Gap Life

by John Coy

  With everything that had happened, I felt ready to explode. Rayne was right. Nora was a manipulating liar. I was about to yell at her, but Jett put his arm on my shoulder and pointed upstairs, where his folks and sisters were.

  “What about you, Nora?” I asked. “How do you treat people?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that.” I was so angry I felt like shoving Jett into her, but I resisted.

  “Look in the mirror before you say anything about Rayne.”

  “I know you’re not going to college like the rest of us,” she said. “But you don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

  “Shut up!” I turned and stormed out. I wasn’t taking that shit from her. I was furious at Jett, too. He’d promised not to tell anybody about me not going.

  Outside, I kicked a stop sign and listened to it rattle. I couldn’t go home. I’d told Mom and Lansing I wouldn’t be there, and to show up now would feel like a defeat. Dad would look at it that way, and I wasn’t giving him that.

  * * *

  I WALKED DOWN TO THE UNIVERSITY, past the fountain where Rayne and I’d hung out. I’d had lunch and dinner with her, but now her boyfriend was coming and I was thoroughly confused. I wished I could go to Oakcrest and tell her what had happened with Nora, but that wasn’t an option.

  Out of desperation, I checked a door of the social sciences building, but it was locked. The next one was, too. But then I found one in back that opened and decided it wasn’t breaking in if a university door was unlocked. I opened it quietly and looked down the hall. Nobody in sight. I took a few steps pressed against the wall to make sure it was clear and tiptoed softly down the hallway, checking classroom doors: locked, locked, locked. I heard a noise and jumped, but it was only a fan kicking on.

  After a dozen doors, I found one that opened. I stepped into a lecture hall with tiered seating. Down in front was a carpeted area with a podium. That was where teachers lectured to university students, the type of student I wouldn’t be. At that moment, I wished I was going to college instead of sneaking around one. My life would be a whole lot easier, and on top of that, I’d have a car.

  I waited for a security guard to enter and escort me out, but nobody did. Finally, I took a couple of T-shirts out of my pack and set them on the floor as a pillow. I stretched out on the carpet, which was hard and smelled dirty, and tried not to think about it. I rolled around, experimenting with different positions, desperate to find something that was bearable.

  I’d told people I was taking a gap year, but I wasn’t going to college a year from the fall. Nobody was paying my way as a star athlete like Jett. I wasn’t super smart like Rayne. My gap year could become two years and then three and then four. I didn’t see a way I could earn enough money to pay for college on my own. My gap year could turn into my gap life.

  FLEXIBILITY

  WHEN I WOKE UP, the red numbers of the clock flashed 6:01. I sat up and rolled my head. My neck, shoulders, and back all hurt from the hard floor.

  I shoved my shirts into my pack. Nobody would use this room so early, but I didn’t want a security guard catching me and asking questions.

  Outside, I wanted to phone Rayne, but it was too early, so I considered calling Jett to tell him how pissed I was. He’d betrayed me by telling Nora I wasn’t going to college in the fall when he’d promised not to. We’d had arguments before, but nothing like this.

  At the Edge, I drank a large coffee at the table by the window, Rayne’s table. Maybe because I kept obsessing about her, I wished I had a notebook and a pen to write down some things. So much had changed so quickly that I didn’t know what to think.

  I checked the time and debated how early was too early to call. They had wheat-free muffins, so I bought two and set them on a plate in the middle of the table. I waited all the way until quarter to seven before finally giving in.

  “Rayne, are you up?”

  “Yeah, barely.”

  “I’m at the Edge and I’ve got something for you. Can you meet me here?”

  “I’m getting in the shower. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  That’s what I needed. No hesitation. I got myself more coffee, ate a gooey cinnamon roll, and pictured Rayne in the shower. Then I started to worry that I’d made it sound too dramatic. A muffin wasn’t much, even if it was wheat-free.

  * * *

  SHE APPEARED LOOKING SHARP IN BLACK CAPRIS AND a flowing leopard-print top. Her hair was still damp from the shower and her face glowed.

