by Chris Myers
Mrs. Nowak shakes a few roasted almonds over the blanched green beans. One of my favorites. When I pick out one, she swats me. “You’re as bad as Brea.”
“If you weren’t such a good cook.”
Mrs. Nowak gives me a knowing smile. “Do you think Jonathan has changed?”
“He’ll always be Jonathan to me, but Currie doesn’t remember.”
“I remember some,” Currie says, walking into the kitchen and sneaking up on us. “He fell down once and hit his chin on the coffee table. I guess he was high or something.” She lowers her head. “Daddy cried over that and said he was sorry. He left the next day, but he promised he’d get better and would come back for me.”
I never knew this. It hurts that she’s worth returning for and I’m not. I don’t admit this to anyone, especially Currie.
Zoe reaches for Currie’s hand. Her face is still pale. “Will you move to California?”
Currie digs the toe of her high-end sneaker into the hardwood flooring. “It’s up to Lennon.”
Zoe folds her arms in front of her chest. “He’s a pushover. You always get your way.”
“I am not,” I say, though I know I am.
“Are too,” Currie says.
“We’d still see each other,” Currie says. “I promise. Daddy said so. We’ll come here all the time.”
Currie’s pretty much made up her mind. I’m not sure where that leaves me. I don’t want to be alone.
“What do you want, Lennon?” Mrs. Nowak asks.
Currie looks at me expectantly.
“I can’t forgive Jonathan, but Currie wants him. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Currie pushes out her bottom lip. “I want you to come with me. I’d miss you too much.”
I mess up her hair. “Me, too.”
Currie grabs my arm. “Stop that.”
Mrs. Nowak hands Currie the butter and Zoe the salt and pepper. “Would you take those to the table?”
When they leave, Mrs. Nowak says, “Lennon, you have to think about what’s best for you and Currie. She wants her dad and if Heather leaves, you know how she is, Currie will be devastated. I’m sure you can work out an agreement where you maintain rights over Currie, especially if your dad relapses.”
She smiles and continues, “You can choose your friends by you can’t choose your relatives. I think deep down you know what you need to do. Currie won’t always be around, and it would be a shame for a prince like you, not to have a family of your own someday.”
Being alone is what’s bothering me. I need to work this out so that I protect Currie, and she can see Jonathan on a more permanent basis. It’s just not what I really want to do. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Beckham to see what arrangements can be made.”
“I’m sure your father would want you both to finish the school year here. There’s no rush. You’ve provided for Currie for almost ten years. Jonathan can wait a few months.”
Mr. Nowak waltzes in and kisses his wife’s cheek. “My favorite meal.” He assumes the position of slicing the meat. I’ve never really seen them fight.
I avoid discussing Jonathan further by opening the wine and carrying it and the salad into the dining room. Currie and I have had many meals at this table and not one of them bad.
We sit down at the large dining room table and hold hands. Mr. Nowak says grace. Currie likes having dinner here, though she glowers at me when I take a large helping of meat. I tell her it’s rude not to try everything. She eats salad, potatoes, and vegetables.
The Nowak family has what every kid should have, a nice home without drugs and hard liquor, church on Sunday, well, Currie would like that, and dinner at the table most every night of the week.
The sad thing is I want this for Currie. I thought having the Nowaks next door would suffice, but apparently, it isn’t enough. She wants her daddy. Something I have never had.
What if Jonathan is for real this time? He’s gone back to drugs before, but he was always with Mom during those relapses. Denage doesn’t seem like the type to put up with that.
Zoe picks at her food. When dinner’s through, she excuses herself and goes to her room. Currie tags along.
I help clean up. Mrs. Nowak questions me until Currie walks into the kitchen.
Currie glances up at Mrs. Nowak. “Zoe’s tired. Do you think she’s mad at me?”
“No, honey. She’s still recovering. Give her time.”
I carry Currie home after the dishes are loaded. Her head rests against my shoulder.
“I don’t think Zoe is better,” Currie says in a tiny voice.
