Girls of July

by Alex Flinn

  Spider must have thought the same thing. “Are you okay? Is there anything . . . ?”

  “I might need a glass of water,” she said.

  “Let us get it for you.” Britta gestured at Spider to lead Janet to the sofa. Britta went for water. When she returned, she noticed Spider holding the woman’s gnarled hand in her own.

  She accepted the water shakily. “So Ruthie . . . she’s alive? Is she here?”

  “She is alive. We thought we should check with you before we brought her. We didn’t want to get her hopes up if you . . . I mean . . .”

  “If it wasn’t you,” Spider said. “Or you didn’t want to see her.”

  “She was the love of my life!” And then Jacey—now Janet—burst into tears.

  It took a few more minutes to calm her. Britta explained that they’d been looking for her, about the video, Ruthie’s refusal. Spider filmed a little of that. Then, she showed her the embroidered pillow, the one that said “Janet C. Pearce embroidery” in little blue letters. Janet C. Janet Calisti. “It said Janet Pearce. We didn’t know if you were married.”

  Janet nodded. “I was married, not happily. After he was finally gone, I looked for Ruthie, but her name, Ruth Green, isn’t exactly uncommon, and I didn’t know her married name, or if she had one. I had followed her career in New York. But then she disappeared.”

  “When she married my grandfather,” Spider said.

  “Why did you stop talking to her in the first place?” Britta asked.

  “Because I was afraid. What do you want me to say? My family didn’t like who I was, and it seemed easier to get married like they expected. Times were different then.”

  It was exactly what Ruthie had said. How could they argue?

  “I never knew anyone like her. We had such plans, such plans, and now . . .” She broke off, her hands working at the quilt on the sofa. “Can I see her?”

  Britta hesitated. “We should ask her.”

  “I’ve waited so long. You coming that day was like a gift, like . . .” She looked down at her hands as if just now realizing how spotted and old they were. She shook her head.

  “That’s true,” Britta said. “What were the odds you’d drive into a ditch right here?”

  Finally Spider said, “Okay. But let’s call her.”

  “That’s fine,” Janet said. “That’s fine.”

  When they called Ruthie, Britta heard her say, “You’re sure it’s her?”

  “Pretty sure,” Spider said.

  On the phone, Britta heard Ruthie ask something else.

  Spider turned to Janet. “She wants to know, what did she do to Mayra?”

  Janet laughed, a cackle. “Oh, Mayra! Mayra said I looked chubby in my costume. And Ruthie, she painted the phone in the dressing room black with shoe polish. Then, I called from the five-and-dime, and Ruthie told Mayra she had a phone call. Mayra went onstage with black shoe polish on her face and hands!” She laughed again. “It’s like it happened yesterday.”

  Spider repeated this to Ruthie, listened again, then hung up the phone. “She says okay.”

  Janet smiled. “All right, then. I’ll get my car keys.” As she walked toward the door, she paused in front of a mirror hanging on the wall, its frame made out of rustic twigs. She peered into it. “I wonder if she’ll know me.”

  66

  Spider

  INT/EXT. SPIDER’S CAR — DAY

  Britta is driving along a rural route. Spider keeps checking her phone for service.

  “IT’S GOING TO be fine,” Britta said. “Ruthie said she wanted to see her, right?”

  “I know.” Spider glanced back at Jacey—Janet—who was following in her car. “It’s just so weird. Fifty years, and now, they’re just going to see each other, like it’s perfectly normal. It can’t go this well.”

  “Sometimes things just go well, Spider.”

  Spider smiled. “Guess so. I’m starting to think this summer rental wasn’t a terrible idea.”

  And then they were there. Spider had her camera rolling for the reunion, even though she had no idea what to expect. Tears? Laughter? She wasn’t sure if Ruthie would come out, or if they should knock. Jacey was taking her time getting out; then she reached the door.

  It opened, and Ruthie stood there. Spider noticed she’d fluffed her hair or something. She stepped back to get Janet’s reaction at seeing Ruthie. Janet didn’t disappoint, obviously overcome with emotion. “Ruth! It’s been so long.”