  “For you.” I pointed to the muffin on the plate.

  “What kind?”

  “Cranberry-maple-pecan, wheat-free.”

  “My favorite. You’re having one, too?”

  “Yeah.” I took a bite. It wasn’t as good as the cinnamon roll, but I didn’t need to mention that. Instead, I told her about the argument at Jett’s house. I left out the part about Nora saying Rayne was rough on guys, but I made it clear I’d stood up for her.

  Rayne leaned forward and touched my hand. “I don’t want to have anything to do with her. She’s toxic, and if Jett wants to be with her, I’m not seeing him, either.”

  “I know.” I thought she’d be angry, but instead she was calm. I knew she expected me to choose, too. I was done with Nora, but I couldn’t give up on Jett.

  I picked out a pecan from my muffin and told Rayne about sleeping on the floor of the classroom.

  “You’re flexible, Cray. That’s one of the things I like about you.”

  One of the things. That meant there were others.

  We talked about dinner at her house and her dad and Aaron and then the conversation shifted to Marco.

  “It will be so much fun to have him here,” she said. “I know you’ll like him.”

  That was one prediction that wasn’t coming true.

  We walked toward the art building as she kept talking about Marco. The morning sun climbed out from behind clouds and dew glistened on the grass. Neither of us had plans for lunch so we agreed to meet by the fountain at noon. I kept close to her and breathed in the citrusy smell of her shampoo.

  Marco was coming, and I didn’t know what to expect, but I felt energized, more alive. At the fountain, we hugged, and I held her tightly.

  * * *

  I MADE SURE IT WAS AFTER NINE BEFORE GOING home. Mom and Dad would be at work and Lansing would be at the country club carrying golf bags for guys who were too lazy to do it themselves. I checked around to make sure everybody was gone and wished I had someplace else to go.

  As I entered, for some reason, I thought about the story about the prodigal son, the one who returns home after being gone for a long time. Nobody was going to welcome me. Nobody was going to shower gifts upon me or throw a party. That story had always seemed so unfair. The son who stays and does what he’s supposed to doesn’t get anything. But the one who goes away and blows his inheritance gets all the attention when he returns.

  In our family, Lansing was the good son. I was the one who went away, though it was only for a couple of days. In some ways, though, I’d been going away for a long time. I wouldn’t be the doctor they wanted me to be. I was reminded of the Sesame Street game from when I was little, “One of These Things Is Not Like the Others,” the one with four boxes where one thing is not the same. That was me. I was so different from the three of them that I felt like I’d been born into the wrong family.

  I charged my phone and set the alarm so I’d have time to shower and get ready before lunch. It felt weird to be home by myself as I climbed into bed, but after the hard floor of the classroom, sleep came easy.

  * * *

  I WOKE UP TO MY PHONE RINGING. “Hello.”

  “Hi, it’s Stephanie. Do you have a minute, Cray?”

  “Yeah.” I sat up in bed and worried that she had had another complaint.

  “All your paperwork and references checked out, including rave reviews from Mr. Martinez and Mr. Reinertsen. You’re officially hired by CSS.”

&n
bsp; “Great.”

  “I’ve also got morning shifts to fill tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday since Darla called in with a family emergency. Rayne suggested you. Are you interested?”

  “Sure.” I hadn’t worked by myself and she was offering me morning shifts. “Someone would have to explain what I’d need to do, though.”

  “Rayne can do that when you orientate tonight, and I’ll come by in the morning to give meds.”

  “Okay.” Stephanie wasn’t holding anything against me after our talk. She was giving me the second chance she’d promised.

  “Thanks, Cray. I appreciate your flexibility.”

  She was the second person that morning to call me flexible. I’d never thought of myself that way, but maybe I was. I got out of bed and realized I’d done something Dad had asked. He said I needed a job other than “sleeping over.” Stephanie had just offered me one. It was only a few small shifts, but it was something to tell him. There were probably more where that came from. I might not have to search for a whole new job.

