Even in Paradise

by Chelsey Philpot

  I made as if I was going to bump her again, and she braced her arms against the pew in front of us.

  “Ugh,” I said, groaning as I dropped my head back. “I feel like death and I have a four-hour bus ride.”

  “Need a lift to the station?”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, it’s out of my way anyway,” Rosalie said, looking at her watch. “Come on. Julia’s car is coming in five, so we’ll go say good-bye, then hit the road.”

  As Rosalie started to stand up, I grabbed her hand and pulled her down into a hug.

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Charlotte,” she said softly against my neck, all traces of sarcasm gone. “Getting your heart broken isn’t the worst thing in the world. But not taking that risk? That’s just pathetic.”

  Rosalie let go first. “You obviously haven’t brushed your teeth today, ’cause you have dragon breath, so why don’t you do that before we’re stuck in a car together. Oh, and you’re buying me a coffee, a huge, giant coffee with more sugar and cream than necessary, eh?”

  “Done and done,” I said.

  We stuck to the side of the buildings as we darted across the quad back to the library and the south gate where Julia’s driver would meet her. I knew we were supposed to be keeping quiet in case there was any faculty left on campus, but every time Rosalie peeked around the side of a wall with her fingers held up like a fake gun I laughed. She might not have been a real spy, but for a few minutes her pretending to be one helped me forget about him.

  For a few minutes, I got to be happy to be running around a place I never wanted to leave on a spring morning I didn’t want to end.

  PHONE CALL #1

  He called me later that morning, and he kept calling until I finally picked up that afternoon when I was home in New Hampshire.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was a saw cutting through knotted wood.

  I said nothing.

  “Charlie, Charlotte, look, I didn’t mean what I said. About Julia and you being responsible. And I know I sounded like a rich jerk about the earrings and the truck. I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “Look. I speak first and think much, much, much later. It’s a character flaw. I’m working on it.”

  I didn’t feel like laughing.

  “Okay. It’s too soon for jokes . . . I know it doesn’t excuse what I said, but I really did just want to get you something amazing. You like to collect stuff and you’re always taking shells from Arcadia, so the earrings, they reminded me of you.” He paused. “And I meant what I said about you being so good for Julia. She hasn’t been this happy since . . . since before the accident.”

  My insides loosened a little, and I put down the throw pillow I had been hugging since I answered his call.

  “I’m sorry. Charlie, you said that you were confused. Sometimes I am, too.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive.” I forgot that the phone Bradley gave me was much nicer than my old one and I didn’t have to shout into it.

  “No, you were—”

  “No, I was—”

  “Tree pose?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Buchanan truce. Tree pose.”

  “Right. Tree pose.” I could picture him pacing in front of the Buchanans’ Boston house, kicking his feet against the uneven bricks that lined the sidewalks of Beacon Hill. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “I know you do. That’s why this works. You get it.”

  “I get it.”

  “Let me come up and visit you. Let me come up for your actual, real birthday. I want to see where you live.”

  I looked around me, noticing not for the first time how the TV room couch sagged in the middle and Melissa’s collector’s plates did nothing to hide the water stain on the far wall. The room smelled a little like the boys’ sneakers and forgotten lunch bags, and I had left the door open to the den, which meant I would be finding action figures and small footprints all over my unmade futon. I picked a pillow off the floor and threw it on the couch and nudged a dog-eared comic book under my dad’s recliner with my toe.

  “I’ll bring Julia,” he said, as if he could sense my thoughts. “She’s driving us all nuts already. It’s like she goes through Charlie withdrawal.”

  I perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of one of the windows and ran a hand over the scratched glass surface. I heard Melissa and my dad drive up before I saw the truck pull in.

  “Charlie? You still there?”

  My dad whistled as he slammed the driver’s-side door shut and grabbed a box from the bed of the truck. Melissa came around the other side swinging a large white paper bag with bottles and the Styrofoam head she practiced styling hair on poking out the top. He said something to her that made her laugh and knock his cap off his head. He was grinning as he put down the box and dusted the cap off on his pants before swatting at her with it.

