by Chris Myers
“I’m not going to let him ruin our wedding,” Joel says.
Now I’m the one who bursts out laughing. Danny has his hand over my mouth and jerks me away from the open door.
Mr. Winthrop marches past us and into the room. “What’s the disturbance?”
With his back to Joel, Lennon winks at Winthrop. “Just a misunderstanding.”
Winthrop barks at Katie. “Were you kissing your cousin again?”
“Yes, Daddy. It was harmless. Just a bit of luck from the Irish.” Her voice is not its usual smooth and even tone for lying.
Joel falls for all this. He’s been had. Are all jocks this blonde? Or does he just want to believe she’s real?
Winthrop pats Joel’s back. “You have a lot of work ahead of you restraining my wildcat of a daughter.” He hands Joel a glass of champagne and raises it in a toast. “To fast horses and wild women.”
Joel drinks his with some hesitation. Apparently, he’s just beginning to understand what he’s in for or maybe not.
Katie kisses Lennon’s hand like he’s royalty. “Would you play Daddy’s favorite song? It would mean so much to both of us.”
Lennon nods. “Anything for the bride.”
“Really?” she asks.
Lennon takes a step back from her. I guess he has some standards.
“She’s too much,” I say to Danny.
As Clive straightens his tie, Katie takes Joel by the hand and leads him out of the bride’s chamber, her head held high. I got to hand it to her. She may be nominated for a Tony with that act.
Winthrop pulls Lennon aside. “You saved us both. My wife would have a fit if this got into the papers.” He stuffs a bill into Lennon’s breast-coat pocket. “You earned that.”
Lennon wraps his arms around Danny’s and my waists. It doesn’t creep me out as usual. I think I actually trust him more than I would’ve ever thought possible.
“Welcome to the band,” Lennon says. “You guys just earned yourselves another ‘G’.”
Danny fists bumps me. Another grand. Wow, I’d have to work weeks to make that much.
Lennon takes a seat at the piano and nods at Winthrop who takes his daughter’s hand for their dance. Lennon sings a powerful Italian song that the couple waltzes to. By the end of his solo performance, tears prick my eyes. It reminds me of the time my dad took me to see La Boheme. Lennon’s voice is that beautiful.
The crowd erupts with cheers and a standing ovation. Even Heather stands, her eyes filled moisture, and her face beams with pride.
Lennon bows and Clive starts in with an upbeat song while I’m left coughing on the dust of their whirlwind.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LENNON
It’s been a hard week for Currie. Several times, she has cried herself to sleep. The chemo isn’t going well for Zoe, not that it ever has. She’s sick, her hair fell out, and she just wants to go home and have her life return to normal.
And for some stupid reason, the Humane Society keeps leaving me messages. I’ve deleted them all. We don’t have time to volunteer this month, not with hospital visits to Zoe and teaching Jinx to read music, which is the only highlight of my day as of late.
Zoe has a reprieve today from treatment. She goes in for the heavy-duty chemo in a couple days. I’m running the girls by the warehouse for practice first, then we’ll order out from their favorite restaurant in Naperville, some noodle company. She and Currie sit in the backseat next to each other. Currie stares outside. It pains me to see them both suffering.
Zoe fidgets with the scarf I bought her that hides her bald head. “Are you sure I look okay?” she asks.
Currie wears hers as a sign of solidarity. She reaches for Zoe’s hand and feigns a smile that’s hard for her to keep. “You look great.”
Zoe’s eyes are sunken from loss of weight, and gray crescent moons shadow her normally bright green eyes.
“I especially like the scarf I bought for my Aphrodite,” I say.
“Do you think Clive will notice I look like a hairless Chihuahua?” Zoe’s voice is so timid it stabs my chest.
I glance back in the rearview mirror. “Clive loves you, not just for your outer beauty but for who you are.” It’s a lame statement, but it’s true. Clive misses his sister who died in a freak accident.
Zoe leans her head against the car window. The snow is a puddled mess in the streets, turning many yards into lakes. “Thanks. You’re still my second fave.”
