“You know what it’s for. You told Connie you were in love with me!” He looked confused, his face still stinging from the slap. “Answer me, Parker or so help me, I will slap your face right off your stupid head.” He held up his hands in defense and took a step back.
“OK, OK, yes, I told Connie I was in love with you.”
“Why ever would you do something that selfish, you miserable—?” She stopped herself.
“Because it’s true, Anne,” he fumbled. “I told you I’m in love with you, and you said you loved me.”
“Loved, Parker, and I also said—”
“I don’t fucking care!” he shouted, catching her off guard. “You love me, and you want to go with me. You’re just afraid to admit it because of Connie. Well, Connie’s out of the picture now, so you can be with me. That’s why I told her.”
He stepped back, anticipating another slap, but Annie just shook her head, then collapsed into a chair. He stepped toward her, but she held up a hand, stopping him. She sat for a long time, her face in her hands, her mind racing. How can I make this right? How can I fix—? Suddenly, she looked up at him.
“You know what? I don’t need to fix this. It’s not my problem. I told you last night, but just like everybody else, you don’t think you have to listen to me. I don’t love you. I don’t want to go anywhere with you, and right this minute, I don’t even like you.”
“Annie—”
“You shut up and listen for once in your life. I’ve said for years and years that I’m happy here. This is where I’ll stay, and no one is going to make me change my mind, let alone you. Just because that doesn’t suit your plans, or solve Connie’s desperate need to get away, doesn’t make it my problem to fix. I am not leaving, and I do not love you, and that’s it. Now—”
“But I thought—”
“Never mind what you thought. You need to make a choice. You can choose to really hear me this time, go apologize to Connie, tell her you’re all stressed out, or whatever lame thing you want to say, and then suck it up. For three months. That’s all. Either do that or... I don’t know what or is. I suppose you could live in your little fantasy, and make everybody miserable until you haul your selfish…ass…out of town. You think you’ll leave us all devastated and sad when you go? Not me. You can’t do a thing to me anymore, because I do not love you, and I’m never going anywhere with you. So it’s your choice, Parker Levitt. But it’s not my problem.” She stood with hands on hips, waiting. He looked at her for a moment, then something changed in his eyes. He straightened, then combed his hair back with his fingers.
“Okay, I get it. You’re scared. That’ll change, I know it will. And you know what? I’ll wait. I can, and I will.” Annie was floored. Was he deaf?
“I’m…you’re...” She snatched up her backpack. “You’re unbelievable, Parker. Just unbelievable.” She turned on her heel. He followed.
“What are you going to tell Connie?” he asked. Unbelievable… She spun on him.
“I’m going to tell her good riddance! I’m going to tell her what a stupid, selfish little boy you are. That she can do better than you. And if getting out of town is so important to her, I’ll give her every penny I have been saving all my life so she can get away from this town, this life and you.” She stormed off. He shouted after her.
“She’s the problem, Annie! Connie’s the problem. She ruined everything…for us!” She stopped, then turned slowly to face him from a distance.
“No, Parker,” she said levelly. “You are the problem. And if you don’t make this right, you’ll destroy Connie, but you won’t destroy me.” With that she left him alone.
“Done,” she said to herself, crossing the field toward home.
Done, she punctuated in her thoughts. I’m putting this entire nightmare behind me.
12
“I kissed him twice. I held his hand, and I kissed him twice.”
Connie sat quietly, looking at the ground. Annie braced for something. What exactly, she didn’t know.
“He’s a good kisser,” Connie said finally, looking at her. “Don’t you think so?” Annie blinked.
“Well, I—”
“Oh, wait, that’s right. You have nothing to compare it to, do you? You’ve never really kissed anyone, have you? Except my boyfriend,” she sneered. “Well, I’ll tell you, Annie. I’ll help you out here. Parker Levitt is a great kisser. He is one fabulous, amazing kisser. And do you know what else he is? Huh, Annie? Do you?”
“No.” Except Annie knew exactly where Connie was going, but she wasn’t going to make things worse, not if she could help it.
“He’s good in bed.” Connie spat, then smirked. “He kisses better in bed than he kisses with clothes on.” Annie felt slapped. “Of course, you won’t know what that’s like for a long, long time, will you? And even when you do find out, you still won’t get it. You know why? Huh, Annie?” Annie shook her head. “Because you’re only going to sleep with one guy—one guy, that’s it—in your entire life. That’s all you’ll ever get. You’ll spend the rest of your life with one guy’s dick, and you’ll have no idea if it’s good or bad, but that won’t matter, will it? As long as you’re ‘happy,’” Connie made quotation marks in the air. “And ‘secure’ and ‘right here in Rockland’ with a couple of snot-nosed kids and a sappy-happy hubby, you won’t care.” Connie leered, her eyes slits. When Annie didn’t respond, Connie continued.
