by Amelia Wilde
"How's your dad doing?" I asked Claire once we had our menus. It was the first time we'd hung out since the funeral.
"He's dealing with his grief by throwing himself into cleaning out Uncle Gid's place," Claire said.
I swallowed back the urge to tell her I already knew this. From having lunch with her brother. I wasn't sure she could handle that information.
I wasn't really sure I could handle it myself.
"Foster's gotta have a job to do," Willa agreed. "I told you about the time I came over for a study group and he inflated my bike tires and greased my chain for me?"
Claire nodded. "It's how he shows love. I've told him a bunch of times that just saying 'I love you' is a lot less strain on the back." She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. It was funny, but up until recently I had never noticed how much she looked like her brothers. Specifically her oldest one. Her hair was lighter, but they shared the same hazel eyes that went green depending on what they were wearing and today she was wearing a fuchsia sweater that made them look very green. Just like Jonah.
He really was a good looking guy. Too bad he was a complete dick.
Luckily Claire had no idea I was thinking these thoughts about her brother. She flicked unseeing through her menu. "The shed is almost empty. It's going to be weird not having anyone live there."
"You think you might move in?" Sadie asked. Claire had been sighing about needing her own place, especially since her brothers kept showing up unexpectedly.
Claire closed the menu. "Maybe. I'm not sure. Finn and Beau were making noises about it."
"You should have first dibs," Willa seethed in solidarity. "For once."
"You'd think that, but..." Claire trailed off and we all fell silent for a moment.
When the Kings started singing at festivals, it was always with Claire in tow. She had a bright, clear voice, a kind of piercing siren's call like Neko Case or Florence Welch from Florence and the Machine.
But when the Kings were discovered, it was by a manager with eyes on the next big boy band. In spite of her dreams of singing with her family, Claire was passed over just for being a girl.
Sexism strikes again.
"I might move out entirely," Claire went on. "It's kind of silly now. My parents and I, we're just roommates, anyway."
"Roommates who do your laundry," I grinned.
"Yeah, see now that's definitely a perk I'll miss if I move out." She twisted her napkin and lowered her voice in that way she had of making us all lean in. "I can't really see moving into the shed though, you know? That's Uncle Gid's place. And before that..."
"It's where your brothers practiced," I finished. I kept thinking about her brothers. Brother.
She nodded. "It's like I'm not allowed in there, you know?"
"Bullshit," Willa almost shouted, just in time for Sunni to come over to take our orders. We all froze like my students caught talking out of turn.
Sunni glowered and just held up her pen and pad of paper. "Green curry," she said to me, and it sounded like an accusation, especially accompanied by the stabbing of her pen.
"Yes, um, no bell peppers either," I stammered.
"Yes yes, no peppers," she sneered. "I know. Next?"
"You're so weird," Sadie whispered at me. "How can you not like peppers?"
"If you don't cut it out, I'll make you eat a mushroom," I whispered back.
She tried to ignore me as she argued with Sunni that no she wasn't actually having the pineapple fried rice today, she wanted the Massuman curry, but the faint greenish tinge to her face let me know my jibe had landed home. Just the idea of mushrooms was enough to make Sadie dry heave.
Willa knew better than to argue with Sunni and just let her write down 'the usual' without any idea of what she might actually receive. But Claire seemed tuned out when it came to her turn.
"What would you like?" Sunni repeated, somehow making four polite words sound like a curse.
"Did you order already?" Claire asked, looking at me.
"No bell peppers," I repeated, with a hesitant smile. "Remember? We went through this."
"Oh. Right." Claire looked at her menu again like it held some kind of answer for her. Her lips were pursed into little lines of distress.
"You liked the stir fry last time," I prompted, nodded my head as I did so. It was the same kind of encouragement I'd give to a kindergartner struggling to figure out how to hold a pencil.
"Right," Claire sighed in clear relief. "Stir fry is good."
