Here's to You, Zeb Pike

by Johanna Parkhurst

  I tap my fork against my plate and decide to tell him the truth. “Honestly?”

  “Yeah. Honestly.”

  I shrug. “I think… I didn’t want to need your help, or permission, or something. I didn’t want to need anything from you.”

  Jack nods slightly, so I keep going. “Plus, I couldn’t figure out why I hit him. I was so mad at you, but when he said that stuff… it just sort of came out.” I thought for a second. “I think I may not have always hated you as much as I thought I did. I just….”

  I can’t seem to finish the sentence. “Still couldn’t figure it all out,” Jack finishes for me lamely.

  “Yeah… maybe. I don’t know. I guess we’ll see.” I don’t want to make any promises I’m not sure I can keep.

  Jack looks like he wants to say something else. Finally, he does. “Dusty, I know you’ve really resisted the idea of counseling, but would you consider it now? I think we all should have some, together. Matt and Julia seem to really benefit from having someone to talk to at their school. I think it would be good for all of us to talk to someone about the changes we’ve been through.”

  It hits me for the first time that Jack and Beth had their lives uprooted almost us much as the three of us did when we showed up on their doorstep. I’m still not sure how I feel about having to talk to someone about my feelings all the time—it was hard enough to do it with Emmitt on Halloween and with Jack today. But I don’t want to ruin this decent moment Jack and I are having together, so I just say, “I’ll think about it.”

  It’s after Jack’s paid the bill and we’re walking around Times Square again that Jack mentions something I’ve been trying not to think about. “Emmitt… he was really upset when you ran off. More upset than I’ve ever seen him. Dusty, is everything okay between the two of you?”

  I’m about to brush the question off with a quick “yeah” when Jed’s words about changing directions come to mind. I still don’t know if I really trust Jack, but this seems like a pretty solid way to find out. I’ll never know if I don’t give him the chance.

  Plus, I have a weird feeling he won’t let me down this time.

  I concentrate hard on staring at a billboard in front of me. We’re walking toward the ToysRUs store, because Jack said we need to take pictures of the giant Lego buildings for Matt and Julia (it sounds like he already promised to take them there someday), and there are people milling all around us. “Jack, I kissed him. And he kissed me. I guess… I guess I’m gay.” It feels so strange to say that out loud… but not exactly wrong.

  “Oh.” Jack looks surprised but not stunned. He barely misses a beat, though, before he says, “Are you guys together?”

  “Nah. He… didn’t want to be. Said we can’t be. That’s probably also a little bit why I left.”

  Jack stops and tugs on my jacket sleeve until I stop too. He turns me so I’m looking directly at him. “Did your parents know?”

  I scoff. “Jack, I wasn’t even sure until Emmitt. I mean, I always knew something was different, but I didn’t know for sure. Now I do.”

  “Oh.” He smiles. “Dusty, Emmitt’s a good kid. He’ll do the right thing. If you like him and he likes you, I really don’t think he’ll let you down. You just may have to wait for him to figure out how to handle this. And just for the record… I’m really glad you told me. Thank you.”

  That’s great and all, it really is, but it’s not quite the biggest thing on my mind. “What if he doesn’t? What if… what if he never figures it out?”

  He puts his arm around my shoulder and starts leading me back up the street. “Then I’ll kick ’im off my team.”

  THE SUNLIGHT spins lazily in the windows as I squint up. I’m in the attic room, closed inside the blue walls, and I’m surprised at how tired I still feel after sleeping most of the day. I didn’t sleep much on the train last night, so Jack let me take another day off from school. I am so not looking forward to my waiting pile of makeup work.

  I go downstairs for some juice and find Beth in the kitchen reading the newspaper. She’s not smiling, but she isn’t frowning either. I wonder what my facial expression looks like. “Look who finally woke up,” she says. “Do you want something to eat?”

  “Sure.”

  She bustles around the kitchen, putting together soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Nobody’s made me a grilled cheese sandwich in a long time—except maybe cafeteria workers. “Thanks,” I say as she sets it down in front of me.