  I went down to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. As I ate, I thought about what would be okay to take for lunch with Rayne. I searched through the cupboards checking for nonwheat items. All the cookies and crackers contained wheat, including graham crackers, which I’d thought might be okay. Oatmeal-cinnamon granola bars were fine and so was the fruit in the glass bowl on the kitchen island. I picked out two tangerines and a couple of bananas. Rayne would like those. I remembered her eating the walnut on the banana in that sexy way, so I found a bag of nuts in the cupboard. They were pistachios rather than walnuts, but they were wheat-free, so I poured a bunch into a Ziploc bag.

  I packed everything and went to shower. I was excited to see Rayne and show her what I had for lunch, our last one together before Marco arrived.

  LAYING DOWN THE LAW

  “IT’S A FEAST.” Rayne checked out the items as we placed them on the concrete wall around the fountain.

  “Yeah, we chose things that go together and we didn’t even coordinate it.”

  Rayne smiled. “We coordinated. We just didn’t talk about it.”

  I took a bite of an avocado-and-cheese sandwich. “Where did you get this bread?”

  “The co-op has a wheat-free focaccia. Do you like it?”

  “Yeah, it’s good.”

  “Try some of these. They’re from the garden and have a nice kick.” She passed me a container of green beans with hot pepper flakes on them.

  I bit into one cautiously but it was tasty. I shelled a pistachio and handed it to her. “How was work this morning?”

  “Excellent. I was cataloging images of Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Do you know him?”

  “No.”

  “He was a Scottish architect and designer, and I keep thinking of this one chair he made. The back is like a ladder going to the sky and the seat is rose-colored, a spectacular piece of furniture.” Rayne moved her hands around as she discussed the design.

  I didn’t know anyone who could get so excited about a chair, which was one more thing I liked about her.

  “He worked with his wife, the artist Margaret Macdonald. They did some gorgeous watercolors and stained glass together.” Rayne shelled another pistachio. “These are good.”

  “So are these.” I held up a green bean.

  “Mackintosh designed buildings in Glasgow that I have to see, including the Willow Tea Rooms and the School of Art.”

  “When are you going?” I’d pushed Rayne’s trip to the back of my mind.

  “I fly out August thirty-first and arrive September first. Most of the tourists will be gone, and I’ll get a better sense of Glasgow.”

  August 31 was less than three months away! Being in Clairemont without Rayne would be awful.

  “I’ll spend five days exploring the museums and galleries of Glasgow. Then I’ll take the West Highland Line train up through Garelochhead, Crianlarich, and across Rannoch Moor. I’ll even cross the Glenfinnan Viaduct, the bridge in the Harry Potter films.”

  The words rolled off her tongue easily, and I felt like I was listening to a foreign language.

  “From Mallaig, I’ll catch the ferry and go over the sea to Skye.” Rayne’s excitement was obvious, and I envied her clarity about her plans. She picked up a tangerine and slowly peeled it in one continuous piece.

  “When will you be back?”

  “I want to travel as long as I can, at least a year. I’ll pick up some side jobs and trade work for room and board. Technically it’s illegal to work on a tourist visa, but I know people who’ve done it and been paid in cash. I’m ready for an adventure.”

  I unwrapped a granola bar and listened as Rayne talked confidently about what she planned to see.

  “There’s this bagpiping center in Borreraig that highlights the history of the MacCrimmons, my ancestors. They were the pipers for the MacLeods of Dunvegan Castle, so I’ve got to go to Dunvegan and Borreraig. Aren’t the names brilliant? Don’t you want to go there just based on the names?”

  “Yeah.” And I did. I wanted to go, too.

  “Cray, I’ve got a favor to ask.” She looked at me directly. “I know it’s last minute, but can you work for me tomorrow night? I asked Stephanie and she said it’s fine since it means you’ll start one night earlier than you would have. It’s Marco’s first night here and I have to be with him.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t eager to help them be together, but there was no way to say that without sounding jerkish.

