by S. E. Rose
Kylie: Make it rain, sister!!
Lanie: Please tell me that you aren’t betting on Clark’s love life?
Kent: They aren’t betting on Clark’s love life. Oh, and I had five-to-one on that, so…
Lanie: (eye-rolling emoji) I can’t even with you people.
Me: Anyhow, back to this weekend. Megan is coming to help. We’ll see you around two thirty.
Kent: Dinner will be over at our house afterward. You should bring her.
Me: Sort of was planning on that…(confused emoji)
Lanie: I like this. I like Megan. You two were so cute together as kids.
Me: Don’t say things like that. It’s weird.
Di: Our little Clarkie-warkie is all grown up! Le sigh.
Me: I thought maybe you figured that out when you walked in on me last year.
Kylie: Ewww. No. I don’t want to talk about Clark’s love life anymore.
Di: I’m still seeking therapy about that.
Lanie: Yeah. I can’t un-hear any of your penis names. I’m still traumatized.
Me: Ben Franklin sends his regards. (winking emoji)
I toss my phone down and grin. I can’t wait for this weekend.
My phone buzzes again. It’s a text from Megan.
Megan: Are you studying for Swill’s midterm? Or do you just “wing” those?
I grin.
Me: Define “study.”
Megan: (eye-rolling emoji) Never mind.
Me: Are you asking me to study with you?
Megan: I was.
Me: All-nighter?
Megan: Sigh. Yeah.
Me: I have the perfect spot. Bring a pillow, a blanket, snacks, caffeinated beverages, and whatever you need to study. And meet me in front of the library in thirty minutes. Old library.
Megan: OK…why does this make me nervous?
Me: Because you are giving up control. Relax. I got this.
Megan: Famous last words.
Me: Just meet me there.
I grab my things and head over to the library. I love this spot. When I have to study and need to completely detach from everything, this is where I go. I admit I’m not sure I really want to share it, but fuck it, it’s my last semester and I’ll probably only use it one or two more times.
It’s a warm fall night that feels more like late summer rather than the beginning of October. It’s dark out. Only the lights surrounding the paths along the quad illuminate the area as I walk up to the side of the old library building. There’s a newer library that opened last year, but I prefer this one.
I find Megan wearing a backpack and holding two cups of coffee. She hands me one.
“I’m hoping you still like chocolate because I got you a mocha latte,” she states.
“Perfect. Come on,” I say as I lead us around the back of the library.
She gives me a suspicious look but follows. I find the side door unlocked as usual, and once inside, I start climbing the stairs. We walk up five flights and then I prop open a door and look around.
“Follow me,” I whisper as we creep through the periodical section. It’s quiet up here but I have an even better place. I turn down the row of periodicals starting with the letter “r” and punch a code into a door lock. It opens and we begin climbing more stairs. Three more flights and I open the last door.
There’s a cool breeze up here and I’m glad to have a blanket in my backpack.
“The bell tower?” she says as she looks around at the open space. She sets her bag down and walks around the platform. There is a ledge surrounding us and a space in the middle where the bell hangs. It no longer works, but it looks cool. The backside of the tower is more protected with two outlets and a higher wall near the door. Two plastic chairs still sit here where I left them last semester.
She turns back to me. “How?”
I grin and shrug. “I have my ways.”
She places her hands on her hips. “Clark, come on. How did you find out about this place?”
I smirk. “I mean, you can see it from everywhere on the quad. It’s not a state secret.”
Now she’s giving me one of those patented Megan looks and I can’t help laughing. I hold up my hands. “OK, OK. When I was pledging, we used to study down in one of the group study rooms. Some of my pledge class were being super annoying one night and I actually needed to study. It was for my Chinese class and I sucked at Chinese. Anyhow, I went to go find a quiet corner and this janitor walked by and dropped his toolbox and tools went everywhere. I offered to help him, and we started chatting. His name is Ron and he’s been working as a maintenance guy here for like thirty years. Anyhow, I followed him up here because he was fixing one of those exterior lights over there”—I point to the lights surrounding the tower—“and I helped him. We became friends. He gave me the code to come up here.”
“He just gave you the code?” she asks.
“I might have gotten him tickets to a game,” I admit.
“So, this is where the magic happens?”
I chuckle again. “Something like that.” I open the door and reach into a little closet inside where I keep an old sleeping bag for when I need alone time. I’ve on rare occasions fallen asleep up here while studying.
“You keep a sleeping bag here?” Meg asks.
“Contrary to popular belief, I do study.”
“Wow, wonders never cease,” she retorts as she sets her bag down and pulls out a rolled-up pillow, blanket, and laptop.
Then, she reaches into the front pocket and pulls out a box of cookies.
“You remembered,” I say as I watch her open them and set them down on the blanket. I sit down and pull out a cookie, examining it.
I sit in stunned silence as Megan pulls the thermos out from the side of her bag and opens it. She pours me a glass of milk. I twist the top of the cookie and dunk it. She grabs one and does the same. We eat in silence; no words are exchanged because they aren’t needed. After a few cookies, I set the milk down and look at her.
