went to find a garment bag.
##
Robin realized she had fallen asleep, lulled by thoughts of the past. She sat up and brushed at her face. She was surprised to find tears on her cheeks. “Oh, April,” she whispered. “I miss you so damn much...I miss you and...I’m not sure what I’m going to do without you...” She pushed herself off the bed and walked to the armchair she was using as a dresser. She lifted the suitcase into the seat and flipped it open.
She would keep her date with Molly, but then she would do whatever she could to get off the island as soon as possible. There was a charter plane service, there was probably a late ferry...hell, if someone had a canoe they were planning to aim towards Seattle, she would take that, too. She was having enough trouble dealing with April’s ghost; she didn’t need a living, breathing duplicate making things worse.
##
Robin wore a long, flowered dress and a sleeveless white blouse when she headed downstairs that night. She paused in the front room and told Mrs. Appleton she probably wouldn’t be staying much longer and thanked the kindly old woman for her hospitality. “Don’t you worry about it, dear,” Mrs. Appleton said. “I hope you had a nice stay.”
“It was...revealing.”
“Well, that’s nice, dear. Be sure to sign the Apple guestbook before you check out.”
Robin agreed and left the house. She walked across the ferry lanes to Gail’s. A line had formed, but at least it wasn’t stretching out onto the boardwalk. She assumed it was the lull between the lunch and dinner rushes. She got into line and leaned against the wall, watching the back of the restaurant for glimpses of Molly when the kitchen door happened to swing open.
It took her a moment to realize she was mimicking the way she used to look up from her desk every time a student opened her classroom door. She would crane her neck and try to see into April’s classroom in the hopes maybe April was doing the same. April had a Forms of Speech map on the wall next to her door and frequently stood next to it so she could point out whatever she was talking about during her lectures.
Robin shook her head, loosening the cobwebs of her memory. Molly wasn’t April. Despite what they’d done together -- and God, where had her brain been during that little adventure? -- Molly was not April. The line moved quickly and soon, she was being escorted to a small two-top table at one end of the room. She would have to turn around in order to see the harbor, but she couldn’t see into the kitchen. She figured it was a win-win.
When the waitress arrived, Robin ordered the Sour Soup -- crab bisque served in a hollow loaf of sourdough bread -- and asked, “Molly Page is working now, right?” She wanted to be sure that Molly hadn’t backed out of their meeting.
“Yep, she sure is.”
“Could you please tell her that Robin Fraser is here?” she asked, taking away the option of fleeing herself.
“Sure,” the waitress chirped. She took the menu and scurried away. Robin checked her watch and, almost against her will, craned her neck when the door to the kitchen swung open again.
##
Molly felt Shane behind her now more than ever. When their hips bumped, Molly felt a self-conscious buzz. She would murmur an apology, or Shane would if it had been her fault, and then they’d get back to their own respective orders. Molly wondered if Shane felt the same buzz or if it was just her. After all, Shane had gone on first dates before. They must be practically old hat to her by now.
And Molly, well...she’d had first dates. On rare occasions, she’d had second and third dates. But they never went beyond that. A few dinners with someone, maybe someone to sit next to at the movies, and then sometimes back to her place for a little sex. There was never this unnerving, uncomfortable feeling around it. The fact that her plans with Shane already felt different than her past dates was alarming, to say the least.
Lloyd appeared at the window and handed her an order. “Sour Soup,” Molly read from the order slip. She handed the green paper to Lilly, who generally took care of the soup orders. Molly turned back to her station and saw Lloyd was still standing in the window. “There something else?”
“Dana told me to tell you that Robin Fraser is here.”
Molly tensed. “Oh. Thanks.”
Shane caught the look on Molly’s face. “You need a break?”
“No. Uh...I’ll be getting off in about an hour anyway. Lloyd, tell her I’ll be ready to go by the time she’s done eating.”
Lloyd gave a thumb’s up and disappeared from the window. Molly went back to her order, and Shane said, “You okay?”
“Robin is...was...well, is my sister’s partner.”
“Oh,” Shane said. “You sure you don’t want to...?”
“No,” Molly said. “She ordered a dinner, I can stay at least until she’s finished eating. Besides, I promised you I’d be here until six.”
Shane said, “All right. Let me know when you’re getting ready to go.” She casually reached over and squeezed Molly’s hand before she turned back to her own prep table.
