So We Can Glow

by Leesa Cross-Smith

  I was fourteen in 1992. So we’re talking what…Boyz II Men, Kris Kross, “To Be with You” by Mr. Big? I listen to them and that’s enough time machine for me. Oh, and “November Rain” by GnR. Also, Trey Brown shoving his tongue down my throat at the skating rink.

  I was fourteen in 1990. Just bones and legs and hair. I must’ve gone through a can of White Rain a week. I loved Roxette. Oh and “Black Velvet” by Alannah Myles! Dave was forever shoving his tongue down my throat at our locker.

  You two! And wow, I love that song so much. Also, Paula Abdul, Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston…those are my jams. And I wore two pairs of socks with my Keds! I can’t even remember why. LOL. Oh and scrunchies! Everything was scrunchies. And jellies. I loved my jellies. I was a cheerleader! Were you a cheerleader?!

  I loved my jellies too! I remember how they used to smell! And no. I wasn’t a cheerleader. I wasn’t nearly that cool! LOL.

  I was only cool for like, a minute. :) Btw, I lost my virginity to “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boyz II Men. I mean, wow.

  Dave and I were listening to DEF LEPPARD.

  POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME?!

  Of course! LOL.

  I love it. Did you ever dye your hair?

  Bright pink once and my mom almost killed me. I used to spray Sun In in my hair when I laid out, but it didn’t do much. It smelled good though. I wanted to be Drew Barrymore. I wanted to be Courtney Love for a minute too.

  Same. This is so funny…all the women our age…we were practically living the same life! We’re all connected…like magic.

  Exactly like magic. We don’t even need a teenage dream time machine! LOL.

  LOL. But wow NO! I wouldn’t go back to being a teenager though. All that insecurity and acne? Never.

  NEVER. Praise the Lord! We’ve got such beautiful, good girls.

  They are wildly beautiful. And even when they’re a little bad, they’re still pretty good.

  And they have each other.

  And so do we.

  You couldn’t pay me to go back.

  Not even if we had a hot-pink teenage dream time machine!

  With glitter all over it!

  And it’d smell like Love’s Baby Soft.

  And that Debbie Gibson perfume I had.

  Electric Youth!

  And Exclamation!

  Wow, I’d forgotten about that one.

  Ooh and Jean Nate!

  Ok, I really forgot about that one!

  I used to sneak in my mom’s room and put it on.

  I used to sneak and read my parents’ copy of Joy of Sex.

  LOL! I did the same thing!

  Let’s put a copy of that in the teenage dream time machine. The one from the 70s with the armpit hair!

  Totally hot. Also, I had a crush on Keanu Reeves!

  So did I! And both Jason Priestley AND Luke Perry!

  Absolutely the 90210 boys! And Mark-Paul Gosselaar! And girl, Eddie Vedder. I would’ve done ANYTHING for Eddie. And I mean ANYTHING.

  Exact same. Oh and I also had the BIGGEST crush on Dwayne Wayne from A Different World!

  ME TOO.

  Wow, ok. While we’re talking about it, I wouldn’t mind having my teenage body back.

  Girl, tell me about it.

  Girl. Would you marry Dave all over again?

  I would…isn’t that disgusting?

  It’s not disgusting! It’s amazing and super-romantic. It’s the dream!

  Would you marry Mike again?

  I don’t think so…but it’s ok! Really, it’s ok. We’re happy and it’s ok. And we have Keri.

  And she’s a gem.

  She is. And so is Claire. And Hannah too!

  We really do have the best girls.

  The best girls. They’re into the skateboarders now, by the way.

  Ah, that’s right. That Milo boy is a skateboarder.

  I’d maybe go back for the skateboarders.

  Only for the skateboarders?

  Yes! The skateboarders were always my fave. They’re cocky and cute and they throw the best parties, they have the best hair, the best shoes…

  I missed out. I never dated a skateboarder!

  Well, you have Dave and he’s a motorcycle guy.

  Totally a motorcycle guy. What’s Mike? Was he a skateboarder?

  Mathlete!