“She’ll be fine,” I say. “It’s just all the chemo.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
LENNON
The next day, the school office calls me in the middle of class. I haven’t been back long enough to cause problems. Have I?
While all eyes are on me, I excuse myself and walk to the office. Brea Nowak is there, waiting for me.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask.
“Mom rushed Zoe to the hospital. Dad’s on his way there.”
I feel the world slip beneath my feet. This will destroy Currie. “What happened? Is she okay?”
“Zoe has had a bloody nose now for twelve hours and her bones started hurting again. It’s not good.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Can you give me a ride to the hospital?” she asks, her voice shaky. “And we may need for you to take care of Whiskers until we get a hold of our usual cat sitter.”
“No problem.” I check out of school and drive Brea to the hospital.
Brea works the hem of her hoodie into knots. “She was doing fine.”
“Maybe it’s just a reaction to the medication.”
“It’s not.” Brea stares at me, her eyes shiny with tears. “This is so not right. Zoe, Currie, Zoe. I sit up in bed every night, wondering what a nine-year-old has done to deserve this.”
There are no answers to her questions. I’ve asked them myself a million times.
I let Brea out at the front then go and park. I won’t call Currie just yet. She’ll be mad, but she doesn’t need to go through this anymore.
Once I get inside, I speak with Mrs. Nowak who’s talking to the doctor. “What’ up?’
She bursts into tears and collapses into my arms. “Zoe’s dying.”
My whole body sags from the shock. “I thought…”
“There was always a chance her last treatment might backfire, and it has.”
The air has been sucked out of me. “There’s nothing they can do?”
Mr. Nowak flies out of the elevator. She runs to him. They lose each other in their embrace. I stare at them in envy only for a moment.
I hurry into Zoe’s room. She’s sitting up with a million machines hooked up to her. She gives me a little wave.
“Would you gather the troops?” Zoe asks. “I want to say goodbye.”
I kneel and lay my head on her lap. She ruffles my hair. “Don’t be sad. It hurts really bad. I’m tired of hurting. Be strong for Currie. She needs you.”
I don’t know how Zoe remains so brave.
“I’ll make the phone calls.” I step into the hall where I overhear Mrs. Nowak asking the doctor, “How long?”
“Zoe doesn’t have much time left. An hour maybe two. Her body is shutting down.”
I first call Clive to pick up Currie then the school, so they’ll release her to him. Susan answers Danny’s phone and tells me they’ll be here shortly. Jinx gets out of class and arrives first, even though I called her last.
She holds off from going into the room. Susan and Danny walk in as soon as they arrive to say goodbye. Susan bites her lip until she comes out. She buries her face into Danny’s shoulder and sobs.
Clive and Currie arrive last. Jinx and I go in with them. Brea holds Zoe’s hand. Her mom leans against Mr. Nowak. She looks as if she’ll fall apart at any moment. Jinx takes my hand, and that gives me some comfort.
Cur
rie runs to Zoe. She crawls up onto the bed and holds Zoe. “You can’t go. I won’t let you.”
Mrs. Nowak crumples into her husband’s arms. It’s too much to see Currie and Zoe locked together, holding onto their friendship.
“I’m sorry.” Zoe sniffles. “You’re my bestest friend. You know I don’t want to leave you. I don’t have a choice.”
Tears tumble down Clive’s face. “What will I do without you?”
“I guess we can’t marry in this life, so you’ll have to find me on the next go around,” Zoe says.
“I’ll wait for you,” he says, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
“Hunky monkey, where’s my kiss?” Zoe reaches for me.
I give her a hug and kiss.
“I have a small favor to ask,” she says, holding her hand up and pinching her fingers together to show me how small. “Please play Tiny Dancer at my…you know.”
“I will.”
She takes my hand. “Could you sing it now?”
I sing the song. Clive hums along with me. It’s a great song from an awesome duo, Bernie Taupin, the word man, and Elton John, the composer.