I wink at Zoe. “Always the best man and never the groom.”
“How can you even be interested in someone so old?” Currie wrinkles her nose. “They’re a step away from tennis-ball-shoed walkers.”
Zoe folds her arms across her chest. “A girl’s supposed to marry someone older because boys take so long to grow up.”
“That’s very true,” I say, watching them a moment longer as I pull into the warehouse. It’s hard to think about a child dying. My world revolves around Currie, so I can’t imagine losing her and being in Mrs. Nowak’s shoes.
I bundle Zoe up in a blanket and carry her inside. She wraps her arms around my neck. “Thanks for doing all this. You’re still a hunky monkey. Clive’s just got that whole British thing going for him.”
If I didn’t know him so well, I’d think his accent makes him sound gay. “Blimey, I thought it was you and me, bird,” I say in my best British voice.
“Not bad. Keep working on it. I can be swayed…for Skittles.”
Currie grabs my arm. Sometimes she gets jealous of me sharing my attention with others, especially girls. That’s one of the many reasons I don’t have a girlfriend, though I hate admitting that even to myself. Someday, Currie will grow up and leave me, then where will I be?
Maybe I should let Jinx get under my skin.
Currie gets the door for us. She’s thoughtful that way, and at her age, that’s a bonus.
“Thanks, squirt,” I say.
I set Zoe in a director’s chair and go turn up the heat. It’s usually cool in here for practice.
Clive sits at the piano with Jinx because it’s his turn to teach. “Hello, sweets,” he calls to Zoe. “Be with you in a minute.”
Once again, Jinx sits on the edge of the bench while Clive is right up against her. We have similar moves. His arm crosses in front of her chest to touch her shoulder and hands, close enough to her breasts to make her squirm. His attitude toward Jinx has changed after she started hitting the notes and blending in with us. She still needs work, but it’s a far cry from her first night.
Clive touches her again, and she doesn’t protest, which bugs me. Why do I even care? It’s not like she’s the least bit interested in me or the type of relationship I have to offer, which is really none at all.
She’s wearing those over the knee boots with a very short, ass-hugging skirt, and a frilly top. All that hair hangs loose over her shoulders. Interesting that a girl dressing that hot is an iceberg.
Clive finishes his lesson. He helps Jinx up, which she meets with a half frown. She’s not happy, and that pleases me. Clive walks over to Zoe. He lifts her up and swings her around.
“Don’t,” I say, but it’s too late.
Zoe throws up all over him, a sticky green goo. Her face goes paler than it already is. “I’m sorry.” Her head swivels toward me with a ‘rescue me’ expression before it turns to horrified.
I want to die for her.
Currie scoots from her chair and rushes to Zoe. Jinx watches me, making me a bit uncomfortable as I scoop Zoe up.
Clive is speechless, frozen with green bean mush dripping from his chin. “Zoe…”
It’s too late. She buries her face in my shoulder. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m getting your shirt all yucky.”
“It’s no problem.” She doesn’t remember the times I burped her and Currie on my shoulder, and they spit up on me. I got over that a long time ago.
I rush Zoe to the bathroom. Her tears dampen my button-down shirt. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll beat u
p Clive for making you sick later.”
“Do you think he hates me now?”
“No. He looks good in green.”
Zoe gives a slight laugh, mixed with tears. She clutches onto my shoulders. Her shirt and scarf are damp with vomit, so that she’s shivering. “My scarf is ruined.”
“I’ll wash it out. It’ll be fine.”
“What’ll I wear now?”
Currie takes off her hoodie and her scarf. “You can wear these.”
“Thanks, Currie,” I say. She gives me a weak smile. Pain spreads across her face. This is hard on her, too. She doesn’t want to watch her best friend suffer, but she doesn’t have much choice and neither do I.
I wipe Zoe’s mouth with a washcloth. She takes off her scarf. Her head is as bald as when she was a newborn.
Tears sprinkle her cheeks. “I’m ugly, aren’t I? This is so unfair.”
Currie comes over and slings her arm around Zoe.