  Aw, yay! So was I! Nerds unite!

  LOL. Keep an eye out for the skateboarders rolling through your neighborhood because our girls are watching them. Like hawks.

  Good thing we can hear them coming, right?

  Right! LOL!

  I’m just really sorry the girls snuck out of our house. I still feel bad about that.

  Will you stop?

  Ok, ok. I’m sorry!

  STOP APOLOGIZING.

  I WILL. I promise I will.

  Good! You’re a good mom. And I know those boys were scared to death once they saw Dave. LOL.

  Fersure. And no, you…YOU’RE a good mom!

  We’ve got to stick together!

  Absolutely! Can you BELIEVE we’re the moms now? Oh no…are we old?

  No! FACT: we’re young and beautiful and will remain forever so.

  Yes! Ok. I’ll remember that.

  Next time we go out let’s make up a drink called TEENAGE DREAM TIME MACHINE!

  It needs to taste like champagne and peaches!

  And cherries and Lip Smackers!

  It should probably be a slushie, too.

  And come with an expensive night serum. LOL.

  Perfect. And boys aren’t allowed to drink it. LOL.

  No boys allowed!

  Not even the skateboarders?

  Not even the skateboarders!

  Girls only.

  That’s right. Girls only.

  Forever.

  Wow I love you.

  I love you too. We’re heading out of town next week but talk when we get back? Maybe we should plan a giant slumber party with the girls and do face masks and nails and watch Molly Ringwald movies. The girls will be mortified…it’ll be perfect! Oh and when Shelly is finished getting her groove back with the fetus, catch her up on our TEENAGE DREAM TIME MACHINE drink…ask her what else we need to add to it!

  THIS SOUNDS LIKE SO MUCH FUN. Yes! I will! Be safe. Talk soon!

  ♥

  ♥

  Rope Burns

  Bridge Blackfeather takes me to the rodeo, cowboy church. Passes the buttery popcorn salt crystals from his tongue to mine while our boots slide heavy on the peanut-shelled hush-dusty floor. I am wearin’ a dark denim jacket with a long black dress, my thick, titian tantrum of hair stormin’ down my back. Bridge tells me it reminds him of the wild horses, pets me real slow and careful-like so I won’t bite. But I do. I snap and nip at his fingers to make him laugh. Clink his gold initial ring between my teeth. I grew my armpit hair out for him and he gets inside my jacket to pet that too. Points to the cowboy, the buckin’ bronco and says that’s me and you and I don’t ask which is which because I don’t want him to tell me. Knowin’ is a knife. We met way back. Summer, teenagers. Stood in my sultry kitchen when my parents weren’t home, both of us as frenzied as them river-green junebugs slammin’ into the window screen. My bikini bottom like a rain-wet petal stickin’ to the counter as we kissed hard. Two dirty dishrag mouths, wringin’ out. Hummin’ yellow summer afternoons: numberless, sweaty, clandestine. We ate slippery vegetable sandwiches afterward. Left the sunporch smellin’ like the steam of sex and oily artichokes. We tied our high school heart ropes together. Real tight. I have the rope burns to show for it. Before bed, Bridge takes off his shirt to reveal his tattooed proof, my first name, an eighteen-year-old wink of night-black ink on amber milk-cream. Tempestuous lasso loopin’ cursive. I’ve told everyone, I’ll tell you. I married Bridge because he’s thunder. That man right there is a pack of hungry wolves howlin’ at the moon. I’m still enchanted by the white-flicker flame shiverin’ and achin’ against the cave wall of his hands when he lights his cigarettes. The bright
violet glow of his superheated supplication as he bows his head, finds harbor. He kitten-licks me like he’s thirsty, dyin’, like I hold cool livin’ water in my collarbone cups.

  Get Faye & Birdie

  To: Birdie Taylor-Boone

  From: Faye Taylor

  Date: September 13, 2020, 9:02 a.m.