  Ruthie stepped toward Janet. “You bitch.”

  “What?” Her own voice.

  “How could you?” Ruthie’s face was stormy. “How could you just leave like that without saying anything, without even trying to call, without giving me a chance?”

  “I wanted to. My parents kept their eyes on me all the time. They were worried I’d run away.” Janet’s voice was shaking.

  “I wrote dozens of letters. I checked the mail every day. We had plans together. I needed you.”

  “I know. I know. If I could go back and change it, I would. But I can’t.” She walked toward Ruthie, hands out. “We’ve wasted so much time, but now you’re here. Finally.”

  She was crying, and when Spider looked, she saw that Ruthie was crying too. It was amazing. These women were so connected, gone so long, reunited. But would Ruthie accept her? Was she really that angry?

  “You broke my heart.” Ruthie’s voice collapsed. “I looked and looked for you.”

  “I was here. I’m here now.” Again, Janet reached toward Ruthie.

  This time, Ruthie met her halfway, and they embraced.

  “Oh God,” Britta said. “This is so adorable.”

  Spider had forgotten Britta was there. It seemed impossible that even she herself was there, as if the world had melted away, leaving only these two women. But she took a step toward Britta, touched her shoulder. “You did this,” she whispered.

  “We both did,” Britta whispered back. “And maybe God or something. We should leave them alone a moment.”

  Spider nodded and turned off her camera. They went inside, where Meredith and Kate sat on the sofa.

  “Should I ask what’s going on?” Kate said.

  Spider shut the door behind them. Britta said, “That woman, the woman from the quilt place, she was Ruthie’s lost love, from when they were our age. They just found each other.”

  “How long has it been?” Meredith wanted to know.

  “It was the 1960s,” Spider said, “so fifty years—more than fifty years they weren’t together when they could have been, if things were different.”

  “Wow, why?” Meredith asked, then she thought about it. “Never mind. I know why.”

  “They wanted to do what was expected of them, what their parents and society thought was the right thing,” Spider said, and Britta nodded.

  “Yeah, it’s terrible to think of the time they wasted,” Britta added.

  “Wasted giving birth to my father, who had me, but still . . . ,” Spider agreed.

  “True, but what about Janet?” Britta said. “It seems like she was never happy, and all because she wanted to do what people thought she was supposed to.”

  That’s when the door opened. Ruthie and Janet were a little drier, but still red-eyed, and arm in arm. Ruthie said, “We’re going to take a drive around, catch up . . . on everything.”

  And then they were out the door together.

  Britta met Spider’s eyes.

  “Intense,” Spider said.

  “Our work is done.”

  Spider watched the two old women, one tall, one short, getting into Janet’s silver Jeep.

  They glanced back at the other two. “What now?” Britta asked.

  Meredith looked at the door. “Actually, I have to go do . . . something. I’m sorry. It’s something I just realized was important.” And she sort of ran to the door.

  “Okay, that was weird, right?” Britta said, and Spider agreed it was.

  “I feel like I need to maybe lie dow
n a bit, at the lake,” Kate said.

  “Well, then, I’m going to go up to work on my script.” Spider started upstairs.

  “Okay,” Britta said. “I guess I’ll find something to do.”

  Spider turned back. “Aren’t you coming with me? This is our project.”

  Britta grinned. “I thought our project was . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind. Yeah.”

  Spider noticed Britta was skipping a little as she followed her to the stairs. That idiot.

  67

  Meredith

  Essay topic: What makes you happy? Why?

  YOU ALWAYS HEAR about people’s lives flashing before their eyes when they’re in danger. That was what just happened to Meredith. When she saw those two old ladies, who’d been apart their whole lives, her life flashed before her eyes. Only it flashed forward, and she was an old lady herself, on her deathbed, looking back on her life and thinking of everything she’d missed because she was too busy studying, working, stressing out.

  She’d missed sunsets and baking cookies and hanging out with friends, real friends.