When Sunni had stomped off I reached across the table and closed her hand in mine. "You okay there, Claire-Bear?"
"I'm fine. Just..."
"Gid?" I asked.
She looked at me and her face fell a little. "Now I feel bad. I was just going to tell you guys about what happened to Jonah."
I clamped my lips shut again and tried to look like I had no idea what she was talking about.
"He's still here?" Willa asked, sounded derisive. "I would have thought he would have blown this two-horse town by now."
"Hey, we have at least seven horses," Sadie deadpanned, sipping her overly sweet Thai iced tea and then spooning even more sweetener into it. Sadie was a sugar hound. I often accused her of being a hummingbird.
"No he hasn't," Claire sighed. "Because his manager fired him."
Sadie sputtered into her drink. Willa's mouth just fell open and I had to duck away before Claire could see my complete lack of shock.
"What the hell was he thinking?" Willa immediately demanded, suddenly on Jonah's side in all this. "Did he suffer a brain injury or something? That's Jonah fucking King."
Claire gave a small grin. "I don't know. It's not like Jojo told me." Her grin widened. "I was totally eavesdropping through the hole in the wall."
"You never grow up, do you?"
"Little brat forever," Claire said with such misguided dignity that I had to laugh.
"Poor Jonah." Sadie was still stuck on the idea of Jonah being fired from anything. "What's he going to do?"
"He should take up knitting," I said, just because I sometimes can't prevent my mouth from moving.
Claire gave me an odd look. "Oh my god, can you even imagine the poor sap trying to teach him? He'd be insisting he knew what he was doing even before he picked up the needles."
The memory of how quietly he had sat there and allowed me to wind my yarn made me want to speak up. To defend him. That maybe this version of Jonah King wasn't the same overbearing asshole we all loved to trash talk about. As much as I'd had my eye out for that asshole, I hadn't actually encountered him yet. After a few days reflection, I had to admit that ordering for me was not the huge problem I'd made it out to be. I had been hungry. I had been looking for the waitress. I could see why he thought he should get an order in. He'd been trying to do the right thing.
The truth was I had no idea what it was about Jonah that made me so angry with him all the time. It was like reality and the idea of him kept clashing together and the result was me feeling motion sick and really grumpy about it too.
But Willa and Sadie were already laughing, miming Jonah picking up knitting needles and pretending they were guitars or drumsticks. I fell silent and sipped my jasmine tea, wondering why the hell I wasn't joining in with the trash talk.
Claire noticed immediately of course. "Now it's my turn to ask you if you're okay, Ruby-Roo," she said, poking me with her finger. "You okay over there?"
I straightened up. "I should have told you, sorry. Donovan volunteered me to head up the Spring Play."
A variety of emotions passed across her face. "Really?" she said softly.
I blinked at her obvious gratitude. "I had my first rehearsal already," I told her. Two nights ago."
Willa and Sadie had fallen silent and both of them were watching Claire who seemed overcome for a moment. She looked down and then up again. All of a sudden she lunged at me, pulling me into a sharp, almost violent embrace. "I'm so glad it's you," she whispered. "Thanks, Roo."
She looked at me, suddenly earnest, right as our meals arrived. The smell of Thai basil and galangal swirled around us but no one lifted their utensils until Claire suddenly nodded. "Well that's no problem," she said. "I can help you."
I sagged back in my chair, relieved. "You will?" I breathed. "But you're so busy."
"Not so busy that I can't help with the tribute to my uncle," she said, accurately guessing my reason for 'volunteering.' She took a bite of her stir-fry and nodded. "When do you need me?"
21
Ruby
Claire turned a slow circle, taking in the empty auditorium. "It even smells the same," she marveled.
"You know, you're right," I agreed.
"How long until the rugrats show up?" she asked, glancing at the wall clock.
I pulled my notes out of my bag and set them on the top of the piano. "We have eight minutes, wanna see what I've got?" I fanned out the pages I had slaved over last night. "I'm not sure what Gid was thinking with these lyrics, but I was up half the night rewriting the closing number."