I squat down to face her. “Zoe, you are beautiful.”
“I don’t want to be ugly anymore. I’m tired of feeling sick. My bones hurt.” Her little fists pound my stomach.
“It’s okay. In another week, it’s over with and you can go back to being you.”
Zoe clings to me like Currie used to when she was scared. “Until the next time I have to go in.”
Currie catches my gaze. She understands Zoe’s words all too well.
After Currie and I calm Zoe and clean her up, I send her to the stall to change.
When she comes back out with her head hanging down, she says, “My mouth tastes like something died in it.”
I clean my toothbrush with soap. Never know when I’ll get lucky, so I keep one here. “Will this work?” I hand it to her.
“Are you sure?” Zoe asks, taking it.
“No problem for one of my girls.” I cringe, realizing how bad that sounds. Zoe and Currie don’t notice. In most ways, they’re innocent. I wish I had an ounce of that in my blood.
While Zoe scrubs her teeth, a light knock comes at the door. Clive opens it. “Can I join?”
Jinx stands in the doorway. “Is Zoe okay?”
I nod. Zoe rinses out her mouth. Her cheeks blush, lighting up her ashen face. Her arms wrap around my hips, and her nose squishes against my shirttail.
Clive brushes Zoe’s hair back. “Were you drinking again, party girl?”
Zoe glues herself to me. It’s as if she’s trying to hide from him.
“I didn’t mean to,” she says in between sniffles.
Clive bends down. “No. It’s me who’s sorry.”
“You’ll never want to marry me now.”
“That’s not true. I’ve had much worse things happen to me.”
Zoe turns her head halfway, so that her cheek lies flat against my stomach. She holds onto me like a security blanket. “Like what?”
“This girl was really drunk and we were kissing, and she puked into my mouth.”
Currie puckers her face in disgust. “TMI.”
Zoe lets go of me. “Ew. So what happened? Did you dump her?”
“I still went out with her after she sobered up. I’ll wait for you to get clean, too.”
Zoe screws up her lips. “You know I don’t drink.”
Clive puts out his curled fist. “I know. Still my best girl?”
She bumps his knuckles and nods.
“Let’s go play then.” Clive takes her hand and deposits her in a director’s chair. He wraps her in the blanket. “Still my snuggle bunny.”
Zoe nods. Clive hugs her not so tight this time.
Currie tags along after them. She scoots her chair really close to Zoe’s.
Jinx waits for me to pass her. “You’re good with them. You’re this really crude guy who sometimes surprises me.”
“You like surprises?” I give the grin that most girls go for.
“Not really.” Jinx walks away from me and goes to her keyboard.
That hurt.
We play for an hour. Before we leave, I wait for Jinx to get her car started. The past couple of weeks, it’s progressively taken more tries to turn the engine over. I don’t know much about cars because I’ve always had a new one.
When it doesn’t start, I get out. “Want a jump?” I only have cables to help stranded damsels. It’s a great come on.
“Sure.” Jinx kicks her car. “Piece of junk. I need a new alternator.”
“I’ve been paying you well.”
“Yeah. I haven’t had the time, and I really want a better keyboard. If you’d quit paying me half, I’d have it by now.”
“We treat all newbies this way. Gives them incentive to learn the music.”
Jinx leans against her car. Her face sags. “I’m getting there. I’m really trying.”
“I know. You’ve learned a lot.”
I jump her car. Before she leaves, I cup her shoulder and much to my pleasure, she leans into my touch.
When I get back in the car, Zoe asks, “Do you like Jinx?”
“Do you?” Currie says, her eyes narrowing and daring me to be honest. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
She’s heard me say that to Heather several times. I smile at her imitation of me. “She’s a friend.”
“She’s pretty,” Zoe says.
Currie presses her head against the car window. She fidgets with the lock and yawns. “She’s okay.”
I glance in the mirror at Currie. “Everything all right?”
“I’m just really tired,” Currie says.
After we get food and eat, I carry Zoe next door to her mom. Currie barely ate and curled up on the couch right after dinner. She normally walks Zoe home with me.