  And she’d missed Harmon. Harmon and his playlists and star trails.

  Even though she was wearing sandals, Meredith ran the half mile or so to his house.

  His truck wasn’t outside. Had he left already? She went to the door and knocked. Inside, a vacuum cleaner turned off and after a long time, she heard footsteps. His mother opened the door.

  “Meredith?” She wore a paint-splattered blue shirt, and something in her face let Meredith know that she knew what had happened. “What are you—?”

  “Is Harmon here?” She tried hard to keep the edge of desperation from her voice.

  “No, he just left. He was headed for the mountains to camp.” She rolled her eyes. “That boy.”

  “Do you know where he was going?” She tried to remember what he’d said. Something about the high peaks. Lake Placid, maybe? It was about an hour north. But there were over forty high peaks, and people took years to climb them all. It was worse than Spider’s fire tower challenge. She needed someone to narrow it down.

  “Mount Marcy, maybe.” His mother squinched up her face, thinking. “He’s supposed to send his location when he gets there.”

  Mount Marcy sounded familiar. Or was that the mountain Spider had mentioned that day when they’d gone to the train station?

  Did these people not know you were supposed to leave an itinerary with someone before hiking, in case you went missing? She bet Harmon also hadn’t thought to pack a whistle and mirror, to signal to rescue teams in the event of an emergency. That would be so like him!

  “Is Mount Marcy the one Theodore Roosevelt was climbing when McKinley was shot?” This was an insane question, and his mother’s face showed that she thought so too.

  “I really have no idea,” she said. She thought again. “It might have been Whiteface he was going to.”

  Which also sounded familiar. How did people in New York keep track of all these mountains? To say nothing of lakes and rivers.

  And a sky full of stars.

  “I have to find him,” Meredith said just as his mom said, “I thought you broke up.”

  “That’s why I need to find him,” Meredith said. “I think I made a huge mistake. Maybe I can just try to call him.” Except her phone didn’t work here.

  She thanked her and ran back to the house to ask Spider for the car keys.

  She felt a little like a heroine in a rom-com.

  Except the rom-com might turn into a survival story if she had to find him in the mountains. She grabbed her hiking boots, jeans, and a water bottle just in case.

  Five minutes later, she was ensconced in Spider’s car. She’d tried Harmon three times from the Websters’ landline, but it had gone straight to voice mail. She’d just drive north.

  She felt wild and free, for the first time in her life. People at school were going to say Meredith Daly went crazy over the summer. They might be right.

  She pulled onto Route 9. She would drive through town to the expressway and start calling him from there. Since deer were usually only out at dusk and dawn, she actually sped a little, ten miles above the posted speed limit.

  Then she screeched to a stop. It was his truck! At least, a truck that looked a lot like his truck (which, too be fair, there were a lot of around there), an old, white Dodge pickup. As Meredith crept closer, she saw it had a bumper sticker on the left side of the window.

  She could dimly make out a picture, maybe of a moose.

  It was his truck!

  She made a hard right into the supermarket parking lot, causing her wheels to shriek in a way that Meredith Daly’s wheels did not shriek because Meredith Daly was a sensible driver, a sensible girl . . . woman. But she was not sensible today. They shrieked again as she made another right. The space beside the truck was empty, and she pulled into it.

  The bumper sticker on the car definitely had a moose on it.

  It said, “Not all who wander are lost.” She hoped all was not lost.

  She jumped from the car, not even bothering to lock the door. She dashed toward the grocery store. When she went through the door, she ran into a guy weighted down with reusable grocery bags. A loaf of bread fell out of one of the bags.

  Harmon!

  “Oh! Sorry!” he was saying, leaning down to retrieve the bread. Then he realized it was her. “Meredith?”

  She had leaned down at the same time. Their eyes met. “Harmon!”

  He scooped it up and started to turn away. “Sorry.”

  “Wait!” she said.