“What will you do if you don’t get offered a job at NASA?” I ask as I lean back against the brick half wall of the bell tower.
She props her pillow up and leans back next to me. “I guess I’ll apply with some government contractors. What about you?”
I shrug. “I’m still trying to figure out my plan b.”
“You always were a high roller,” she replies.
I raise an eyebrow and she shrugs. I take another sip of milk. “We better figure out a way to get those jobs, then,” I state.
She holds out her glass of milk to mine. “To MC being back in the building. We are going to kick some ass and take some names.”
I grin. Some of our friends used to call us MC when we were little because we always used to say that the party didn’t start until we arrived, sort of like an emcee at a club. “To MC,” I say.
Setting down her glass, she pulls up her notes. “Alright, let’s study.”
I lean forward and press my lips to hers. Her mouth parts on a gasp, allowing me to deepen the kiss. I cup her face and run my thumbs over her high cheekbones, tracing the shape and committing it to memory. I’d recognize her anywhere, just by the feel of her skin beneath my fingers.
Pulling back, I look into her heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m ready to study now.”
She groans. “You can’t kiss me like that and then study.”
I smirk. “I just did.”
She playfully swats at my chest. “You drive me crazy.”
Winking, I settle back against the wall next to her. “You love it, and you know it.”
I want to say that I love her, always have, but instead, I clear my throat and start going over my notes. Now I want to pass this class and get those jobs, but not just for me, for us.
Chapter Nineteen
Megan
We park in my parents’ driveway because there is absolutely zero space at the Moores’ house. There’s a giant dumpster in the driveway, four pickup trucks, two vans, and about eight
other cars parked along the street.
I open the car door and start to walk across the street. Clark is next to me by the time we reach the driveway. He opens the side door for me, and my eyes go wide. It’s complete and total pandemonium. There are construction people everywhere. A plumber is working on dismantling the kitchen sink. Most of the cabinets are gone along with the appliances. Clark’s siblings are busy packing up stuff in the family room on the other side of the giant walk-in pantry.
“Clark, come help us get all these things down from the shelves!” Lanie calls out from where she is attempting to reach the tops of the built-ins on either side of the fireplace.
I look at Clark. “I thought it was just the kitchen. How many rooms are you all planning to remodel?”
Clark shrugs and steps down into the sunken room. He picks Lanie up and swiftly sets her to the side. She yelps and swats his ass. “Clark!”
He grins. “Out of my way, Mother Hen. I got this.”
I laugh. I’d forgotten that’s what they all called Lanie. I walk over to her. “How can I help?”
She looks around with her hands on her hips. “Uh, maybe you can help Di get all the liquor from the wet bar into those plastic bins,” she says, pointing across the room. The backside of the kitchen’s pantry is a wet bar with glass shelves above it, a small sink, and a wine fridge.
“Sure thing.” I walk over and Di starts handing me bottles. We end up filling three giant plastic bins.
“Damn, Mom and Dad have a shit ton of alcohol,” she mutters.
I laugh. “I’m fairly certain that my dad is keeping them well-stocked.”
Giggling, Di presses the lids on the plastic bins. “Your dad’s contribution to the weekly parties is critical. I just had no idea that my parents kept so much of it. I always thought we finished everything.”
“You think this is bad, you should see my parents’ wine cellar. It’s ridiculous.”
“I bet,” she replies as we attempt to pick up a box and fail.
“Damn, these are heavy.”
Looking around, Di clears her throat and gets Kent and Garrett’s attention. They are currently taking down several framed pieces of artwork above the sectional.
“Step aside, ladies,” Kent states as he sets down a painting. He easily picks up the giant box and starts walking it into the living room. I peek past the double pocket doors into the living room. It’s filled with boxes but otherwise seems untouched.
“So, what rooms are you all remodeling?” I ask.
Kent steps back down into the room. “Kitchen, breakfast room, bathroom, and family room. Those are the rooms that need the most work. I wanted to knock down this wall and make the living room and family room one giant room, but everyone turned me down. They said if I touched anything in there, Mom would murder me.” He shrugs and goes back to moving paintings.
I walk into the living room. The room is filled with antique furniture. A shelf with glass doors takes up half of one wall and is filled with trinkets and photographs.
I feel Clark behind me before I see him.
“That’s my mom’s grandparents,” he whispers in my ear as he leans down past me and points to a black-and-white photograph of a couple. “That’s a shell my grandfather found on some Pacific Island when he was in World War II. He somehow managed to bring it home in one piece.” I listen as Clark goes on, pointing at various items and telling the story about them.
“I love your family,” I murmur when he pauses. “There’s so much history, and love, and depth to everything.”
His hands begin to massage my shoulders. “I suppose there is.”
I turn and he keeps his hands on my shoulders. “I always wished I could be part of your family. Part of all of this,” I add as I motion around the house.
We both look back into the family room where his siblings are all working together to pack things up and move them. There’s some chatter amongst them, but they know each other so well that words aren’t even needed to complete the tasks.
“Here, help me get the old photo albums boxed up,” he says as he directs me toward the built-ins.
He sits down and opens the cabinet at the bottom of the left one. It’s packed full of albums. He pulls one out and opens it. He quickly closes it.
