by J. J. Howard
“No, Lexi,” I heard him say, and his voice sounded sure. “I don’t want us to see each other anymore.”
I nodded, eyes still on the poster. “I understand,” I heard myself say. “Good-bye, then, Nick. Thanks for finding my mom.”
I turned around to leave, but he didn’t let me. He pulled me back against him and hugged me, hard. So then I did cry. I leaned back, far enough to look in his eyes. I saw the resolve there and knew I wasn’t going to change his mind. I pulled away, opened the door, and walked out of the office, and then straight toward the door of the club. I felt Eli’s hand grab mine and saw Jamie out of the corner of my eye. They walked with me out of Nick’s club and into the night. Callie was already standing on the sidewalk, a small suitcase beside her.
“Are you ready to go home?” Jamie asked me.
I didn’t know whether home was the motel room with the seagulls or my room in Lina’s trailer back in Frostproof, but either way, I was ready. I nodded and let my weird little family take me away from the street in Miami where my heart had been broken twice in one night.
Frostproof, Florida — Monday, December 20
I knocked on Lina’s trailer door since I had a long-lost mother in tow. But she didn’t hear, so I let myself in. She and Liska were watching Elf — Lina lying on the couch and Liska on the floor.
“So, I went to Miami,” I announced.
“Yeah, got your note,” Lina said, not looking up.
“And I sort of found my mom.” That got their attention. “Lina and Liska, this is my mother.”
“Hi,” Callie said, giving a little wave.
Liska scrambled to her feet, and Lina sat up. I saw Liska locate the remote and hit the mute button. “It’s nice to meet you,” the sisters said almost in unison.
“Um, Lex? How did you get to Miami?” Lina asked. “And, uh, why was your mom there?”
“It’s a long story,” I told her. “Callie is going to stay for a … bit. If that’s okay. Can you think of a place …?”
“She can sleep here,” Lina said. “I can sleep at Liska’s.”
“No, I don’t want —” I began.
“I don’t want to put you out,” Callie said at the same time.
“No worries.” Lina flopped back down on the couch and unmuted the TV. “Why don’t you show your mom around?” She laughed then at Will Ferrell attacking the department store Santa, and I led Callie out of the trailer. In the off-season, these energetic circus people were seriously dedicated to the pursuit of the couch-and-remote lifestyle.
I was showing Callie the ring when we ran into Louie.
“You!” he said to her. “I know you. From the show people, right?”
Callie nodded. “Yes, Mr. Vrana. It’s good to see you again.”
I guess Louie had remembered a Callie, after all.
“Louie, please! It’s a shame that all didn’t work out,” he said, shaking his head. Then he seemed to notice me. “I should have remembered — you look so much alike. But you found her anyway. Good for you, Lexi! Such a clever girl, your daughter!”
“I really didn’t do anything,” I mumbled. I mean, I had driven to Miami, but I hadn’t been looking for Callie.
“Will you be here for the holiday, Mrs….?”
“Just call me Callie. And, yes, I’d like to stay, if it’s okay with you.”
“Of course! The more the merrier,” Louie said. “We will see you later!” He clapped Callie on the back, patted my head, and continued on his way.
I turned to Callie. “The show people? So you were here?”
Callie nodded. “For about a week. I was hired to perform in the show — Louie had hired a new director, and he was going to expand that part — I was going to sing and act in the skits. But the first week I was here, Louie and the guy he’d hired had a huge fight, and the guy walked off. And that was the end of that.”
“Well, not entirely,” I said archly. “I mean, here we are.”
“Good point.” Callie laughed.
On Christmas Eve day, Jamie managed to get Lina and Liska unglued from the couch, and the three of them brought Eli and me along on a Walmart run. We found another little tree, and Jamie found strings of one hundred lights for a dollar ninety-nine; he could not be restrained. When we got back he started stringing them everywhere. Lina and Liska brought Callie and me with them to help Louie with the cooking; we helped him make a giant turkey, about five kinds of potatoes, and then sugar cookies.