“That’s fine for you, isn’t it, little Annie Stewart? You with your pathetic little life and your pathetic little husband and ‘security.’ But I’m getting out. And I’m getting out with Parker.” Connie finally ran out of steam and looked off, across the lake, into her future, secure now that she had Parker back. “Parker,” she muttered, “that coward, that jerk, that...boy. Do you know what he did after he talked to you?” Connie glared, expecting a response.
“No.”
“He apologized. What nerve! He said he was ‘stressed,’” Connie started with the air quotes again, “and this—this is classic—he said you made the move on him. He said you lied about reading the book, that you pretended to ‘understand,’ pretended to ‘love it.’ He said you lied to him just to steal him away from me.”
“Connie, I—”
“Don’t Connie me, you little… Sure as hell you did, but don’t you worry about it, Annie. I forgave him, Annie. I told him everything would be fine, Annie. I told him, ‘don’t worry any about it, honey.’ And then I called you, and you have the nerve to sit here on this beach and ‘confess.’ But I don’t believe you. I’ll never believe you, you lying…”
Of course, she can’t believe me. If Connie believed what really happened, she would have to let Parker go, and give up her surefire way out of Rockland. Annie knew this from the start with Parker. But she had to come clean with Connie, if only for the sake of her own sanity.
“But it’s confession time for something else, Annie, and you know what it is.”
“I don’t—”
“Yes you do. You saw Parker as a way out, too. The minute he gave you that fucking book, you saw it.” Connie paused to take a breath. Annie prayed it would be over soon. Just sit here, listen, don’t say anything, let Connie get it out. She owed her that, right? Her best friend, trying to steal her boyfriend away? Annie deserved whatever she got, from Connie and everybody else. But as Connie took a breather and stood, glaring down at Annie, weighing the options, Annie knew there was more.
“So here’s the thing,” Connie started up again, taunting Annie with more air quotes. “I used to tell people, ‘oh, she doesn’t really want to stay here,’ and she’s just ‘nervous about leaving.’ I stood up for you. I thought you had so much going for you. We all thought so with your looks, and your brains, and your... Fuck it!” Connie screamed into Annie’s face. “I am not going to flatter you. You don’t deserve it, not anymore. It’s pathetic I have to spell this all out. You’re a cliché…Annie Stewart. A man-stealing, small-minded, small-town fucking cliché.” An
nie wasn’t prepared for that, but she also refused to let it slide by.
“You’re right,” Annie began, her voice low and even. “I am a cliché. But tell me, Connie, what’s your non-cliché reason for wanting out so badly? What exactly is it that’s so awful here?”
“My father raped me.”
Annie didn’t flinch. She just stared back. Under it all, she still respected Connie and knew Connie respected her. But this level of cattiness was dangerous, so because of that respect, Annie knew to wait. Her patience paid off.
“Okay, that’s a lie,” Connie conceded.
“Wow, that’s a terrible lie, Connie.”
“Thanks for the condescension, Annie.” Connie couldn’t resist another barb. “Fine. Do you want the real truth?”
“How would I know it’s not another lie?”
Connie dropped her head, then sat back down next to Annie. She linked her fingers, prayer-like, and took a deep breath.
“One summer, I’d just turned eight and it was my birthday. It was a nice party and all that. I remember the cake—chocolate, with these little clowns hanging from the candles. I managed to get to bed without being told, I was so tired. But in the middle of the night, something woke me up, and then I heard the front door shut. I don’t know what woke me, but I remember the sound of the door very clearly, and I somehow knew what it meant. So I went to my window, and there’s my mother, walking down the sidewalk with a suitcase.” Annie sat very still. This is the real story.
“I followed her. To the train station. She was buying a ticket, and I walked up to her, and I think maybe I tugged her skirt, or maybe I said something. I don’t remember. But I do remember, when she looked down at me, her face… She looked so…defeated. And she was slouched, her shoulders all drooping. I’ve seen that a lot ever since. My dad will say something, and she’ll hunch over, and every time, it’s a little worse. Like she dies inside. And I knew it was him. It was my dad who made her feel that way.” Connie sighed. Annie felt that she should say something so Connie would know she was listening.
“So…what did you do? Your mom’s still there, right?”
“She came back home. With me. She didn’t get on the train to Philadelphia. I didn’t ask then, but she kept the ticket, and I found it later, in the bottom of an old purse she gave me to play with. But anyway, we walked back, and I asked her why she was going. And she said—bless her twisted soul for being honest with an eight-year-old kid—she said, ‘I was running away from you and your sister and brother…and your father.” I asked her why, and she said, ‘because I hate my life.’ Then she said she only came back because I caught her. She wanted just to leave, and let my dad somehow figure it out.”
“She didn’t leave a note?”
“I don’t know. I never asked. But it was like a slap. ‘I’m running away from you.’ I’m the oldest, and…”
“You’re…?”