Molly looked down at the fingers Shane had squeezed and thought to herself, Oh...so that’s what it feels like...
She shook off the tingles still tracing through her hand, picked up the knife, and went back to work.
##
“Molly,” Shane said. She nudged Molly with her elbow and gestured at the clock. “It’s quarter to six. You go ahead and go.”
“You sure?” Molly said. “I should just finish this fish and rice...”
Shane said, “You could. Or I could. Or I could bring in a monkey and he could finish it. Please, Molly. Baked salmon and rice?”
Molly glared at Shane as they switched places. “Things are slowing down,” Shane said. “And trust me, if Lilly and I can’t handle the rest of one night on our own, we’ll tender our resignations to Clifton in the morning. Go. You are freed.”
“Okay, okay,” Molly threw down her knife with faux anger. “You wanna throw me out of my own kitchen, go right ahead.”
Shane grinned and said, “The hierarchy has shifted. When you get back, Lilly will be sous-chef, and you can take over for her at soups and desserts.”
“She wishes,” Molly said. She took off her hat and jacket, going to stow them in her locker. When she passed the prep tables again, Molly waited to make sure Lilly was at the sink washing off some scallops and they were alone. She gripped Shane’s wrist and leaned in so no one would overhear. “If I had to be run out by anybody, I prefer it be someone I respect. I won’t hand over the reins of my kitchen to just anyone. Understand?”
“Yeah,” Shane said softly. “Thank you.”
Molly nodded and released Shane. “Yeah. I...just thought I should tell you.”
“I appreciate it.”
Molly nodded once more and then left the kitchen. As soon as she was through the doors, it was like stepping into another universe. The noise and clatter of the kitchen faded immediately, replaced by the quiet piano music Clifton piped through the intercom system. The lighting went from bright and overbearing to sedate and intimate. There were only a handful of customers in the main dining room, even though it was peak dinner time. Molly spotted Robin at a small table by the wall and made her way over. “Hello again,” she said. She gestured at the empty seat across from Robin’s. Robin nodded, and Molly sat down.
“Hi,” Robin said. She folded her hands in front of her and said, “The, uh...soup was great.”
“Oh. I, uh...” She shook her head. “I didn’t make it.”
“That’s twice,” Robin said. She arched her eyebrow and said, “You are the chef here, right? You do occasionally cook things?”
Molly couldn’t help but smile. “You just got lucky. Do you want to talk here, or...?”
“No. Not here. Is there someplace we could...?”
“Sholeh Village has a lot of places that are open late. We could go there.”
Robin nodded. She had already paid the check, so she put on her coat and followed Molly out of the restaurant. The hostess said, “Have a nice evening,” as they passed and stepped out into the chilly night.
Molly noted the jacket and said, “You’re already used to the whiplash changes in weather, huh?”
“Not used to them,” Robin said. “But prepared maybe.” She smiled and buttoned her coat. “I’m parked back at the B-and-B.”
“My car’s right here if you’d rather I drove.”
“Yes, I’d like that,” Robin said quickly. Molly glanced at her, sure she’d heard relief in Robin’s voice. She probably just preferred having a local behind the wheel.
They climbed off the boardwalk, and Molly escorted Robin to her car. They got in, and Robin reached for the seatbelt. She held the silver buckle in her hand and watched how the restaurant’s lights skipped off of it. Molly watched her for a moment, waiting for her to fasten the belt. Finally, she said, “Robin? Are you all right?”
Robin looked at Molly, her dark eyes wet with tears. “I think I have to tell you...how April died.”
Molly tensed. She’d wanted to know, ached to know, but all she heard was the official report. April had been the passenger in a car that was speeding down a deserted road. The tire had blown or something, the car went flying, and April had died. “Why do you have to tell me?” Molly whispered. She was anticipating the pain, the anguish that would come with the telling of the story. Maybe she could live with the official, detail-free report.
“I have to tell you because it’s my fault she’s dead.”
Chapter Fourteen
Molly stared straight ahead through the windshield. The headlights cut through the quickly thickening darkness like twin blades of a knife. The dashboard lights were reflecting on Molly’s face, which Robin watched carefully for any signs of emotion. Anger, hatred, confusion. Try as she might, however, she saw nothing in Molly’s face that betrayed her thought processes. The rest of her, however, was a different story. Molly kept her face calm, but her knuckles were white on the steering wheel and her spine was ramrod straight.