  She disappears out of the room for a few minutes and returns with a large, red bag. “Jack and I got you something. I guess it’s a welcome home present.”

  Who knew you can actually get presents for running away. I pull two boxes out and open them one at a time. Hockey skates are in one, and there is a brand-new skateboard in the other. “Uhh… thanks, I guess. I mean, thanks.” I don’t know what to say. The skateboard is the first one I’ve ever owned. It’s perfect.

  “Dusty… do you know why Jack and I never had any kids?” Beth’s talking again, so I rip my eyes away from the skateboard to meet hers.

  “I dunno,” I say.

  Beth nods, a half-smile crossing her lips. “We couldn’t. It was all I ever wanted, all Jack ever wanted. But I can’t. It’s all me, Dusty. I’m the reason we can’t have kids.” Her eyes wander to the window, and I follow her gaze to the mountains there.

  “Did you try adoption?” I ask.

  She turns. “Yeah. But it’s a long process. We were right in the middle of it when who should call us but someone saying we had two nephews and a niece who needed a place to live.”

  She smiles at me. “Dusty, I think you’re a great kid. What you did for your brother and sister all those years….” She shakes her head. “It’s amazing to me. I’m not trying to take any of that away from you. All I want is for you not to have to do that anymore.”

  “Yeah,” I say, glancing over at my first skateboard and my first pair of ice skates. “Yeah.” But that’s all I can seem to get out.

  Beth sits back on the edge of her chair. “Dusty, who did things for you? Who did all the things for you that you’ve been doing for Matt and Julia? Who even taught you how to do laundry and cook? Who took care of you when you were sick?”

  It’s honestly hard to remember. “I guess Mom when she was home…. When she wasn’t… I just sorta survived, I guess. You know me. Get through anything.”

  Beth shrugs and stars clearing plates. “Maybe, Dusty,” she smiles, “life could be about more than just surviving.”

  That’s about as much talking about all this as I can take in twenty-four hours, so I decide another nap is in order. I wake even later in the afternoon to Matt jumping up and down next to me, with Jules hugging me desperately around the neck. “You came home! You came home!” Matt is shouting.

  Home. I guess that’s what these people and this scenery are now.

  Matt laughs at something I can’t—or don’t—see. “We missed you! Where did you go?”

  Julia lies down and settles under the crook of my arm. Matt sits down on the bed next to her, hands propping up his chin. They both wait patiently for my answer. “Well, I thought maybe I’d try to find Mom.”

  Julia looks confused. “Oh…. I thought Beth was our new mom.”

  Matt shakes his head. “’Course not, Julia. We still have our real mom too. Beth’s just a replacement.” He rolls his eyes at me as if to say, Duh!

  “Well, Matt….” I take a deep breath. “I’m starting to think maybe Julia’s right. Maybe it’s about time you guys started thinking of Beth like a mom.”

  Matt is obviously surprised. “But I thought you didn’t like Beth.” Julia bobs her head in agreement.

  I shift uncomfortably. “Well, I’m going to try to.” I decide to leave it at that, because that is as simple as it is.

  Matt frowns. “Yeah, that’s good. I mean, Mom’s always gone anyway…. I don’t really remember what she looks like very well.” He squints up toward the ceiling. “She had b
londe hair, right?”

  He barely remembers what she looks like. I hardly have time to process that before there is some creaking on the stairs, and Beth appears in the doorway. “Hey, guys, it’s time for dinner.”

  Matt stands up and whoops loudly. “Meatloaf night!” He starts doing some ridiculous dance that I can only assume he learned from some TV show or something. “I love meatloaf… bring your beefloaf… let’s get some meatloaf….”

  And suddenly, I’m really happy I ended up back in this house.

  “DUSTY, CATCH your edge, man.”

  I feel myself falling, but there is nothing I can do to stop it. The board is flipping under me. I hit the sidewalk hard, scrapes instantly forming on my bare palms as I plant them down to catch myself. I curse loudly, and Casey smacks his board hard against the ground, carefully bracing his knees before he makes contact. Skateboarding with him isn’t doing much for my self-esteem.