  He turned back toward her. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please don’t leave.” This was so weird, standing in front of a supermarket, pouring her heart out, him looking at her like Why should I stay here, and she had to tell him why. “I love you. I do. I don’t want you to leave. You make me happy. I want to spend every minute we can together and make plans. I want it to work out for us somehow. I at least want—”

  He dropped the bags on the ground with a thud, and then they were in each other’s arms, kissing. It was like that first kiss all over again, except this time, instead of fireworks, there were canned goods, rolling out of the bags on the ground beneath them. Meredith didn’t even care.

  “Excuse me!” A lady with a shopping cart nudged Meredith’s thigh with it.

  “Sorry!” Meredith tried to get out of the way, even though they were having a moment. She bent to pick up the bags, and he did too. They bumped heads, dropped the groceries again, stopped to rub their heads.

  “I’ll just go through the other door,” the lady said.

  “Thanks.” Harmon saluted the woman. He held a finger up to Meredith. “I’m going in. Stay there.”

  He scooped up the canned chili and Gatorade into the two bags, then nudged her to follow him to his truck.

  She did. When they reached the truck, he said, “What changed?”

  “Nothing. Everything.” She looked at his groceries, which he’d stuck in the passenger seat of his truck, and remembered what he’d said about never wanting to leave here. “I don’t know if I want to stay here forever. I mean, I like it here, but it’s over a half an hour drive to Target, and the supermarket only has ten kinds of cereal.” She was making a mess of this.

  His eyes were laughing. “We believe that’s part of our quirky charm, but okay. I would consider moving closer to a Tarr-get in the future.” He pronounced it like it was foreign to him. “That wouldn’t be a deal breaker for me.”

  “My point is, I don’t even know what I want yet. But you showed me that I don’t. Before I met you, I thought I did. I guess I got scared because you seemed so sure of what you want.”

  He put his arm around her. “I want you. That’s what I want. We’ll be together somehow. I can take photographs anywhere. So far, they haven’t managed to get rid of wildlife completely. I hear they even have some in Miami.”

  “Let’s not get carried away.”

/>   He kissed the top of her head. “Well, listen, I’ve got a tank of gas and two bags of groceries. Want to come to the mountains with me?”

  “I’ve got my boots,” Meredith said, even as she wondered what she was getting herself into. Like, was she going to sleep in a tent? Did he even have a tent? “We should bring Spider’s car back first. That might get her mad.”

  “Aw, don’t worry. We’re going to have to go back and get you some warmer clothes for overnight. It’ll be cold. We’ll pitch a tent under the stars. It’s a waning gibbous tonight, but we should still be able to see them.”

  “How many nights are we talking about here?” she asked.

  “How long are you staying? I’ll be sure to get you back by then.” At the panicked expression on her face, he said, “Kidding, kidding. Just one night, unless something goes wrong.”

  “I was all freaked out, and you were only leaving for one night?” she said.

  He took her in his arms again. “I want to spend as much time together as possible, before I can’t anymore.”

  68

  Kate

  KATE STARED AT the text. It was from Daddy.

  Call me. Important.

  As soon as she could escape unnoticed, Kate took her phone and ran up the hill at a speed that would make Ms. Pierpoint, her physical education teacher, unjustifiably proud. Her thighs hurt, and she was breathless. Finally, the call went through.

  “Kate?”

  “Daddy? It’s so good to hear your voice!” She remembered Ray-Ray and his dad. She missed her father.

  “Good news, Katy. They’re going to drop the charges!”

  “What?” The air at the top of the hill was thin. It made her light-headed. Her father’s words didn’t seem real.

  “Edwin turned out to be, shall I say, not a very reliable witness. Seems like he has a drug habit. He was arrested trying to buy cocaine from a county commissioner’s staffer.”

  Well, what do you know? Edwin was the informant who was testifying against Daddy. Kate felt legit dizzy. She backed into a boulder nearby and sat on it. Wait! “When did that happen?” She wondered if Colin had known about it when he wrote the letter, or when he spoke with her. Did her friends know? Was that why Greer had invited her to the barbecue?