  They were ridiculous, but they were my ridiculous.

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay. I can work with maybe.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  “CHARLOTTE EVELYN RYDER, STOP PACING or I’ll tie your feet together.” Melissa used the same tone she took with Sam and AJ when they refused to brush their teeth. “If you have to be a nervous Nellie, go outside and do it in the driveway where you won’t wear a hole in my floor.” Her platinum blond hair was twisted into a loose, complicated braid that fell like a shiny rope down the middle of her back. At her part, her dark roots were already creeping in.

  She reminded me of an elf as she moved around the kitchen, opening and shutting the oven door, poking one of her manicured fingers into the casserole, reaching for the salt on a shelf way too high for her.

  The restlessness was unlike her. She was the steady calm that reined in the craziness. Whenever one of the boys got a scrape or broke something or played too close to the road, she was always the first responder. The time my dad nearly cut a finger off with a table saw, she was the only one who could handle all the blood on the long ride to the hospital.

  But on the day of my birthday party, she was nervous, too.

  Impulsively, I hugged her, resting my cheek on her back just long enough to mumble, “Thank you. I really, really appreciate it. This is already the best birthday ever.”

  “Oh, honey,” she said, putting down the knife she had just picked up and turning around to hug me back. “Of course. Now get out of here before you drive me batty or make me cry and ruin my mascara.”

  For once, I didn’t argue with her. I grabbed a carrot stick from the cutting board and tapped her on the head with it before crossing the hall and leaning in the doorway to the TV room. I shoved the carrot in my mouth, crunching loudly.

  Sam and AJ were both on their stomachs on the braided carpet, poised like penguins preparing to slide down a hill. They had their hands under their chins and were gazing with open mouths at the lion stalking a zebra on the TV screen. I finished chewing and I waited until the lion was airborne before I jumped into the room, landing between them.

  “Roooooaaaaar!”

  “Ahhhhh!” Sam screamed while AJ curled into a ball like an armadillo in defense mode. Once each saw that the other had been scared, they both jumped up and began hanging on me wherever they could.

  “Not funny,” said AJ as he jerked on my right arm. “You made us miss the best part.”

  “Yeah, the best part,” Sam echoed while he tried to ball my left hand into a fist and make my arm swing so I punched myself.

  “I thought it was hilarious.” I twisted my arms free and gave each of them a noogie.

  “Mom!” they screamed in unison, darting out of my reach.

  “Boys, don’t mess up that room before Charlotte’s friends get here,” Melissa shouted from the kitchen.

  Rubbing his head, Sam asked, “When’s your boyfriend going to get here?”

  “Yeah,” said AJ. “Where’s your boooooyfriend? Mom let us make the c
ake and she said I could light one of the candles. I’m hungry.”

  “My friends are late.” I held my arms up like I was preparing for a boxing match.

  “Noooo, Mom said you had a boy—” AJ was interrupted by the sound of tires in the driveway.

  I took a deep breath and moved toward the mudroom, but just as I reached the door, Sam and AJ attacked. Sam attached himself to my left leg, plopping down on my left foot, while AJ did the same on my right. Each wrapped his arms around my calves like they were masts on a lifeboat and they were clinging for life.

  “Guys,” I hissed. “Very funny. Let go. I have to go get my friends.” Prying at their little fingers got me nowhere. I tried shaking my legs a little, but the boys were too heavy for me to do anything but keep shuffling forward like a prisoner in shackles.

  “I’m stronger than a giant octopus,” said AJ.

  “I’m a gigantic koala,” Sam added, tightening his grip. I could feel his fingernails through my jeans.

  “If you guys don’t let go, I’m going to fix the TV so Animal Planet never—” The doorbell ringing interrupted me. I tried swaying my legs from side to side to knock them off. It didn’t work. “I won’t forget this,” I hissed. When I opened the door, Julia, Sebastian, and Vinay were standing in the middle of the porch, the part where water collected each time it rained. All three were staring at my feet.