She leaned over and started laughing. "The lonely road out of hell?" she read. "He wanted six year olds to sing that?"
I shook my head. "No, now it's 'the stories we get to tell,' see that?"
She nodded. "Clever," and kept reading. "Oh my god," she exclaimed when she got to the end.
I read over her shoulder, grinning. "Right, see what I'm saying? I'm not sure Lydia Walker's parents are going to be keen on having her singing about 'losing faith.'"
"That's the Chosen girl you were telling me about, right?"
"Didn't I tell you about that? So her sister apparently defected last year, which is why her parents are allowing her to be in a play."
Claire widened her eyes. "Wow, the times are changing. Back when we were kids, the Chosen barely set foot in town. Now they're in public schools." She waggled her eyebrows. "Scandalous." She looked back at the music and hummed a few bars, nodding. "I mean, musically it's beautiful, but the lyrics..."
"So I got the whole story on that," I said, sitting down on the bench. "It seems like no one bothered to read what Gid put up, they were just desperate for a faculty member to volunteer."
Claire snorted. "It's just like Gid to use that to his advantage."
I was about to agree when the doors flew open. This time, as the kids came streaming in, I knew to just bang on the piano right at the beginning. The ear-shattering sound made them all snap to attention.
Claire looked at me, impressed. "You sure you need my help?"
I grinned, pulling out the script and waving it at her. "You have no idea."
The door banged open one more time and we all looked to see Luke Keely standing there looking mortified as he tried to wrestle the sticky door closed again. "Sorry," he grimaced.
"Maddy!" I greeted his daughter. "What are you doing? I thought you were sick today?" She hadn't been in class.
Luke rolled her eyes as Maddy streaked over to sit with Lydia and Kayleigh. "She was at death's door this morning, to hear her tell it, but by two in the afternoon, she was itching to come 'play rehearsal.' I think she has a new hero," he said gesturing to his daughter as she played with Lydia's long braid.
I bit back a smile. "They're good for each other," I told him, feeling a little smug about my matchmaking.
Luke looked at me for a long moment. He inhaled like he had something to say. I hesitated, wanting to let him speak but also not wanting to hear what he was going to ask. I had a feeling I knew what it was already. I could feel Claire's eyes taking us both in, bouncing back and forth like she was watching a tennis match.
Finally, Luke cleared his throat. "So I'll be back to pick her up," he said pointedly.
I nodded. "That's what I figured!" I said, smiling brightly.
He took a deep breath one more time, then turned and walked briskly back up the aisle. Then stopped. "The winter fest is this weekend!" he called back down to me.
"Yes it is!" I agreed.
He looked perturbed. "Want to go?"
"With you?"
"Yes!" he shouted, way too loudly.
I glanced at Claire, whose eyes were as wide as saucers. "I'll have to see!" I shouted back, acutely aware of sixty-six eyes taking all of this in behind me. "Thanks!"
Luke seemed to realize we had an audience. He turned even redder than normal and hurried back up the aisle.
"What was that all about?" Claire whispered in a voice that was loud enough to be perfectly audible. She bit her lip, grinning. "No wait, don't tell me."
"Shut it," I whispered back. I could feel my cheeks heating up. Not with pleasure or anger like they had with Jonah. I wasn't embarrassed by Luke, I was more embarrassed for him.
Which was a terrible thing to feel about a perfectly nice guy.
I shook my head and slammed my hand back down onto the piano." Okay everyone!" I gestured to Claire. "This is Miss King, she's here to help us out today!"
"Hi, Miss King!" the kids chorused, which seemed to tickle her.
"Nice job! Now!" I arranged the sheet music on the piano. "I need you all to listen because we're changing some of the words, okay?"
It was hard work rewiring them. Kayleigh in particular seemed pretty hell-bent on singing the "road out of hell" version. But I picked out the notes on the piano with my fingers and Claire sang in her bright, clear voice and we slowly maneuvered them over into less profane territory.