“An accident? Not exactly. But she had me young, and I guess she regretted it. She’d never tell me, but I know she hated staying. Anyway, back home, she put me to bed and then she whispered, ‘Look at me, Constance, look hard. This is you in a few years.” She fanned her hand over her face, like a model on a game show. ‘This is you, sooner than you know.’ From then on, I noticed, almost every day, something happens, and I see her wince, or she turns away. I watch her shoulders sink, and I hear her sniffling when she thinks I can’t. She gives up a little more—every single day—and I think, I have got to get away from here.”
Annie nodded. “I’m so sorry, Connie.”
“You do believe me, don’t you?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry I never paid attention. I don’t know your mother that well, and she always puts up a happy front, so… I really am sorry, Connie.”
“You mean that, don’t you?” Annie nodded. “You’re not just saying that, playing a game?” Annie shook her head. “OK. Apology accepted.”
Then, of all things, they shook hands. They didn’t hug. It just wasn’t the thing to do at that moment.
“This doesn’t solve the Parker problem, though,” Connie said, her shoulders slumping.
“Look Connie, I told you the truth. I really did, but not because I got caught. I just couldn’t lie to you anymore. It was making me sick. I’m truly sorry for what I did with Parker, but I am being honest when I tell you, I don’t love him. Not anymore. You also need to know—and you won’t like it, but you need to hear it—he doesn’t love you, either.” Connie looked away. Annie shifted her head so she could still see Connie’s eyes. “He isn’t going to take you to New York. He may not even go now. He said he wants to wander around, and write. And he did say he loved me, and part of me believes that. But Connie, you have to know the truth. Parker Levitt isn’t who you think he is, and you’re not going to be able to escape with him.”
Annie stopped there. It was all too much lately. Too much truth, too much tension, and drama, and insanity. Once more, she wished the school year would just end so she could hide in her room for the summer. Then she could commute to school in Davenport, and get her degree, and meet a nice guy, and be done with all of this. She wished they would all leave her little town so she could have some peace again.
All this ran through her mind as she sat silently beside Connie. She assumed Connie was quiet because she couldn’t handle the truth about Parker. Annie felt truly sorry that Connie’s dream was crushed. Finally, Connie broke the silence.
“I know, Annie. I know all of it.” Annie’s eyes grew wide. “I love Parker. As least, I think I do, and I thought... Dammit, Annie, I thought if the sex was good, and if I was good, and if I didn’t push him or... I really thought I could change him and get what I wanted. But I don’t know anymore. Maybe you’re right about staying here, all safe and sound in a little town with a predictable life. But once he got back from New York, he was different. I had no hold anymore, no real control.”
“But, you two are back together, right? So that’s something.”
Connie laughed. “It’s something, alright. We’re back together—that is until you tell him you love him, or he reads another damn book that I can’t fucking understand.” She spat the expletive. “Then he’ll go back to you, or find somebody else. I know it.”
It hurt Annie to hear talk like that. Connie, in spite of all the current weirdness, was her best friend. She had been strong and driven, but now Annie could see she was lost and groping. Connie tried to hide wiping her eyes, pretending she had an itch.
“Connie?”
Connie cleared her throat to hide a sniffle, and then looked at her. “What?”
“I have money.” Connie frowned. “I’ve saved almost every penny I’ve ever earned, close to twelve thousand dollars, and I want you to have it.”
“I don’t… What? You have twelve thousand dollars? I don’t get it. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Connie, after graduation, take the money and go. Go on your own. Don’t wait for Parker, or for anybody, just go. You’re smart, and pretty...you’ll be fine. Take the money and get out of here. I don’t really need it, not like you do. Please. Take it and go.” Connie was stunned. She stared at Annie for a long time.
“Why would you give me…?”
“Because I love you. Because I want you to be happy. Because before Parker Levitt came along, it was you and me and the rest of the girls, and everything was… Just take it.”
“I don’t know, Annie…”
“Yes, you do. And to prove it, never mind waiting for graduation. Come on. The bank’s still open.” Annie stood up and held out her hand.
“Annie, I don’t know—”
“Yes, you do. You know this is a good idea. It may be the best idea I’ve ever had, so come on. I’ll have them cut a teller’s check, or whatever they call it, enough at least for you to start, maybe buy a ticket to somewhere and go think things through. Then you can plan whatever you want, whenever you want. You’re going to have your dream, Connie, and it’s on me.”
&n
bsp; This time, Connie’s tears were for joy. This time, when she pulled Connie to her feet, Annie hugged her, because now it was right. The anger, the venom that had been lingering between them flooded away and old friends, dear friends, close friends were together again. Breaks and cracks were instantly mended and the two girls walked toward town, arms around each other, watching the sun glitter on the water.
That’s the end of it, Annie thought, it’s done. Done and gone, and now she could love the rest of her very last year.
“I’m dumping Parker in the morning,” Connie said. Annie gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “And you know, Anne…” Connie grinned at her sideways, and Annie took the compliment, “I have nothing to compare stupid Parker to either, so I really don’t know if he’s that good in bed, either.”
Annie laughed at the absurdity of her life, but it didn’t matter anymore. She had a beautiful sunset, a recovered friendship, all was well with her world.
A Small Town Dream Page 8