  “Hi, guys.”

  “Nice footwear.” Sebastian pointed at my legs, and I could feel the boys muffling their giggles against my shins.

  “These things? I only wear them around the house.” I tried knocking AJ and Sam together, but I couldn’t get my knees close enough. I gave up. “Vinay, I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Yeah.” He shuffled his sneakers on the uneven porch. “I’m a buffer or something in case you were still pissed at my dickhead friend here.” He jerked his thumb in Sebastian’s direction.

  “Dickhead?” said AJ, taking his face away from my leg.

  “Oh, whoa, sorry, little dude. Don’t, like, repeat that to your mom or dad.” Vinay’s cheeks turned red under his tan skin.

  “They’re parrots. They repeat everything,” I said.

  “They’re parrots. They repeat everything,” Sam said.

  “Well, I know for a fact that parrots are very ticklish.” Julia bent down and went right for where AJ’s T-shirt had rolled up, exposing his stomach. He started laughing so hard he was snorting as he lost his grip on my leg and fell on his back on the porch. Julia then tickled Sam until he, too, was rolling on the floor, begging her to stop.

  When she finally did, the boys looked up at her from their splayed positions, absolute adoration on their faces.

  “Your coat has holes in it,” Sam said, pointing up at Julia’s jacket.

  “Sam, that’s—”

  Julia interrupted me. “That’s because the witch who gave it to me put magic in the holey parts.”

  AJ turned over on his stomach, pushing the front of his body up so he looked up at Julia. “I like your coat. Will you marry me?”

  Julia laughed her champagne laugh, and for the first time since Sebastian had asked me if they could visit I felt the knot in my stomach relax. “You guys want to come in? Dinner will be ready soon.”

  The boys latched on to Julia, one on each arm, pulling her into the TV room. Vinay followed. Sebastian waited until the others were inside, and as he came through the doorway, he kissed me, sending warmth from my lips to the tips of my toes.

  “Hi,” he whispered, his lips still by my ear.

  I shivered. “Hi.”

  He squeezed my hand and followed me inside.

  AJ insisted on sitting next to Julia. Sebastian was next to me. Vinay ended up next to my dad, who barely said three words the entire dinner. All I caught of the one-sided conversation was a series of “likes” and “whoas” and “awesomes.” I was too busy trying to keep Sam’s hands off Sebastian’s plate and AJ’s hands off Julia so she could eat to tell Vinay to talk about baseball or power tools if he wanted a response.

  The casserole wasn’t Melissa’s worst, and that was something to be grateful for. Everyone politely chewed, politely complimented her cooking, and politely drank a lot of water. No one had seconds.

  The party was officially over after Sam and AJ had licked the frosting off of all eighteen candles and the elastics on the cardboard hats they insisted we all wear started to break.

  As soon as Melissa began clearing the plates and covering what was left of the lopsided cake, AJ and Sam started tugging on Julia to go play in the sandpit in the backyard.

  “Guys. Guys! My friends and I are going to go for a drive. Maybe go to the old ski lodge. You’ll see them when we get back.” I tried to unpeel their fingers from Julia’s arms.

  “But . . .” Sam’s face fell, but his grip didn’t ease.

  “You know who’s fantastic in a sandpit?” Julia bent down so she was Sam’s height.

  “Who?”

  “Sebastian.”

  Sam looked up at Sebastian, then at Julia, his mouth twisted as if he was still waiting for the punch line.

  “No, really,” said Julia. “We used to build these huge sand castles on our beach and Sebastian was always chief architect.” Julia peered over her shoulder at Sebastian, who was standing close enough for me to feel his sleeve against the inside of my wrist.

  Sebastian shifted, his fingers brushing mine. “Well yeah, I think Charlie and I are—”

  “Okay.” Sam interrupted him, nodding solemnly. He let go of Julia and grabbed Sebastian’s hand. “You can be the triceratops.”

  “You can play, too.” AJ patted Vinay’s arm. “I like you.”