  At least it’s less weird than hanging out with his brother. Emmitt and I haven’t talked about anything that matters—at least to me—since I came back to school a few days ago. He’s polite and all, always talks to me at the lunch table, but that’s it. He seems pretty okay with pretending that nothing ever happened between us, which I guess proves that Jack really doesn’t know everything.

  I pull my jacket closer to my body. There’s already some snow on the ground now, and even Casey the skateboarding maniac is going to have to give up boarding at the park pretty soon. “Geez,” I say again, shuffling over to a swing set and leaning on it. “I haven’t even had any real chances to practice, and it’s already winter.”

  Casey shrugs and does a kick flip. “So? Doesn’t mean you can’t still keep practicing. I ice skate in the winter to keep my balance strong and stay in shape.”

  “Really? I thought you gave up ice skating a long time ago.”

  Casey concentrates hard on another kick flip as he shakes his head. “Nah. I gave up hockey a long time ago. But skating I will never give up. It’s the reason I have such great balance on a board.” He lands the trick, smacking into the ground with a kind of strange finesse I can only admire. “Really. You should ask Jack for a pair of ice skates.”

  I pull my board up to try another trick. “No sweat. I already have some.”

  “Good.” Casey goes up for another trick. “Emmitt and I will take you to the rink Saturday. He’s practicing like crazy now that the hockey season started anyway, and he will never forgive me if I try to teach you to skate without him.” He lands the trick perfectly, smiling the whole time, and I don’t have the heart to tell him that I think Emmitt would probably be just fine with me learning to skate on my own.

  I’VE BEEN wrong about a lot of things lately, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised when Casey calls me up on Friday night to tell me that Emmitt’s really excited to go the rink with us the next day. I finally decide that either Emmitt’s just trying to be nice or he doesn’t want Casey to catch on that something’s weird between me and him.

  Jack drops me off. Within twenty minutes Casey’s disappeared to hit on some figure skater, and I’m making a total ass of myself by trying to skate in front of Emmitt.

  “I guess this really is your first time skating,” Emmitt says as I try to figure out how to get to my feet on two crazy thin pieces of metal. Who invented this stupid sport, anyway? I grab hold of the wall, begging for it to help me.

  “Shut up.” I scowl at Emmitt, who’s smiling as he skates backward. “C’mon, is anybody good at this the first time?” I finally get to my feet and propel myself forward, one foot at a time. I’ve only been on ice skates for two minutes, for cripes sake. Besides, it’s already getting easier.

  Emmitt is watching my feet with great interest. “Actually, Dusty, you’re catching on to it really quickly. Maybe you’ll be another skating prodigy, like Casey.” He jerks his arm toward the other end of the ring where Casey is literally skating in circles around the figure skater, probably trying to convince her to go out with him. It doesn’t look like it’s going very well.

  By now I’ve actually managed to glide forward, one skate edging into the ice at a time. Emmitt grins, impressed, and despite everything, that’s all it takes to make me break into a grin. “Dude, that’s way better. Coach must’ve passed it in the genes.”

  “Oh, he’s that good, huh? I thought he was just a high school coach.”

  Emmitt slices his skates through the ice and stops to stare at me. “What? Just a high school coach? Did you know that Coach Morton almost single-handedly won Colby three state championships when he went to school here?”

  Jack had? Really? “Nah, I didn’t know that,” I respond. “He was pretty good?”

  “Good?” Emmitt looks incredulous. “Dusty, do you know anything about your uncle? He won all the high school MVP awards and had like a zillion college scholarship offers. He’s a legend in this town—he was supposed to be famous.”

  How did I not know any of this? Then again, Jack and I never talk about either his life or Beth’s. I don’t know much about either one of them. “So what happened? He didn’t make it to the NHL?”

  Emmitt shakes his head. “Nah, he would’ve made it. He took a scholarship to Boston University. Your grandparents died in that car crash right after he went off to college, so he came back to take care of his little sister.” He looks me right in the eye. “Your mom, I guess.”