By the end of practice, when they were calling her Mrs. King and asking her if she was a princess, I knew we'd won them over.
"Thank you," I breathed in relief as parents started showing up for pick-up. I threw my arms around my friend. "I feel like Gid would be okay with us doing a little light editing here and there."
Claire laughed. "You call that light? We rewrote the whole thing!" She shook her head. "He would have gotten his ass fired for this." Then she got that wicked glint in her eyes, the one that made her look most like Jonah. "Maybe that was his plan? Go out in a blaze of glory?"
I fell silent and Claire cleared her throat. "It's still his music. It's a nice tribute."
"Yeah but I still have to figure out some way to play the music." I grinned. "I'm going to be up late practicing, that's for sure."
Claire sighed. "Let me think about this. I bet I can come up with something."
I nodded. Claire knew how to play probably every instrument in the book. I felt my load lighten considerably to know she'd play in my stead. "That'd be awesome, thanks." It was coming together. Everything finally felt under control.
22
Ruby
My day started with my car door frozen shut and went right downhill from there.
Not one, but two of my kindergartners vomited in the classroom, one all over the toys during indoor recess. The smart board broke and three kids got in a knockdown, screaming deathmatch over the favored pair of headphones for computer time. I'd worked right through my lunch preparing reports for a conference, then the parent had called and cancelled, and I spilled tomato soup down my blouse.
The few minutes of silence before rehearsal started was the first moment of peace I had felt all day.
I leaned over and collapsed onto the cool, polished wood of the piano and let out a long, shuddery breath. I could only imagine what Claire was going to say when she saw me like this. She'd probably drag me out for drinks after rehearsal. And I'd let myself be dragged.
I sighed, expecting to hear her calling out for me to stop sleeping on the job.
But she didn't call out.
She was late.
Frowning, I stood back up and fumbled through my purse. I grabbed my phone, intending to send her a "where you at?" text.
There on my screen hovered a message notification from her. From five hours ago.
It had been that kind of day.
I swiped the message open and h
er breathless apology took up nearly half the screen. I could just imagine her dictating it as she drove to her next client appointment.
Claire: Roo OMG so they fucked up my schedule today. Turns out I have a stupid client dinner starting at 5:30 and it's way over in Reckless Falls so I have to leave at like 4:15 but I have a shitton of work to do before that because did I mention these clients are stupid anyway don't hate me but I can't make it but don't worry I got you covered okay I'm sending help let me know if he gives you problems, he's on official baby-sister notice.
I barely had time to register what she was saying help? He? On official baby sister notice? before the auditorium door swung open. I turned, crossing my fingers it was the kids arriving.
It was not the kids.
It was Jonah.
Upon seeing him, it was like my body tried to feel every feeling at once while at the same time my brain tried to think every thought at once and the end result was that I just stood there, staring at him as he turned in a slow circle, taking in the auditorium with a long, low whistle. "Wow," he said. "This place hasn't changed a bit."
He seemed impossible in this space. I knew there was a time when Jonah King was just a normal kid who sat here in these seats during assemblies. I knew that he'd played a few talent shows right up on this stage, but what I knew to be true and what I felt to be true were two different things. This space was huge, but somehow Jonah was bigger. He was forty feet away from me, but I could feel the electric hum in the air around him. There was no way I should be able to feel his warmth, but that was exactly what my body insisted was happening. There was no way I should feel the ghost of his lips against mine, but that's exactly what I felt.
Hastily, I turned and grabbed my purse, unnecessarily setting it on the floor and closing it just to buy myself some time. My reaction made no goddamned sense. The last time I had seen him was when I was shouting and rushing away, furious with him. I'd been mulling that lunch over in my head, over and over again, playing it on repeat. At this point, I could tell you exactly when he smirked, exactly when he exhaled, exactly when he leaned in and tried to make nice. And somewhere in that obsessive replaying I'd become...obsessed.