When I came out of Louie’s trailer, pleasantly tired and smelling of food, I saw that Jamie had rigged up the swings. I’d once told him they were my favorite ride. Jamie was blasting weird indie rock from my iPod out of one of the big Hurricane speakers. Louie didn’t even say anything about the power Jamie was using as he rigged up the big generators.
I sat in the basket seat and watched the trees and Louie’s and Lina’s trailers swing around and around until the landscape was a blur. It was great up here, because the tears didn’t even have a chance to fall down my face; the wind just carried them away.
The speakers were playing Iron & Wine’s “The Trapeze Swinger.” Jamie had scrolled through my songs and picked it — probably for Lina. It was a sad song, and it made me cry even when I wasn’t a heartbroken mess on Christmas. I listened to the words on the super-powered speaker that was designed to be heard over the much-louder Hurricane and a ride full of screaming teenagers: “But please remember me, my misery, and how it lost me all I wanted,” Sam sang, and I cried for what I had never known about my parents, and what I hadn’t even known I’d lost. And I cried for losing and finding Eli again, and for what I had dared to hope for with Nick.
Jamie stopped the ride as the song ended, and I put my feet on the ground. He took one look at my face and said to Eli, “Well, that was an awesome idea.”
We ate outside at the big folding table. Tonight for our Christmas Eve feast, there was lots of extra space, though Louie and his daughters had pretty much covered every inch of the table’s surface with bowls and platters of food. I didn’t notice that the silent Eddie had reappeared until I looked down the table and saw him going to town on a turkey leg.
The night was warm and clear, and the Walmart twinkle lights added a festive air to the party. My Christmas playlist was playing. I sat between Callie and Eli. Lina and Louie were teasing Liska, and their laughter was infectious. I smiled at Callie when she turned to pass me the third kind of potatoes. I didn’t feel normal around her yet. But losing Gavin had led, in a strange and complicated way, to getting her back. It was sort of a Christmas miracle.
I didn’t let myself think too much about what she had told me about my dad. It was exhausting, all this compartmentalizing and managing of my brain. I felt like I could sleep for a week. And all these potatoes and the tryptophan in the turkey were probably not going to help. Then again, sleeping for a week sounded kind of nice. And I was, for the moment, on hiatus.
I heard Jamie’s distinctive laugh and looked up to see him majorly flirting with Lina. I had called that a long time ago.
When most of us were done eating (except Eddie), Jamie stood up and pulled Lina along with him, spinning her around expertly. My mix had landed on “Winter Wonderland” by the Cocteau Twins, and the sweet and ethereal song was perfect for the graceful couple Jamie and Lina made. I laughed as I watched Louie drag his other daughter to her feet, and they joined in, though they made a less well-matched and graceful pair.
Eli stood beside me. “Dance with me, Lexi?” I heard him ask, his voice low.
I turned around to look at him: my best friend. I had really believed I’d lost him forever, that he would remain a sore spot I would have to avoid for the rest of my life. But he had come here to find me, had missed Hanukkah with his own family, and was now here in this field celebrating Christmas with what was left of mine. I took his hand and let him lead me to where the others were dancing.
The song changed, and “Fairytale of New York” by The Pogues came on. Eli took
me carefully in his arms, and I heard him say under his breath, “Perfect.” It’s a sweet-sounding song that takes a dark turn.
We didn’t dance like we were contestants on Dancing with the Stars, like Jamie and Lina, nor as exuberantly as Louie and Liska. It felt strange to raise my arms up to rest on Eli’s shoulders. We hadn’t been that close together since that night. The memory of that night was so intertwined with what had happened later, it was no wonder I had stayed away from him.
“I wasn’t sure you’d say yes,” Eli said, his voice still low in my ear. “Of course, I wasn’t sure you were ever going to talk to me again,” he said, his tone light, though I sensed the tension beneath his words. “It was touch and go there for a while.”