  I stop skating and grab the wall for balance again, trying not to let it show how much that information floors me. My mom has always just told me her parents were dead. She’s never mentioned that they died when she was so young, or that her brother basically raised her. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, since she never even told me she had a brother. Still, it stings a little. Why didn’t she ever tell us anything about her—our—family?

  I manage to get my balance back, and we skate quietly for a few more moments before Emmitt looks at me, biting his lip. “Dusty, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Do we mind if we give up skating and go sit in my truck or something?”

  It’s freezing outside, but I’m so curious to hear what Emmitt has to say that I’d probably sit in the arctic tundra with him.

  “Sure.”

  We head outside in silence and keep up that silence while the truck warms up. I’m starting to wonder if this conversation is actually ever going to happen by the time he starts talking. “Dusty, I wanted to tell you that I’m really glad you came back. I was so mad when you left. Pissed at you for taking off without telling me, pissed at me for handling our whole thing the way I did.” He starts rubbing his hands together, almost as if he’s trying to keep them warm, despite the fact that’s he’s wearing thick mittens. “I mean, I really screwed that up.”

  Now he turns to face me, and I’m glad the truck is parked in a far-off corner of the parking lot where no one can see us, because anyone who can see his face right now would know for sure there’s something between us. “I’m still not sure what I want, but you leaving… it showed me that I definitely want to be with you. I missed you, Dusty. I was really worried about you. I wanted to go to New York with Jack and find you, and then I wanted to come see you the second you got back. It really wrecked me that I couldn’t do any of those things. It really wrecked me that I might be part of the reason you left.”

  I don’t really want to tell him he’s exactly right on that point, so I don’t. “I want… I mean, I think you know what I want, Emmitt. But what about… everything else?”

  The truck’s pretty warm now, so he takes off his hat and runs his hands over his hair. “I still don’t think I’m ready for the whole school to know or anything. I wish I was, I really do, Dusty. That’s too much for me right now. But I’d like to hang out with you even more at school, and after school, and on the weekends. And….” He pulls off a mitten and raises a hand, places it against my cheek. “When it’s just us, I’d like to be able to do whatever we want.”

  My heart’s going a million miles an hour, and blood i
s pumping into areas of my body that really aren’t appropriate to mention here, and all I want to do is lean in and make out with him. But if we’re going to do this, I’ve got to be totally honest with him.

  “I sort of told Jack. About me. About us. He was fine with it,” I quickly blurt out.

  Emmitt blushes, but he doesn’t take his hand off my cheek. “I sort of told Casey too. He was way better about it than I thought he would be. I think… I think he’s even happy for me. Or he will be.”

  That settled, he leans over, and I’m pretty sure he’s about to kiss me. Because nobody else is around, and we can finally do whatever we want.

  Chapter 9

  ONE AND a Half Years Earlier

  Dusty’s dad hugged him hard and patted him on the back. “That should get you guys through for a while. It’ll at least pay the rent. Tell your mom I said hi, okay?” His voice went stiff, and Dusty wondered when his parents had last actually talked to each other.

  “Sure, Dad.” They were sitting on a bench in Acacia Park, looking at the mah-jongg court in front of them. “Uh, thanks for the money. Do you want to come back with me and see Matt and Julia? They miss you.”

  His dad stood and stretched. “Nah, not today. Not while your mom’s there. I’ll stop by sometime after school while she’s at work or something.”

  Dusty had to stop himself from snorting. Lately his mother hadn’t been spending too much time at work; Dusty had finally agreed to go beg their dad for money when he realized they were about to miss paying rent again.

  “Anyway, Dusty, Charlie and I got something to do this afternoon. I’ll come by later this week, okay?” He hugged Dusty, and Dusty didn’t even make the snide remark he wanted to make about not holding his breath. “That’s my little Dusty-mop.” Dusty half-groaned, half-smiled at his father’s old nickname for him. His father had never liked the name Dustin very much—his mother had chosen it—and he’d always called him either Dusty or that crazy nickname.