  Subject: MENARETRASH

  Bird,

  Hi baby! When you were little and would ask, I liked to tell you that your first word was MENARETRASH and you’d roll your eyes and say, Mama that’s three words not one, because you’re a cute little smart ass. You’re a cute little smart ass because I raised you like that. And not to brag, but I did a really good job. Agreed? I’m saying this because back when I swore off men, I kept hearing your baby voice saying MENARETRASH.

  Also, it’s too quiet here without you.

  I know how much you hate talking on the phone, so I email you when I want to talk. I still want to hear your voice at least every other week. FaceTiming your mom a couple times a month isn’t too much to ask! I’ll kick the guilt into overdrive if necessary. You know I will! Also, forgive me when my emails are overly sentimental, which will be every time. It’s what mamas do. I miss you! Can’t believe you’re in college already. Tell me all about forensics please! I want to know everything!

  The art show is next week and I’m almost ready. By almost ready I mean I still have a ton of earrings and necklaces to make, but your Auntie Kim helps and she’s such good company. She sends her love, always. She can’t believe you’re so grown up either! I don’t know how I would’ve made it without her throwing her arms around me like a sister back when I was pregnant with you. Women can be so good about taking care of each other, it makes me want to cry every day!

  So, tell me how you and Alayna are! How long has it been since I’ve told you how much I love that you don’t have to deal with men? You’re my perfect daughter. I can’t wait until you two come home next month for fall break and we can make lasagna and watch Mamma Mia! The girl in the movie could’ve been you looking for her daddy like that! You know I’m kidding, but it’s funny because it’s true!

  I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I’ve loved you hard and crazy since the moment I peed on that stick. I peed on four sticks to make extra sure! Write soon please. Don’t break your mama’s heart.

  Lovelove you,

  Your Mama

  * * *

  To: Faye Taylor

  From: Birdie Taylor-Boone

  Date: September 13, 2020, 11:45 p.m.

  Subject: Re: MENARETRASH

  Hi Mama,

  I don’t take real forensic courses until sophomore year. This year is mostly chem and bio. Junior year I get to take forensic chem and lab. The actual fun stuff. I’ll keep you posted, but you have to admit how your eyes glaze over once I start talking science. Remember when you literally fell asleep on me that time I was talking about fluorescent powders??? I just started laughing so hard I had to stop typing for a second. My roommate is going to think I’m nuts more than she already does! LOL.

  Of course I will FaceTime you soon. I’m okay with talking on the phone sometimes and I love texting…so text me too! But, I do think it’s sweet we can write to each other like this. I miss you!

  You know how chill and happy Alayna and I are together. We want to get married after we graduate. I’m thinking of taking her name. How’s Birdie Valentino sound? But yeah, we have plenty of time to talk about that. We’re not rushing anything. And I’m glad you’re not worried about us being too serious too fast anymore. Our relationship is the same level of comfy and sweet it’s always been. I’m lucky! Please don’t hate on high school sweethearts just because of Jack Boone.

  Wow, Jack Boone. Feels kind of crazy writing his name in an email…but whenever I think about him now, I let myself…without trying to stop it. And something else. Over the summer…Uncle Coot told me that the man who killed Jack died in prison. I didn’t say anything to you about it back then because I knew you might not feel like discussing it. Is it okay to talk about? Do you want to talk about it?

  And as much as I know you’d LOVE to take credit for my lesbianism, I’m sorry (not sorry) to say again that it wasn’t the MENARETRASH thing that did it. I know you’re half-kidding when you say it, but I’m a lesbian because I am. It’s not a reaction to your life or to men. Shocker: it has nothing to do with men at all and everything to do with women and me. Who I am.

  I hope the art show is perfect. Tell Auntie Kim I said hi! Send me pictures and let me know how it goes! I’m wearing a pair of your earrings tonight—the big, gold leaves to celebrate autumn coming soon.

  You do have me beat, but just so you know, I have plenty of sentimental moments too. I heard “Super Trouper” the other day and cried in the coffee shop, because I was so homesick for Kentucky and missed you. You’re such a good mama and I’m so glad you’re mine.

  Lovelove you,

  Bird

  PS: Alayna loves your lasagna!