“What?” I ask as I reach for it. He holds it up and places it in a box on the far side of him.
“What?” I ask again trying to get it, but he blocks me. Before I can try again, Kylie walks by and takes it out of the box.
She opens it to the first page and starts laughing. “Oh shit, this is awesome. Hey, Di, Lanie, come look at these.”
Everyone stops and walks over, crowding around the book. I push up to my feet and lean over it. They are baby photos of Clark and he is naked. Now, I know why he didn’t want me to see them.
“Ah, look at little Ben Franklin,” Kent says with a laugh.
Clark pulls out another photo album and then another and finally opens it and turns it around. “Quid pro quo, brother,” he says with a smirk.
I start laughing as I look at what I assume are naked baby photos of Kent.
“Awww! Let me see,” Kent’s wife, Tabby, says as she grabs the photo album. “You look so much like Vera.”
“Look at this one,” Di says as she opens the album and smiles. Everyone leans forward. They are photos from when we were kids and teenagers. Di and Lanie are in Halloween costumes dressed as giant pumpkins. The rest of us were dressed up as musicians.
“That’s the year we went as Sonny and Cher,” I state as I start laughing. It had been Lanie’s idea.
“Oh man, I forgot about that,” Clark admits as he looks at the photos. There are many with me in them in this album. I had forgotten all the things we had done together. I mean, we were always together, but the day-to-day things you do slowly move to the recesses of your mind as the years go by, and then one day they just disappear altogether.
“You two were so cute when you were little. Remember when they were two or three and we dressed them up like a flower and bee?” Di says with a laugh.
“Or the year we made them that dog from the Toy Story movies and connected them with a giant slinky,” Kent says, laughing.
“I don’t remember that,” Clark interjects.
“Me either,” I state. Several albums later, we find the photos proving Kent’s memory is accurate.
“Well, shit, we were pretty fucking cute,” Clark admits as he looks at the old photo of us. It hits me at that moment just how many years we’ve known each other. Our whole lives. Except for the last three years of being passing ships in the night, we’ve always been around each other. Even when we were in constant competition in high school, we were still always around each other. How was I so blind? Why did I let myself hate him, or pretend I hated him? I curse myself internally once more at having wasted so many years where we could have been friends or more.
Clark
I watch as Meg helps Di carry boxes into the living room. She’s so at ease around my siblings. I don’t know why she wouldn’t be. It hadn’t dawned on me until we went through those old photo albums that she was practically another Moore for fourteen years. Hell, our families even had spent many summers in Ocean City, Maryland, together at a house owned by our aunt and uncle.
She knows me in ways that other girls never could. She knows my deepest, darkest secrets, well, most of them. She also knows most of my most embarrassing moments. There’s no worry about laying my soul bare to her because it’s always been laid bare to her since we were babies.
I leave the ladder by the built-ins as I go to grab another box to carry into the living room.
“Uncle Clark, check out my new toy!” Ash says as he comes whipping into the room with a sword. I have to say the sword looks completely legit.
“Wow, nice, little dude.”
“It’s heavy too, so it’s like real,” he says as he swings it around.
“Careful, Ash, there are a lot of people in here. What
did I say about that?” Lanie scolds.
Ash groans. “Play with it outside.”
She nods and motions to the glass sliding door before giving her husband a pointed look. I stifle a laugh as I carry the box into the living room which is quickly filling up with items. I find a place and turn back around. Ash is on the ladder swinging his sword.
“Ash!” Lanie screams.
Ash loses his balance, grabs the top rung, and thrusts his sword up and into the drywall of the ceiling.
“Oops!” he says and then goes to climb down but his sword is stuck in the drywall. He yanks on it and looks up, realizing what he’s done.
I step over and grab the handle of it, yanking it free and pulling down a giant chunk of drywall in the process.
I can see the imminent waterworks starting. I fucking hate it when kids get upset. It may be worse than when girls cry.
“It’s cool. We have to take down the ceiling anyhow,” I lie as I purposefully poke another hole in it with the sword.
Ash’s tears turn to giggles. “Uncle Clark!”
“Clark!” Lanie chastises as she tries to grab the sword from me, but now I’m a man on a mission. I poke a few more holes until Kent grabs it from me.
“Fuck, C-Dog. We weren’t going to rip out the whole ceiling, we just wanted to add a few lights,” he says with a sigh as he runs his hand through his hair and huffs.
I grin because the perfect idea has struck me.
“Oh no. Nope. I know that look,” Kylie states as she glances over at me.
“I have an idea.” Everyone stops and stares at me. I sort of like it. It’s not often one can command all this attention in my family, but apparently poking holes in the ceiling with a giant hard plastic sword and then saying you have an idea gets their attention. “What if we put constellations in the sky? Like a planetarium.”
Kent frowns. “Like, little lights?”
I nod. “We could map out Mom and Dad’s favorite ones. You know the ones they always made us look for first and then we could get the electrician to drop little lights there. We could wire them separately so you can turn on each constellation just by itself, like a planetarium.”
“I don’t hate it. But it sounds expensive,” Lanie admits.