As I drop Zoe off, I say, “Watch Zoe. Currie’s really exhausted. She’s not running a fever or anything. I don’t want to take the chance of Zoe getting sick while her immune system is down during treatment.”
“Thank you. Is Currie okay?”
“She’s tired. Probably from all the running around we’ve done.” I walk home, hoping I didn’t expose Zoe to anything Currie may have picked up from school.
Currie could just be upset about Jinx. She’s not used to sharing me. If Currie thinks something’s going on between Jinx and me, there just might be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LENNON
In the morning, Currie doesn’t wake up until I rouse her. Harry is curled up on the pillow beside her. When I feel her forehead, he growls and nips at my fingers. She’s not overly warm.
“Buzz off, pipsqueak,” I say. “Remember who feeds you.”
The stupid dog grins at me, like that’ll make up for him snapping at my fingers.
“What’s wrong, Honey?” I ask Currie.
Currie turns over onto her back. “My head hurts really bad.” She blinks back tears.
When Currie gets sick, I can’t help but think worst case, brain tumor, cancer, bubonic plague. “Let’s get you to the doctor’s.”
“I don’t want to miss school.” She lifts her head, wobbles a bit, then falls back into bed. “It hurts.”
I smooth back her hair. “We’ll fix that, and it won’t kill you to miss one day. I’ll call the doctor.” I leave her room and make an appointment at ten with the pediatrician. When she’s sick, it makes me nervous after what Zoe’s been through. I have enough time for a shower, shave, and breakfast.
I call the high school and let them know I won’t be in today.
Mom’s door is open. She’s sleeping alone and has for the past week. I’ve noticed from her logon history on the computer, she’s been checking out recent Hollywood films. This could be a good sign.
I let Currie sleep while I soak in the shower. It has two heads and two seats and is large enough for two people, not that I’ve ever invited anyone, though it is a fantasy of mine. I sit down and let the steam clear my head.
When it comes to Jinx, Clive isn’t as big a threat as Zach. Zach’s girlfriend Kelly shows up at his locker every day, but at least once a week, h
e goes to watch Jinx at Kichee’s Joint, alone. I’m not sure who I’m kidding because Jinx has zero interest in me.
After I shave and dress, I check on Currie. She’s asleep. I fix breakfast for her to either eat here or take with us. The band plans to practice this afternoon, so it may be best if Currie sleeps on the bed at the warehouse, so I can keep an eye on her.
Mom is rummaging around in the kitchen when I come out. She hacks at the Romaine lettuce like it’s Jonathan’s head. Sometimes, it’s an icepick to the outside freezer instead of simply defrosting it. I’ve replaced it twice from her poking through the walls.
“What’s up?” I ask, not really wanting to know.
“Jonathan’s found another woman.”
“That’s nothing new, and I already told you that.”
She spins toward me, holding the big chef’s knife. Recalling the Dodge Charger guy, I grab her wrist and take it out of her hand. “It’s all right, Heather. You know it won’t last.”
Her breathing is uneven. “It’s different this time.”
“What? Instead of a blonde, he got himself a brunette?”
“That isn’t funny. And she is a brunette. She’s only a couple years younger than me.” Her expression looks as if she just had to put her favorite dog to sleep, not that she’d care about any animal other than Jonathan. “I think it’s serious. He’s been seeing her for over two years. It came out in the tabloid today.”
A current one lies on the counter open to a two-page spread of Jonathan and his girlfriend.
Currie has met this woman and likes her. “It does sound serious.” Jonathan usually goes after barely legal, so this is quite a switch for him. I shrug. “Well, he was bound to move on. What are you going to do now?”
Heather sits down onto one of the barstools. I study her. She looks more glamorous than usual. In fact, the past week, she’s been working out hard and applying more goo to her face.
She rolls back her bottom lip with her teeth, thinks better of it because it might ruin the fullness of her naturally poufy lips that helped make her popular. “I’m not sure. I was thinking of calling Lionel.”