  * * *

  To: Birdie Taylor-Boone

  From: Faye Taylor

  Date: September 14, 2020, 8:03 a.m.

  Subject: Re: MENARETRASH

  Birdie Louise Valentino is so beautiful and I’m already thinking of what color dress I will wear! (Birdie Louise Taylor-Valentino is pretty too, since you knew I’d throw that in!) And I do like to think that I at least had some sort of influence on your life with the new word I invented: MENARETRASH, but yes, of course, I know you are who you are. I’ve always known! That’s why you never had to come out to me. You’ve always been and always will be my free little Birdie.

  I bring it up sometimes, but I do regret giving you your daddy’s last name. I should’ve named you Birdie Louise Taylor. I only went with Taylor-Boone to honor him since Jack died when I was pregnant and your grandmother wanted me to. She’d been so nice to me and had just lost Jack, and I felt bad for her. She’s a sweet woman. She told me she sent you a care package! Was it full of candy and books? I bet she sent you more candy than I did. She’s never been shy about spoiling you rotten. Mama’s coming down for the art show…she’s sending you something soon too. :)

  And yeah…well, I’m glad your Uncle Coot told you that somebody killed Johnny Step in prison. Finding out about that brought up a lot of bad memories, but…I don’t mind talking about it now. Men who live like that die like that. That’s in the Bible.

  Bird, I’ll never regret your daddy because part of him gave me YOU, my light! Once I laid eyes on you, I knew you were Jack’s because you were a Boone baby through and through. Undeniable. If you want to talk about Jack Boone we can talk about Jack Boone. I’ve always been honest with you about everything. I was ashamed to tell you those things, but I told you anyway. Even when it hurt. And I let him hurt me…a lot…back then when I was living in the dark. No more! No more. ♥

  But girl, if I had a time machine I’d tell myself this: Faye, you don’t need him! Just light his shit on fire before you leave!

  Lovelove,

  Mama

  * * *

  To: Faye Taylor

  From: Birdie Taylor-Boone

  Date: September 14, 2020, 11:27 a.m.

  Subject: Re: MENARETRASH

  Mama, you’re my light, too! Aaand my corny cheeseball. ;)

  I don’t mind talking/hearing about Jack Boone either. And I love that you’ve always let me call him Jack Boone because it felt weird for me to call him Dad or Daddy or Rowdy, when I never even met him. And from what I’ve heard from everyone except Grandma, he didn’t sound like somebody worth meeting. Uncle Coot told me once that Jack was really good at poker. And so am I. Of all the things to get passed down, that’s not such a bad one. Grandma always talks about how I have Jack’s eyes. You’ve told me that my whole life. Every time we go back to town, a different person tells me that.

  Yep, Grandma Boone’s care package was full of candy, books, and cookies. She sent me that North Carolina bird encyclopedia I’d been talking about wit
h a little note that said birds for Birdie and some wool socks too. Pretty much all of my socks are from Grandma Boone!

  Lovelove,

  Bird

  * * *

  To: Birdie Taylor-Boone

  From: Faye Taylor

  Date: September 14, 2020, 1:52 p.m.

  Subject: Re: MENARETRASH

  Let me tell you…when I packed up and left that town I kept thinking of “This Woman’s Work” by Kate Bush. Listen to it. I kept thinking about how what I was doing was “This Woman’s Work.” All of it. I’m sorry you never got to meet your daddy; I’m sorry he never even knew I was pregnant. My Woman’s Work was when I got myself all ready to tell him when he came home, but he never got there because the cops picked him up. And when he got out of jail that time, he was so mad at me and hating the world, I didn’t feel safe around him anymore. I didn’t want him near me when he was like that. I told you how he came home and broke every plate in the kitchen and about tore the door off the hinges. Screamed at me to quit crying, but I couldn’t stop. One of those guys in jail told him all kinds of nasty things about me, but I wasn’t going to let Jack hurt me for it. I don’t know why it took me so long to draw that line, but I’m glad I drew it. Classic Jack to go missing for a week then pop up again and get into it with those monsters. Classic Jack, ending up on the wrong side of a gun like some dark-holler country song.