  * * *

  BACK HOME, I checked messages on my phone and waited to see who would show up first. I remembered Dad’s You’ll regret it warning, but so far I hadn’t. I sat in the kitchen drumming my fingers on my phone case.

  Mom was the first to return, and she gave me a hug. “Oh, Cray, it’s so good to see you.” She took a long look and her eyes moistened. “We’re going out for dinner,” she said. “Your pick. Anyplace you want.” She acted like I’d been gone for a year and treated me like I was the returning prodigal son.

  “Anyplace?”

  “Yes, anyplace.”

  I didn’t know how Dad would feel about that.

  “Let’s go into the living room and sit down.” Mom led the way and I followed. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  And she actually wanted to know. I told her about Rayne and Stephanie and Oakcrest and my orientation. She listened and nodded and didn’t bring up college and how disappointed she was. She didn’t even warn me about Dad or tell me how angry he’d be.

  “I’m glad you’re home.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, and I believed her.

  Lansing came back later from the country club and sat down and asked questions about where I’d been and what I’d been doing. I told him about Oakcrest and he was interested, too.

  “We’re going out to dinner to celebrate,” Mom said.

  “Celebrate what?” Lansing asked.

  “Celebrate all of us being together,” Mom said.

  “Where are we going?” Lansing looked to me.

  “How about Los Corrales?” I suggested our favorite.

  “Awesome.” He got up. “I’m going to shower.”

  Things were going way better than I expected, but I still had Dad to deal with. I wished Mom would have called to tell him I was home, that everything was fine, and that we were going out to dinner. The fewer surprises with him, the better. I checked messages on my phone again while she poured juice spritzers in the kitchen.

  “Here’s your father,” she announced when his car drove up.

  I stood up. Then I sat back down. Mom handed me a cranberry spritzer and I took a long drink. I was seventeen years old. I’d graduated from high school and had a job. But I was still afraid of him.

  His BMW door slammed and I mouthed a piece of ice and crushed it while Mom made him a gin and tonic.

  “Who left the garage door open so leaves blew in?” he asked.

  For once it wasn’t me.

  “I did
just now.” Mom cut the lime into thin slices the way Dad liked. “It was only ten minutes till you got home.”

  “Well, close it. There’s no reason to leave it open.”

  I sat there on the couch waiting for him to notice me after he finished listing all the problems that leaves in the garage could cause.

  “Cray’s here.” Mom presented Dad his drink.

  “I can see that.” Dad took a sip.

  “Hi.” I shifted on the couch.

  “Ehh.” He grunted.

  “I haven’t planned anything for dinner,” she said, “so we decided to go to Los Corrales.”

  “It’s too damn noisy there.” Dad wiped his mouth.

  “We can go someplace else.” Mom sat down and encouraged him to as well.

  I hated how she always backed down from him. We’d decided where we were going and I wanted her to stick with it.

  “Let’s go to Manfred’s?” He eased into his chair.

  “They’ll have a line.” She knew how much Dad hated to wait. “Los Corrales won’t.”

  My foot tapped an extra-fast beat.

  “It’s noisy,” Dad complained.

  “We can sit in back,” Mom said. “It’s quieter there.”

  “We’ve got to be over at Ed’s by eight for birthday cake.” Dad swirled his drink and gazed into it.

  “We’ll have plenty of time,” she said.

  Dad scratched his chin. The bags under his eyes seemed darker. Maybe he hadn’t slept well last night, either. “Let’s get one thing straight. When you live in this house, you follow certain rules. If you can’t, you’ll need to find someplace else.”

  I set my glass down and prepared for his standard lecture.

  “Number one,” he said, “you’ll pay monthly rent like we discussed. Number two, you’ll do the things we do as a family, like go to church every Sunday, and I mean every Sunday. Number three, you won’t disappear for days on end without letting us know in advance. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes.” There was no negotiating with him. He was laying down the law, and I had to follow it as long as I was in his house. But there were no extra consequences for You’ll regret it.