“But you stayed,” I told him. He nodded, but did not speak. Instead, in response he pulled me closer against him, his hands tightening on my waist. I was wearing my little black cotton dress in honor of the occasion, and I had even used Lina’s curling iron to add ringlets to my hair. I thought at the time I’d been trying to get in the holiday spirit by looking pretty for a change. Now I was afraid that wasn’t the only reason. Either some stupid corner of my heart still hoped that Nick would pull one of his sudden appearing acts, or I’d been thinking of Eli. Or worse: both.
Eli pulled me even tighter to him, putting his hand behind my neck and gently resting my head against his chest. I felt my pulse start to race faster. What was the matter with me? Why did Eli still have this effect on me?
I pulled my head from his shoulder, but gently, not breaking away from him, or the spell of the dance, completely. “You broke my heart, you know,” I told him.
He nodded, his jaw tense, his eyes dark on mine. “I broke mine, too, that morning. And then you were gone, and I couldn’t even tell you …” His voice trailed off. I realized all of a sudden that we weren’t dancing anymore, just standing close together, arms around each other. I looked around quickly and saw that everyone else had vanished, back into Louie’s trailer. Jamie had even turned the volume on the music down low.
“Will you ever be able to really forgive me?” he asked me.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “It’s more complicated than that. You left me before I ran out that morning.”
He sighed. “I know,” he said. “At the time, I was stupid. I wanted both of you.” His voice had dropped so low, I almost couldn’t hear him.
“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” I said dryly, deliberately lightening the mood a little, and at the same time reminding him that since he’d been out of the picture there had been someone else for me, too.
“We can’t stay here forever,” he said.
“I know,” I told him. “But New York isn’t home in the way it used to be. Things won’t ever be the same again — for me, at least.”
“But the city’s still your home,” he pressed. “You can still go to college, like you planned. Callie will help you — and I’ll help you.”
I nodded, feeling hollow. There were two holes in my chest now. The one I had been carrying around since Gavin died seemed to have expanded. And then there was the one Nick Tarus had made.
“I don’t know what I want to do,” I heard myself tell Eli. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
Eli drew me close again for a hug. I guess he looked at his watch, too, because he told me, “Hey — it’s midnight.” I looked up at him, and he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Lexi.” And we started dancing again.
Frostproof, Florida — Saturday, January 1
I knew I couldn’t hide out with Louie, Lina, and Liska forever, not now that my mom was back in the picture. I had a prepaid semester of Sheldon to claim, now that I had a legal guardian in tow. And after that, college.
Knowing I had to leave didn’t make it any easier. Lina had tears in her eyes, though she didn’t let go of Jamie’s hand as she hugged me good-bye outside Eli’s car.
“I will miss you, my second sister,” she told me. “You will always have a home here if you want one.”
Then she made fun of me for crying; but her words had touched a nerve. A home: That’s what she and Louie and Liska had given me, when I didn’t have one and needed one so desperately. I sniffed hard, trying to get control of my tears.
“This isn’t good-bye,” I told her. “Louie promised I could have my job back this summer,” I reminded her. College wasn’t prepaid, and Callie didn’t have a steady job yet, so I knew I would need a summer job, and being able to come back at the end of the semester seemed like the perfect solution.
Jamie presented me with the Miami tree as we were leaving. I accepted it happily, especially since it was still decorated with most of my jewelry. “Be good in the big bad city,” he told me.
Liska hugged me and told me to be careful, too, and that she looked forward to seeing me in the summer. When she pulled away from me, her eyes were wet, but Lina didn’t tease her, wisely. Lina and I exchanged a look over Liska’s head, and Lina said, “I told you so,” about her sister who I had once thought was so cold.