  “Eh bien.” Julia clapped her hands. “I guess Charlie and I are off for some girl time. Let’s go.” She didn’t wait for a response. Just disappeared out the front door.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouthed at Sebastian as Sam tugged him toward the back.

  “You can be a triceratops, which means you have three horns, but I get to be the T. rex, which means I can eat you,” I heard Sam explaining, just before Julia and I climbed in the truck.

  I parked as close to the Wycliffe Mountain ski lodge as possible. The truck was the only car in the lot, which was more dirt and piles of rocks and broken branches than asphalt. The owners had gone bankrupt when I was in middle school, and the place had been left to nature and partiers ever since.

  When we slammed our doors shut, the sound echoed off the mountains. It took Julia and me ten minutes to hike up to the top of the first trail, following a path of faded beer cans and deep snowmobile ruts, and another few minutes to figure out how to scramble into one of the rusty ski lift buckets without landing in a patch of lingering snow. Spring always came late in the north.

  Once we were rocking back and forth, Julia leaned against the far side of the bucket and put her legs across my thighs. “C’est le bonheur.” She closed her eyes and tilted back her head. “It smells like floor cleaner up here.”

  I pretended to shove her legs off my lap. “Those are pine trees!”

  She opened her eyes and lowered her head. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. J’adore nettoyer le plancher.” She dug a heel into the side of my leg for emphasis. “This is nice. Just me. Just you. I never get you to myself anymore.”

  “It’s always me and you, Julia. Contra mundum. I promised you that doesn’t change.” I slid my hands over the safety bar we had ducked under to get in the bucket until they were as cold as the metal. “You showed me your hiding place. This is mine.”

  “Contra mundum,” she repeated, dropping her legs and sitting up so our sides were touching, our legs dangling into space over the edge of the seat. “So your place is a chapel, too.”

  I paced my legs so they kicked out in time with hers. I never thought of it that way, but Julia was right. This was my chapel. The mountains, which were capped with snow even in August, were my altar. The place where the top of the evergreens met the sky was as stunning as s
tained glass. The ski lift was my pew. It was where I came after I got into St. Anne’s and had to decide whether or not I could ever leave.

  The ski lodge was where I thought about the past and daydreamed about the future, but it took Julia saying so for me to realize it was holy.

  Julia tapped my foot with her own. “So, your folks are très, très nice.”

  “Yeah. I think I’ll keep them.” I pressed my cold hands to my cheeks.

  “I was just wondering how much you told them about us?”

  “Who?”

  “Your parents.”

  “No, I meant who did I tell them about?” I said.

  “Us. Us. How much have you told them about the Great Buchanans.” Julia waved her arms in the exaggerated motion of a conductor starting a concert.

  I stopped swinging my legs. “Well they know Sebastian is my boyfriend. And that you’re my best friend and that your family is wicked generous.” I nudged her with my shoulder. “Actually, Melissa feels bad that Sophie gives us so many care packages. She’s threatened to send homemade cookies.”

  Julia didn’t smile.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She pressed her hands between her legs, looking down like a person in prayer. “It’s just the parties. Mummy and Boom doing whatever obsessive thing they’re doing with the foundation—it’s not real. It’s just what we do to try to forget. It was nice today to be your best friend Julia and not Julia Buchanan.”

  I glanced down at the ground, noticing how the melting snow had formed a barrier around a small pool of water beneath our seat. If it had been a little deeper, perhaps I could have seen my face in the reflection. I turned back to her and nodded. “Yeah, it was nice.”

  Julia looked up from her lap. “Let’s go away.”

  “Where? I promised Melissa I’d babysit for the rest of the break.”

  “No.” She laughed. “I don’t mean now, now. After graduation, let’s travel. Only the two of us. We can go wherever for however long we want. Just being Julia and Charlie, les grandes aventurières.”

  I shifted into the corner of the lift, so I could look at her straight on. “Are you being serious? What about Wellesley? What about RISD? If I even get in.”