The nurse comes in and checks the intravenous feed of morphine for Zoe. She caresses Zoe’s shoulder. “Little angel,” she says before leaving.
Several nurses stand outside while I sing to Zoe. She tightly holds onto Currie. As I get to the last chorus, her grip relaxes on Currie.
Zoe’s eyes flutter then close—her breaths slow and uneven. Her mother has hold of one shoulder, Brea the other, and Currie is wrapped around Zoe like she’s gripping a tree in a hurricane. Zoe opens her eyes and looks at the ceiling for a brief moment as if someone is beckoning her away.
Zoe closes her eyes for the last time. She doesn’t wake. I can only hope her spirit smiles down on us from above.
A half hour later, I have to pry Currie from Zoe’s lifeless body. I hate for Currie to have to go through this, but we all have to. It’s a part of life. I hold her until she cries herself out and falls asleep in my arms. Jinx waits with me.
What I’ve learned from almost losing Currie and now Zoe is how short our lives are and how important it is to have good people surround you, like the Nowaks, like Jinx, Clive, Danny Boy, and Susan.
Jinx comes over to my house for a little while. She doesn’t spend the night, and I don’t expect her to. It may be a long time before she wants that kind of intimacy with any guy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
JINX
It’s been good to be home in my own bed without Step-monster here. I don’t need to lock my room anymore. Mom is working out her schedule so she doesn’t have to travel as much until I go to college. To save money, I’ll live at home and attend the nearby community college for the first two years.
Zach has called several times, but I’m not ready to date him again quite yet. Lennon said he wanted to talk to me, and I’m hoping he’s getting up the nerve to ask me out. I’m not holding my breath though, because it may never happen.
Seeing how vulnerable Lennon is lets me know that there is hope for him. He’s screwed up, that’s for sure, but so am I. We both have dark, deep closets stuffed with pain that’ll take years to clean out.
I wear my black heels and the plum dress Currie and Zoe picked out for me. It reminds me of that day shopping. Looking back, it’s a fond memory despite my hangover.
Mom lets me borrow a scarf and her good wool coat because it’s damp and chilly outside.
Rena arrives first. She wants to follow us over. “Hey,” she says, when I open the front door for her.
“Nice and cloudy,” I say.
She walks onto the foyer. “Are you and Lennon dating?”
“I’m not sure. He hasn’t officially asked me out, but we’ve been spending some time together. Currie just finished her treatment.”
“I think he’s getting up the nerve to ask you out.”
“Say we do start dating. I’m not ready to sleep with anyone.” I’m not sure if I’ll ever be.
“Then don’t. Make Lennon wait. It won’t hurt him. He likes you, so go with that for now.”
I lead her to the living room where we both sit. “I’m not sure what to do about Zach.”
“Give Lennon a week or two. He almost lost Currie and now Zoe. Tell Zach you’re busy with the band and being a friend to Lennon.”
“I’ll do that. I like Lennon. So far he hasn’t tried to do anything but kiss me.”
She shoulder bumps me. “I told you there was more to him.”
“You were right. I was wrong, but don’t let that get out.”
Rena laughs. “I won’t.”
Lennon pulls up out front and walks to the door to get me. I’ll never forget how he clobbered Step-monster.
Mom meets him at the door. Rena and I stand and go to meet Lennon.
When Lennon sees Rena, he says, “Do you want a ride?”
“No thanks. I’ll drive myself.” She squeezes past Lennon. “I’ll see you guys there.”
Mom whispers to me, “He’s really handsome.”
My cheeks heat. I glower at her, even though it’s true. Lennon wears one of his expensive suits and a tie. He does clean up nice.
Once we’re out of earshot, he says, “Your mom thinks I’m cute.”
Like that’s all it takes to get my approval. I elbow him. “Her vote doesn’t count.”
He takes my arm, walks me to the passenger side, and lets me in. His mother sits in the back, looking elegant in all black and a matching hat and veil.
Currie wears an organza dress the color of red wine and the matching scarf to Zoe’s. It pricks my heart to see it.
“You look beautiful,” I say to her.