In the car, I sat in the backseat with Callie. It was a little awkward at first, but then we all started eating snacks and drinking sodas, and I felt myself loosen up, remembering how it used to feel to be with her. She seemed so familiar — and she looked so much like me, it was hard to feel awkward for long around her. Callie hadn’t brought up Gavin again, which under the circumstances suited me just fine. Eli was quiet, for Eli, in the front, but was acting silly along with us by the time we pulled into the huge airport parking lot.
“Why are we flying again when we have a car?” I asked as Eli parked.
“Because my aunt lives in Orlando, and I’m selling her the car,” he told me. “My uncle’s gonna drive her here to pick it up. And because class starts the day after tomorrow.” He caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. “You do remember school?”
“Vaguely,” I said with asperity. “I can’t see what the rush is; I’ve already missed, um, the entire year.”
“Exactly,” he told me. “If you have any hope of graduating, you have to be there for all of second semester. As it is you’ll be doubling up with the courses you missed first term.”
“Ugh.” I sat back against the seat. “What about you?” I challenged. “You missed some, too.”
“I was there for most of it,” he told me. “I think I can go back and take the finals and be okay.”
“You suck,” I told him as Callie and I climbed out of the backseat.
“I know,” he smiled, grabbing my worldly goods and hoisting them on his back as he shut the trunk.
Eli bought me a mocha from Starbucks and sat down beside me in the chairs at the gate. “Where’s Callie?” he asked.
“Calling somebody,” I said. “She’s trying to figure out where we’re going to live. She hasn’t said anything, but I don’t think that she’s exactly New York real estate flush.”
“I know, that’s why I gave up the car,” Eli said. I looked at him in surprise. “I mean, who can afford a car in New York?” he asked, and I realized I had misunderstood. For a minute there, I’d been worried that he meant he planned to give us the money toward our housing dilemma. “I’d say you could stay with us,” he went on, “but I’m not too sure I’m even going to be allowed back home. And under the circumstances —”
“I get it,” I stopped him, pulling the lid off my mocha and taking my first sip.
“Why do you always pull the lid off?” Eli asked.
“I like the foam,” I told him. “So, Callie and I are going to live in maybe, like, Brooklyn,” I warned him. “I’d say that’s best-case scenario.”
“And Jersey City is worst-case?”
“Hope not.” I laughed. “We are such snobs.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s our birthright. But don’t worry — I’ll take the train, or the PATH train, whatever. We’ll still see each other.” He looked at me. “That is, if you want to see me.”
I met his eyes. “I want to,” I told
him. It was getting easier to see him and not think of all the bad stuff. And right then, I thought of something — of someone — I had managed almost, to my shame, to forget.
“Oh my God — Bailey!” I sat up, splashing a little mocha on myself.
“I told you not to take the lid off,” Eli said, his face unreadable.
I ignored that comment. “Eli, we can’t hang out together at school. It’s too mean. We’ve already been awful enough —”
“Lex, it’s okay,” he said. “Bailey transferred to Sidwell.”
I slumped in my seat, more relieved than I had a right to be. “I shouldn’t feel happy about that. I’m a horrible person.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m pretty sure I am. But I’m also pretty sure I can’t ever make this up to her. And that maybe if I apologized it would just bring it all back for her. I think the nicest thing I can do for her now is never see her again. Is that being selfish?”
“Wouldn’t you feel better if you could apologize to her?”
I thought about that. “Maybe. But I still don’t think it’s right — not now.”
“Then you’re being the opposite of selfish. It’s going to be hard enough for you to go back there, I know. You sort of need one thing, at least, to be easier. And I know for a fact that she’s happier never seeing my face again, so it all works out.”
“Yeah, it all works out,” I said, my voice a little flat, as I watched Callie walking toward us. If only it didn’t all work out so that everybody’s heart got broken.
“Happy New Year!” The perky flight attendant smiled at me as I shuffled off the plane. One of the flight crew — maybe the captain, maybe not, but he looked a little like a Ken doll come to life — added his own “Happy New Year” in a husky voice. I didn’t take it personally. He had flirted with every other passenger — he was clearly one of those people who flirted as often as they breathed.