“You, too.” She stares out the window at the cold, windy day. I can feel the rain before it starts.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
LENNON
I drive everyone to Saint Paul’s Catholic Church for Zoe’s service. With Clive’s help, I composed a duet for Currie on the violin for Zoe’s requested song. Currie carries in her instrument with her head down. The Nowaks greet us as soon as we arrive. I drop Jinx’s hand long enough to hug each one of them. Currie can’t look at them.
Mrs. Nowak bends down to Currie’s level. She hands her a small gold ballerina on a chain. “Zoe wanted you to have this. I hope you’ll take it and remember her always.”
Currie wraps her arms around Mrs. Nowak’s neck. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“You can come over anytime you want to talk. You know we love you as our own.”
She clings to Mrs. Nowak. “I miss her so much.”
“I know, Honey. We all do. Come sit with us down front.”
Currie takes Mrs. Nowak’s hand. They sit on the first row. I walk over to the raised platform at the front and set up the mike and amps with Jinx’s help. Clive sits by Brea. His parents are a few rows back. Susan and Danny Boy sit with them.
In a way, I’m jealous of them. They have each other. Even when they fight, it’s never ugly, though it is uncannily honest. My parents always fought dirty, using vicious name-calling.
Bailey and her mom sit next to Zoe’s fellow dancers. She smiles at me when I spot her. I nod back.
Jinx and I sit by Clive. Her constant touch comforts me. Rena comes to our row and slides in next to Jinx.
The priest says a few words before Mrs. Nowak does the eulogy. What does one say about a life cut short? That Zoe was full of love and energy even when she was dying. My mind wanders while Mrs. Nowak speaks. I can’t listen when my heart is full of pain, and my brain seizes on the decisions I’ll have to make concerning Currie.
I realize now that I have to face Jonathan. Mom has packed her bags. It’ll tear Currie apart when she says goodbye. I don’t think Currie has even noticed the suitcases in Mom’s bedroom. She’s distraught from losing her best friend.
As I rub my temple, Mrs. Nowak asks us to come up. “Zoe’s last request was for Lennon and her best friend Currie to play her
favorite song. We hope that each of you take a moment to meditate on what’s important in life so that you share each day with your loved ones as if it’s their last.”
I offer my hand to Currie, but she holds her head high. This song is for Zoe, so in her mind, it has to be perfect.
Jonathan and Denage slip into the back row. A few people spot the celebrity couple and point at them and whisper. Currie must’ve called him. They’re dressed in black and dark glasses. The bodyguards must be outside.
Clive and Currie take out their violins. They stand in front of the baby grand. I begin with the melodic entrance on the piano placed just to the left side of the altar. Of all the Elton John songs, this one has always been Currie’s and Zoe’s favorite, and so it became mine.
Instead of the piano interlude, the strings warm the air with their angel cries. As they crescendo, the sun peeks through the clouds and brightens the church. It’s almost as if Zoe smiles down on Currie. With her chin on the violin rest, Currie draws the bow across the strings. Her concentration makes the song as perfect as possible. Clive is a complete professional and never misses a note.
By the time Tiny Dancer ends, most of the crowd is in tears and so is my dad. Jinx sits in the purple dress I bought her. She looks amazing. After all she’s been through, she seems to be at peace now, and I may have played a small role in that.
I drive us over to the cemetery. Heather watches Jonathan’s limo drive up and park. She kisses Currie on top of her head.
“I’m moving back to L.A.,” Heather says. “My agent has several auditions set up for me, and Jonathan offered to help me start a business. I’m thinking about marketing a spa line of products. My own concoctions have certainly kept me young.”
Great timing, Mom. Currie’s worst day of her life and you totter off into the sunset to find a life of your own.
“Mommy, don’t leave.” Currie grabs hold of Heather’s waist. “I’m sorry.”
“Currie, you’ve done nothing wrong,” I say.
“Let go.” Heather pries her loose.
Currie sobs. “Don’t go, Mommy. Not now.”